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clangenrising · 2 months

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Month 13 - Newleaf

The week had been busy for Ghost. Sardine had tasked him with selecting a group of Chaff to begin battle training and he had been busy trying to figure out who among his cats was cut out for that kind of thing. All the while, he was torn between the care he had for his cats and the care he had for Smokyrose. His head was all tangled up, unable to figure out how to look out for both sides at once, wondering when he was going to have to cut his losses.

He’d decided to help Gingersnap. Hopefully, he thought, she was being honest and she would be able to at least take care of Smokyrose and the kits. Two girls, he’d been told. He wasn’t sure how to feel about them, but he felt he ought to feel something. So he was trying. And that meant helping Gingersnap.

He’d spent the last two days planning out a route from her house to the northern front, arranging schedules so that there would be a gap in patrols, finding secluded paths to avoid more populated areas, and finding a place to sufficiently disguise their scents. Getting her out of the city was going to be an extremely risky endeavor. If Razor found out about his involvement or somehow caught them in the act, he would be furious and Ghost would definitely receive the worst of his wrath. Despite his responsibilities and the privileges those responsibilities afforded him, he was still Chaff, something most cats seemed to forget.

Still, he was confident he’d managed to plan a sufficient route and he’d sent Jagg with the news the night before. He was also confident that no one else knew, but you could never be sure on the streets. As he made his way to Gingersnap’s garden, he checked over his shoulder again. There was no one, just like every other time, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He shook his fur out and kept going. The night was cold and only getting colder. His breath clouded visibly around his face with every huff and puff he made. She’d better appreciate the effort I’m putting in, he thought bitterly, wishing he were back in his nest where it was warm. He stopped on the sidewalk, gave one last look over his shoulder, then turned and slank down the side of her house towards her back garden.

Razor was waiting for him. “Evening, Ghost. What are you doing here?”

Ghost froze. In addition to Razor, Tiger and Milo were lounging in the shadow of the trash bins, watching him intently. He swallowed and considered backing up. That was probably a bad idea.

“Just coming to check on the night guard,” he lied.

“Huh,” Razor frowned a little and looked over to his companions. “We were in the area and decided to do the same but - it’s weird - there’s no guard tonight. Who’s supposed to be here?”

Ghost blanked on a name. Whoever he said would probably be in trouble. Who was he willing to throw under the bus?

“He’s being real quiet,” Milo jeered, rolling onto his paws to start circling around behind Ghost. That wasn’t good.

“I agree,” Razor said, feigning genuine disappointment. “Ghost, don’t tell me there wasn’t one.” His eyes fixed intently on Ghost, pupils shrunken to cold, dangerous slits.

Ghost swallowed. “Of course there was. It was supposed to be-”

“Cut the crap,” Tiger rolled his eyes and stood. “We know why you’re here.”

“What do you mean?” Ghost shifted to try and have all three of them in view at once but Milo was making that difficult.

“Really,” Razor glared, his polite facade dropping, “after all these years, after everything I’ve done for you, I can’t believe you would betray me like this.” He started circling as well. Ghost’s heart was hammering in his chest. “I mean, trying to sleep with my girl, that’s- that’s low, Ghost, even for you.”

“What?!” Ghost’s ears flipped back against his skull. “I’m not-”

“Don’t lie to me!” Razor hissed, arching up on his toes. “I know you tried to get Gingersnap alone tonight! I saw you flirting!”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Ghost protested. How had Razor known? Had someone told him? Milo was edging closer, tightening the circle. Razor scoffed.

“Please,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Then what is it, Ghost? I’d love to know.”

Ghost hesitated again. What other explanation was there? He definitely couldn’t tell the truth! His thoughts were choked by fear, going blank with white hot adrenaline.

“That’s what I thought,” Razor snarled. He raised a paw and, next thing Ghost knew, he was on the ground, bleeding from his left temple. His ears rang with the force of the blow and his vision spun nauseatingly. He was too old for this shit. As he pulled his focus back to earth, pulling his legs and tail beneath his body, he registered the shapes of the three Exalted cats closing in around him.

“I promise,” he tried again, “I would never.”

“But you can’t seem to come up with another excuse,” Razor said. He crouched down to get on Ghost’s eye level and swiped a paw in front of his face to draw his attention.

“Hey,” he said as if trying to be helpful, “Focus. Ghost, look at me.” Ghost tried, squinting hard until the sliding planes of his vision managed to click into place with each other. Razor smiled. “There he is. Listen. I get it. A guy has urges. And Gingersnap is a fine fuckin’ woman. I know I’d be jealous if she weren’t mine.”

I know, thought Ghost, remembering how Razor had practically stolen her in the first place. From the moment Razor had set eyes on her, Ghost knew she was gone. There wasn’t much you could do once Razor decided you had something he wanted except give it to him.

“Honestly, the thing that hurts me most is that you lied to me,” Razor frowned.

“I didn’t…” Ghost said woozily. “Razor, I promise, I wasn’t trying to steal your girl.”

“Then what were you doing?” Razor said gently.

“I was…” Ghost swallowed. “I was coming to turn her down. She was the one hitting on me, not the other way around.”

“Right. You came to turn her down in the middle of the night and you made sure that you would be all alone to do it.” Razor’s expression darkened. “I’m not stupid, Ghost. And you’re a bad liar.” His eyes darted sideways then he jerked his head in Ghost’s direction. Ghost cried out as teeth sank into his shoulder with force and he twisted to try and get away. Standing, Razor hit him with two more quick lashes to the face and he fell still. Milo pulled back, licking his bloodstained lips, and smiled.

“This doesn’t have to get ugly,” Razor sighed as if it were out of his hands. “It will be a lot easier for you if you just tell the truth.” Ghost looked up at the faces of his tormentors. There was no way he could fight them all off, especially not Razor. There was a chance he could make a break for it but that would probably mean the end of his time in the city. Cats who escaped a punishment always got twice what they were originally owed in the end. If there was any chance he would be able to remain the Head of the Chaff, he was going to have to play Razor’s game.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, sides heaving. “I’m sorry, Razor, I- I don’t know what I was thinking. Please, forgive me.”

Razor smiled. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Ghost sighed in relief. Unfortunately, Razor continued, “But you know what I have to do.”

Ghost grimaced and shut his eyes. Word was going to spread. Razor had to make it clear that Ghost had been punished for his transgression. Taking a shaky breath, Ghost nodded.

“Alright, boys,” Razor said coldly. “Let him have it.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Ghost #Scorchplume #Razor #Tiger #Milo #Newleaf #swear warning #Clangenrising

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masonmtxo · 1 year

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Theo

Mason Mount x OC

Summary: You and Mason find out the gender of your second baby and break the news to your daughter she’s about to become a big sister.

Words: 3.7k

Notes: any feedback is always appreciated ❤️

“Mrs Mount?” The sound of your name promoted you to glance up from Mason’s phone, spotting a midwife peaking around the door labelled ‘Ultrasound’ across from you. You’d been waiting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs for a while, Masons arm resting on the back of your seat as he waited alongside you, the pair of you aimlessly scrolling through a baby name page on his phone.

Your new additions name was a topic you had been bickering about for weeks, ever since you’d been booked in for your 18 week scan and had realized you would be able to find out the gender of your second child. You had briefly debated leaving it a surprise, until you witnessed the instant disappointment flood over Mason’s face upon your suggestion. He was over the moon when you had ran downstairs one afternoon as he had stepped through the front door after a morning of training, waving a pregnancy test in his face. It was Mason who had been the first one the breach the topic of names, suggesting a few early on, a mix of boys or girls names, some gender neutral, most of them causing you to scrunch up your face appalled.

“If they’re a girl, how do you feel about the name Skye?” He had thrown at you one morning while lying in bed, waiting for the inevitable sound of your daughters feet pitter-pattering down the hallway to your room.

“We aren’t naming our child after Marley’s favourite Paw Patrol character, for fuck sake Mason,” you had groaned in response, rolling over with your back to him.

You knew the suggestion was to ease some of the nerves he had about telling your daughter she was going to have a sibling, he had mentioned telling her on a number of occasions as your belly became more noticeable, but neither of you had found a moment that had felt right. You’d hit a bit of a dead end, neither of you willing to drop the bombshell to Marley or agreeing with any of the names suggested. Having gotten nowhere, the situation only causing more frustration, you’d decided to leave the topic alone until you knew the gender. That was until you’d caught Mason scrolling through names on his phone as you waited in seating area of the hospital for your second scan, eventually leaning over his shoulder and joining him, knowing he was doing it as a distraction for the anxiety in his chest.

You both stood to your feet as you name was called, Mason slipping his phone into his pocket and grabbing your hand in his. You gave his a reassuring smile as you felt his clammy palm, that he returned before walking towards the midwife who was waiting for you at the door.

You hopped onto the bed as soon as you entered, making small talk with the midwife and sonographer, who was fiddling around with the machine beside you. Mason took a seat on the chair in the corner of the dimly lit room, nervously rubbing his hands against his jogger clad legs.

“How’s pregnancy been treating you? Anything you’re concerned about?” The doctor smiled as she pulled on a pair of gloves, gesturing for you to pull your jumper up to reveal your bump.

You shuffled around, doing as asked, “good actually, much better than the first to be honest, the morning sickness only lasted a week or so.”

“Great news! Let get the gel on you and have a look shall we?” She smiled, “it may be a little cold at first.”

She waited for your conformation before squeezing some gel onto your bump, lightly smoothing it over with the glove. You felt a hand wrap around your ankle, glancing up to see Mason leaning forward, one elbow resting on his knee as he chewed away at his already short nails, the other hand gripping around your foot in anticipation.

“Dad’s nervous huh?” The midwife smiled over to him, noticing the way he was perched on the edge of the chair.

His eyes flickered away from you to look in the direction of the voice, as if he had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the room.

Cheeks flushing, as he shot both the women a bashful smile, “A bit, mostly excited though.”

“He’s desperate to know the gender,” you explain, holding eye contact with you husband, both your expressions clouded with affection.

“Well, lets have a look and see if the little one is in a good position for us to see,” she reached for the probe and gently ran it over you bump, both you and Mason craning your heads to see the screen as a fuzzy black and white picture appeared.

You felt your eyes well up as the little shape came into focus, your tiny little baby, a product of so much love, growing safe and sound in your belly. The room was quiet for a few minutes, only the sounds of the sonographer mumbling to herself occasionally as she checked all the angles she could. The longer she stayed quiet, the harder Mason gripped your foot finally releasing his hold when she let out a happy sigh, turning to you both, “everything is looking perfect!”

Tearing your eyes from the screen you turned to Mason, who was already grinning in your direction.

“The gender is also identifiable today, are you both happy to find out?”

“Please,” the words shot out Mason’s mouth, before he sheepishly turned his gaze to you to confirm you were also happy to know.

You smiled and nodded, beyond ready to finally make the pregnancy feel all that more exciting and real. You’d finally be able to tell Marley whether she was having a baby sister or brother and you would finally be able to narrow down a list of potential names, up until now just referring to your bump as baby Mount.

“Well Mr and Mrs Mount, it looks like you’ll be having a beautiful little boy.”

Mason instantly stood from his chair, the grin on his face unbelievably big as he threw himself to the side of the bed and crouched so he was level with you, pressing multiple kisses against you forehead as you felt tears spilling out your eyes in happiness.

“We’re having a boy!” He gasped, both hands now cupping your cheeks as he looked at you in awe.

“A little mini Mason,” you laughed, both of you radiating happiness as your stared into each others eyes. He carefully tilted your chin upwards, pressing a loving kiss to your lips before turning back to the two women in the room who were watching your interaction fondly when one of them spoke.

“Happy?”

“Extremely,” he grinned, staying beside you, not bothering to return to his seat.

“And mum?”

“Beyond happy,” you giggled at your hormonal dramatics as Mason reached over to wipe your tears away with the soft sleeves of his hoodie.

“Good! So everything is looking perfect for this stage of your pregnancy, nothing is indicating any cause for concern, but please contact us straight away if you have any issues or concerns. Sarah here, your midwife for the rest of your pregnancy, will be able to help you with any questions you may have,” she handed you a number of sheets of paper, pointing to where she had circled the contact details for the maternity unit, including the Midwifes number, who you noticed had slipped out the room to collect your scan photos.

When she returned, she handed Mason another folder of information, including the photographs taken from today. They helped you sit up, Sarah wiping the gel off your belly with a wash cloth as the Sonographer sent you both a good luck, slipping out the room to get ready for her next appointment. You chatted back and forth, telling her about Marley and how you were yet to tell her you were pregnant, lucky that she was small enough that your growing belly hadn’t arose any curious questions just yet.

“Is she a daddy’s girl?” Sarah asked, noticing Mason had gone unusually quiet as you sorted yourself out. He was sitting back in the chair, carefully thumbing the edge of what you presumed was the sonogram.

“Huh?” He looked up quickly, realizing he had been spoken too.

“Shes completely enamoured by him, mummy is always second best to daddy,” you joked, trying to divert the attention away from him, noticing he looked embarrassed that he had been caught out wrapped up in his emotions once again.

“Well you can have a mummy’s boy now as well,” Sarah teased, as you stood to your feet and waited at the door for Mason, who was slowing putting the photo away and following suit.

“I bloody wish but I’m sure Mase will he his favourite too,” you laughed, “Thank you for today,” you took Mason’s free hand in yours as he took the papers that you’d been holding and adding them to the folder to keep them safe.

“Good luck, any problems you know where we are.”

•••

“You’ve been quiet,” you spoke softly, not wanting to disturb his thoughts too much as he climbed into the drivers side of the car having just helped you into your seat.

“I didn’t mean to be. I just didn’t think I could stop myself from crying if I spoke too much,” he whispered, finally turning to face you, tears pooling in his eyes now he was in the safety of his car.

“Why are you crying baby?” You cupped his face, letting your thumb gently trace over his soft cheek, his beard scratching lightly at your palm.

He shook his head, as if confused by his own reaction, “Im just so unbelievably happy, I don’t even know…” he trailed off.

You smiled at him, understanding exactly how he was feeling, your heart equally as full. “You’re the best Daddy in the world and this little bean and Marley are so, so lucky to have you,” you pressed a kiss to his nose, “and so am I.”

“I’m the lucky one, thank you for loving me like you do and giving me two beautiful children,” he whispered, tilting your chin so your lips could meet. You kissed slowly, eventually pulling apart, resting your foreheads together and taking some deep breaths, both of you still slightly dazed knowing your baby son was healthy and perfect.

“On that note, shall we go home and let Marls know shes having a baby brother?”

•••

You could hear the excitable screaming coming from inside before you had even opened the front door, the pair of you turning to each other and taking breath before walking into the chaos. You had asked Nathan to look after Marley while you had popped out for the appointment, as much as you both loved him, he wasn’t always your first choice of babysitter, often resorting to sugary snacks to keep your daughter busy. But what you hadn’t anticipated was walking into the lounge to find Nathan sitting on the floor wearing one of your summer dresses over his tracksuit and a far too small hot pink wig perched on his head, one you recognised from Marley’s dress up box, as she squealed excitedly, running laps around him dressed up as Elsa.

“Erm, Nathan mate, what’s going on?” Mason tried to stifle his laughter, a snort escaping his nose as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Daddy! Mummy!” Marley squealed as she heard her dad’s voice and spotted you both, running and wrapping her tiny arms around Mason’s legs, nestling her head into his thigh.

“Hi baby,” he reached down and stroked the knotted blonde wig upon her head. Placing the hospital paperwork down on the arm of the sofa, he bent down, hoisting Marley into his arms. You leaned over, peaking her forehead before walking over to Nathan who was still seated on the floor, pulling the wig from his head and affectionately fluffing his curls as they were revealed.

“Can I ask why you’re wearing my dress?” You smirked down at him.

He laughed, climbing to his feet and giving you a twirl, “you’ve got to admit I look good.”

“If you say so,” you winked, the two of you drifting over to the kitchen area after he had pulled the dress off over his head, watching as Mason sat on the sofa, Marley curled on his lap excitedly telling him all the fun things she had got up to with her uncle while you had been gone.

“So?” Nathan whispered, glancing over to your daughter quickly to make sure she wasn’t listening.

“A boy,” you leant into his ear, eyes scanning over his face as you watched it light up in happiness.

“YES!” He cheered, eyes widening as he saw Marley turn toward you both, little eyebrows furrowed. Mason watched his best friend, smirk on his face knowing exactly what his outburst was about.

You giggled, squeezing over his hand resting on the counter, “knew you’d be buzzing. You were the one hoping Marley was a boy.”

“Finally a kid I can play footie with,” Nathan teased, “there’s only so many times I can pretend I enjoy being dressed up as a princess.”

“Try being her dad, Mase has to do it on a near daily basis,” you watched your husband and daughter, Marley sitting on Masons stomach, hands grabbing at his brown locks, just like she used to as a baby, taking the butterfly clips from her Elsa wig and clipping them into his hair.

“He was made to be a dad though,” Nathan chuckled as he watched his best mate and niece, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a girl dad, as much as I love Marls.”

“To be honest, when the doctor said we were having a boy I was kind of relieved. Boys are meant to be so much easier.”

“How do you think Marley’s gonna take it?” Nathan looked over at you, smiling at the way your face seemed to soften every time you watched Mason interact with his daughter.

You turned to him, gently biting your lip as you scrunched up your nose, “I’m not sure to be honest, I still don’t feel ready but I’m getting bigger by the day and shes gonna realise somethings up soon,” you paused, “She’s extremely bright for a 2 year old.”

“Tell me about it, certainly didn’t get her brains from her dad, that’s all you,” Nathan jokingly nudged his elbow into your arm.

You laughed lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you both admired the way Mason just seemed to know exactly what he was doing, arm easily catching the toddler as she flung herself around, now using him as a climbing frame. You knew you had nothing to be worried about, having a partner that you could rely on to always make a situation less stressful made the thought of having two kids that much easier. If there was anyone who just instinctively knew how to be a parent, it was Mason.

“I better get going, the missus will be home soon,” Nathan broke you from your trance, pressing a kiss on your hair and softly patting your jumper covered bump before making his way over to interrupt the duo.

“See you later mate, thanks for looking after the little lady,” Mason reached out to fist bump his friend.

“Anytime bro. See you later Marley-moo, love you,” he pressed a kiss to Marley’s scrunched nose, leaving her to giggle.

“Bye Uncle ‘oody, love you,” her little lisp made you smile, heart melting at her sweetness. You waved to Nathan as he left, hearing the front door close moments later.

After making a cup of tea for both yourself and Mason, you wandered over to join them on the sofa, placing the mugs on the coffee table. You looked down at the bump that was slightly showing from the way you were lounging back, hand discreetly drifting to brush over it. You had adored being pregnant with Marley, that feeling of closeness to your unborn child indescribable, but you were in love with being pregnant much more than you thought you ever would be this time around. It came with its flaws, the aches and raging hormones a side to pregnancy you could do without, but overall it was an experience you had found overwhelmingly peaceful in a strange way. Your first pregnancy had come with added stresses; would you be a good mum? Would Mason resent you for tying him down so young? How would having a baby work with a man who had such a busy life? But all these questions had already been answered the first time around, having a second baby didn’t come with the same volume of unknowns, the only thing you had to worry about? Telling Marley she was about to have a sibling.

You hadn’t noticed the other two on the sofa go quiet whilst you were lost in your own thoughts, hadn’t spotted the way Marley had tired and was now nestled against her daddy’s chest for a cuddle, Mason watching you intently as your hands carefully ran over your bump. He couldn’t help but smile, a feeling of content flooding his body as the 3 most important things in his life surrounded him. He knew you were secretly hoping for a boy ever since you had found out you were pregnant, though you’d never explicitly said it he could see it in your eyes whenever the topic of the baby’s gender came up. And Mason would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the same, a little boy he could share all the things he had done with his own dad growing up. As much is it pained him, Marley had never shown any interest in football, possibly the only trait of Mason’s she hadn’t picked up, so the possibility of having a child to potentially share his biggest passion with was beyond exciting. But as he watched you admire your stomach, a tiny creation, the perfect mix of you both safely growing inside, he felt a sudden need to share the news with your oldest baby.

“Hey Marls,” he gently stroked her back, feeling her breathing begin to deepen, eyes not moving from your face as he spoke. You turned to look him at him, raising your eyebrows in question, Mason simply nodding his head to which you immediately understood, shuffling close to the pair of them.

“Yes daddy?” Marley lifted her head from his chest, hair messy after Mason had slipped the wig from her head when she had settled down a few minutes prior.

“How would you feel about being a big sister?” You asked, reaching out to run your fingers up and down her arm closest to you as she turned to look at you as you spoke.

“No thank you mummy,” she mumbled, burrowing back into Mason.

You glanced at each other, both attempting to hide your laughter at her nonchalance.

“What if daddy told you there was a baby in mummy’s belly right now?” Mason nudged her carefully, prompting her to lift her head again.

“Really?” Her head tilted to the side, curious, climbing off her dad to go and investigate. She touched your belly cautiously, eyes looking up at you expectantly when nothing happened, “Why did you eat a baby mummy?”

Your eyes widened in shock as Mason snorted, covering his mouth to hide his laughter.

“No Marley, mummy’s growing a baby brother in her belly for you, I didn’t eat him,” you assured her, stroking her baby hairs away from her forehead, ignoring your husband as he attempted to control his laughter.

“How did he get in there?” Marley’s face was a picture of intrigue, a much better response than you had anticipated, though it was clear she still didn’t completely understand.

“Magic!” Mason interrupted, wrapping his arms around Marley from behind, taking her small hand in his and placing it over your bump, “Mummy and Daddy were ready for another baby so we asked nicely if we could have one and ta da!”

“Oh…” she shrugged, copying Mason’s actions and stroking your belly carefully, “okay.”

“Are you happy to be having a baby brother?” Mason asked, nuzzling into the side of her face and pressing kisses to her soft cheek.

“Um,” she sat quietly for a moment, “no,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

“Why not Marls?” Mason asked, glancing up at you, for the first time a hint of worry showing on his face.

“Summer told me boys smell funny.”

You both chuckled, relieved her response was nothing too extreme, only the words of her older cousin causing her any concern.

“Not all boys smell funny, daddy doesn’t,” Mason tilted his head back to face his daughter’s cheek, his nose lightly tracing over her skin the way he used to when she was a baby. She didn’t respond, too focused on touching your bump.

“What’s the baby called?” Marley tilted her head to look at you, shifting to snuggle herself into your side.

“He hasn’t got a name just yet,” you sighed, stroking her small back as Mason wrapped his arms around you both, joining the cuddle.

“Theo,” you hear Mason mutter, “what do you think about Theo? It popped in my head on the way home and I cant shake it.”

You smiled, repeating the name, liking the sound it made on your tongue, “Theo Mount,” looking down at Marley, who was still contently cupping your belly in her tiny hand, “what do you think Marley?”

She giggled, pressing a kiss beside where her hand was placed and nodding, “I like it Mummy.”

“Well then, Mummy, Daddy and your big sister are very excited to meet you baby Theo.”

#mason mount #football fic #footballer imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fluff #dad mason

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fallenclan · 5 months

Note

// death is a pretty big theme in this fic, so yeah.

// part 2 of my first silverbelly fic and i would super appreciate if u could link the first one because i can't for some reason LOLL

"Here," Silverbelly says, holding out a few blue berries on her paw. "There were extra."

"What do I do with them?" Flypaw stares at her, round eyes wide.

"I don't mind," she replies. Then, she walks off to go congratulate Wormshade.

The next day, she wakes up, checks on her kids, and Flypaw has the berries tucked right behind his ear. She has no doubts that Mudpaw was the one who helped him put it there.

She goes about her day as normal. Rearranges her herbs, shares a rabbit with Applebranch and Maplethorn (who is exhausted of constantly third wheeling them), and shows Stormkit the herbs.

She cleared out Sunwish's nest the day after her vigil. Cleared out the scatteredly organized herbs, and tried not to stare at Scorchstar too much.

Scorchstar didn't share tongues with Sunwish before her death, and she didn't bring her body back to camp. It's not like they were close in the way Honeygleam and Dawnshine were, where their scents tended to rub off on eachother. In fact, she's fairly sure that she's only seen Scorchstar and Sunwish speaking a total of seven times in as many moons.

Scorchstar being in her pelt made no sense.

It was a mystery in the same way that Ivyleaf and Otterslip look uncannily alike. Neither of them ever addressed this, but it was obvious they were somehow related to eachother.

She recalls the vision, of the line of blood trailing from one rock to the next. The glinting of amber eyes and blood trapped between claws.

She's digging through the snow, desparate. Damp leaves stick on her paws.

"Where is he?" Wormshade wails.

"We'll find him," Honeygleam says. "He can't have gone far."

Avalanches were one of the dangers lying in wait. With the changing seasons came fluctuating warmth, resulting in the toppling snow and rock that came hurtling down the mountain moments ago.

She stares at where Goldenflare is attempting to comfort a shocked patrol. Curly and Oaktuft look shellshocked, eyes blown wide.

"What's going on?"

"The avalanche- it-" Curly's breath hitches. "We got lucky. We- we're fine. But- stars, Nick."

Wormshade stares at her. "What happened to him?"

"Oh, Wormshade," Curly breathes. "He got trapped. The snow caught him before we could get him out of the way."

Oaktuft and Curly lead the four to a ledge, where there is a pile of snow and one snow covered, gray limb sticking out of the pile. Wormshade stops breathing next to her.

Scarcely a week later, tragedy strikes again. They're still trying to go back to normal, and then Scorchstar doesn't return from her walks.

Goldenflare turns to her. "She's been so distant lately. I don't know where she is or what she might be doing."

"Send a patrol out to find her," Silverbelly says. "I have to meet Lakelily at the border, we're trading some juniper for thyme. I'll keep a look out for her there."

"Thank you," Goldenflare says.

And when she returns, a small group of cats are huddled around a bloodied brown body in the clearing, and Silverbelly knows what's just happened.

"Are you ready?" She asks.

Goldenflare stiffly nods. His tail nervously lashes from the sides.

"You'll do fine," she says.

"I'm not ready," he whispers. "I keep getting cats hurt."

"Is this about Morningbloom?"

He falls silent, and she has her answer.

"I couldn't protect Nettlestem, or Sunwish, or Scorchstar. I couldn't even protect my mate. How am I meant to protect a whole clan's worth of cats?"

"None of those events were your fault," Silverbelly briskly says. "You know exactly how they all died. Nettlestem was ambushed by a rogue on a peaceful walk. Sunwish was murdered. Scorchstar was mauled by dogs. Stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control."

He stares at her. "When did you get so smart?"

"I think parenthood had something to do with it," she snorts. "Dip your muzzle in the water and sleep will come. You'll wake up in Silverpelt."

"How do I know they'll accept me?"

"You won't."

Morningbloom is the first. (Stars, make him a mess for the rest of the ceremony, why don't you?)

"With this life, I give you sympathy," Morningbloom chokes out. Her eyes are round with longing and grief. "Use it to understand, from the strongest warrior to the youngest kit to the oldest elder."

Goldenflare stares at her, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"It's not your fault," she whispers. "It's never been your fault."

Silverbelly feels like she's intruding on such a moment.

She steps back into the crowd, and Goldenflare takes one step after her then stops, staring at the star speckled ground. His eyes clench shut as the next cat walks to him.

Other cats walk up to him. Nettlestem, Wildfang, Nick. Tawnyash and Rum Tum Tugger are a surprising addition. Breezeshadow approaches, her starlit eyes as kind as ever.

Finally, Scorchstar steps forward. "I've had many regrets in my leadership. Making you my deputy was not one of them."

Goldenflare stares at her, murmurs something Silverbelly can't quite make out. Scorchstar nods once, a tiny movement she would have missed if she wasn't looking closely.

"With this life, I give you leadership during the darkest times. Persist, even when tragedy strikes. Never falter, never give up. You have a duty to these cats."

Goldenstar jolts as her muzzle rests on his head.

"Your old life is no more," Scorchstar says. "It's your duty to guard Fallenclan, now. Use your new power wisely."

Morningbloom breaks the careful silence with a yowl. "Goldenstar! Goldenstar!"

The rest of the star speckled cats chime in, and Silverbelly awakes in the glow cave.

"Silverbelly?"

She turns at the noise. Stormkit is staring at her, with his giant copper eyes.

"Yes?" She sets down her pile of poppy seeds on a leaf. "Can I help you?"

"I don't wanna be a warrior. Is that bad?"

She's taken aback by his wavering tone. "No, honey, of course not."

"It's just that-" he stiffly stops in the middle of his sentence. "Hailkit and Goosekit and Moonkit all wannna be warriors but I like plants and fixing scrapes and cuts. I like learning about the cool stuff you do. I don't wanna hurt cats, I want to help them!"

She listens sympathetically. She had her own doubts at his age. All anyone her age talked about were fighting moves or catching cool birds, and she just liked the clovers that grew in the leader's den.

"You could be my apprentice," she says. "I could teach you everything I know about herbs and plants and the stars."

"Really?" Stormkit's eyes grow round.

"Really," she purrs. "You'd be great at it, you're already such a big help."

Privately, there's another reason she goes to Goldenstar and tells him she's chosen Stormkit to be her first apprentice.

Since Stormpaw has become her apprentice, the brief flashes of the future that the stars bless her with have become more vivid. More real.

She wants to think it's a good thing, that she's becoming more in tune with her ancestors and the mystifying words they give her. In reality, she feels like she's hardly sleeping.

When she wakes up, there is moss scattered over her den. Her first instinct is to find Stormpaw, and he's one nest over, nestled under the rock that she puts lungwort on.

He's taken to his apprenticeship like eagles to the sky. He loves the herbs, the smells don't bother him, and Toro frequently has to groom leaves out of his pelt. He retains everything she tells him, and always makes sure the herbs are organized in just the way she likes them.

One day, this den will be his. He can organize the herbs however he'd like, and he can sleep under the lichen instead of under a mossy rock.

She tucks her head over her paws and drifts back to sleep.

"This is Holly," Ivyleaf says. "Her twoleg was so awful to her, and she's had a bad fright. She's flinchy, and doesn't react well to sudden noise."

Silverbelly nods. "Alright. Stormpaw, I have a job for you."

Stormpaw perks up, a little piece of mallow tumbling from his fur. "Yeah?"

"Go tell your siblings to play quietly. Holly's new and the loud noise scares her."

Stormpaw dutifully nods. "Do you want me to bring her thyme?"

"If you'd like," Silverbelly says. "Just not too much."

Stormpaw scoops up a stalk of thyme and scrambles away.

"He's so gentle," Ivyleaf muses. "You chose your apprentice well."

"I would hope so," Silverbelly laughs. "I can't quite have a reckless medicine cat. Could you imagine Flypaw in here?"

Ivyleaf shivers. "No thank you. Thanks, Silverbelly."

Silverbelly watches her leave.

"This is Moxie," Hailpaw proclaims. "Moxie, this is Oaktuft. She used to be a house cat but now she's a warrior and she's way better at running than you are."

Oaktuft scoffs. "Yeah, we'll see. Race me later?"

Moxie hums. "Sure."

(Moxie, without doubt, kicks his ass. Silverbelly watches as Oaktuft gracelessly falls in love with Moxie from that alone.)

"And, that should do it," Stormpaw says. "Tell me or Silverbelly if it starts feeling hot. We'll change out the poultice twice a day, at sunrise then sunset. Okay?"

Celia blinks at him. "Uh, okay."

Stormpaw, unfortunately, has a habit of speaking too fast for anyone to catch up with. And tends to run into tangents about this plant or the other.

When he runs off to go check on Robinkit, Silverbelly turns back to Celia. "Sorry about him. He gets excited."

"No, it's fine," he laughs. "Finch used to be like that too. Runs off into tangents about this interesting berry she found, or a shiny rock from a garden. I heard the important parts. Tell you if it's hot, change it twice a day."

"Bingo," she says.

"Lichenstripe, meet Silverbelly. Silverbelly, meet Lichenstripe."

"I remember you," Silverbelly says, to the apparent shock of Oaktuft. "You're the medicine cat of Shallowclan. Is everything alright?"

"Eh," Lichenstripe hums. "Long story short, I'm out of a home and I'm staying here now. If that's okay with you," he hastily adds.

"Yeah, sure," she hums. "Make yourself comfortable."

(Later, she learns that Lichenstripe had a vision of one of the newly born kits, Violetkit. She doesn't ask much about it, but it's clear from the twitching of his tail and the way his claws anxiously work at the moss of his nest that it wasn't a very good one.)

"Feels good," Celia hums. "Anyway, you're smart, Silverbelly. What are the chances Goldenstar would agree to a one on one patrol with me?"

Silverbelly gawks. Stormpaw gracelessly trips over a rock. Holly snorts.

"Um," she says. "Next to nothing."

"That's still something!" Celia turns from the den and struts into the clearing. He makes a beeline for Goldenstar, and Silverbelly watches in shock as he walks out of camp with him.

"I give up," she quietly says. "You see that, Stormpaw? Don't do that. If you ever decide you want a mate, don't do what Celia just did."

"But it worked?"

Silverbelly casually observes Oaktuft's crush.

Applebranch and Honeygleam are suffocating from laughter next to her. Dawnshine is trying, and failing, to not snort.

"He's hopeless," Maplethorn mutters. "Give up while you can, Oaktuft. She's too good for you."

Silverbelly has taken Stormpaw out collecting herbs.

"Did you find those daisies yet?" Silverbelly calls.

"Yeah, they're right over here," Stormpaw replies. And then, he goes shudderingly still.

Smells of the stars waft over Silverbelly, but she doesn't interrupt Stormpaw. He could be recieving an important vision.

She carefully plucks away the daisies, and he seems to bounce back.

"Woah," he says. "Is this what getting high on catmint feels like?"

"Not really," Silverbelly winces. Why did she just tell her apprentice that she knew what getting high on catmint felt like.

"It was weird. It was like I was falling."

"Mudsplash! Flyspots!"

Flyspots rushes down to them. Mudsplash is close behind, but she stumbles and her brother pulls ahead.

"Oh, you're warriors, I'm so proud," she whispers, and makes the selective choice to embarass her kits. She dives forward to lick Flyspots' head, and he topples backwards.

"Mom, mom please!"

"Resistance is futile," Applebranch snorts. "Great job, kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore," Flyspots declares. "I'm a warrior."

"You'll always be a kid to me," Applebranch laughs.

"Yeah, because you're old," Mudsplash quips.

Silverbelly jolts, and moves to stand next to Applebranch, who is mock sniffling. "How could you?"

Flyspots looks at them, eyes wide. "No, mama, I didn't mean it. You're not old."

"Yeah, great job, Flyspots," Mudsplash mockingly scowls. "You made her cry."

"You're not old, mama, I swear."

"Swear on a moon of dawn patrols?" Applebranch slyly peeks up.

"On a moon of dawn patrols, you're not old," he says. Then he pauses, seemingly realizing what he's just said. "Fuck."

"I'm expecting, again," Applebranch says. Then she blinks. "Lichenstripe said so, at least."

Stormpaw, who was watching, promptly squeals. "Silverbelly! Silverbelly! Can I help?"

"I don't see why not," she hums. "Lichenstripe will probably deliver the kits, since my nerves got so bad last time. Sunwish had to physically send me out of the den."

"You can be my personal assistant," Applebranch says. "You can shove raspberries and borage down my throat, like this one did last time." She places a paw on Silverbelly's shoulder

She sighs. "I do it to all the queens."

"Mostly me," Applebranch replies.

(When Applebranch tells Flyspots the news, he screams into his nest, and then turns around like nothing just happened and says, "That's great mom!")

"Ivyleaf's gone," Oaktuft mumbles.

"What?" Otterslip stares. "She can't be gone. She's not gone."

"There was an eagle," Moxie tries. "Nothing could have been done."

Otterslip falls silent, then whips around and runs off. Silverbelly feels a pang of pity in her heart.

So maybe that's why she doesn't stop him, when they finally find her body and bring it back to camp. Maybe that's why she doesn't stop him as he sobs over her body, even though she really needs to prepare it for burial.

Moxie and Oaktuft are mates. Dawnshine begrudgingly takes his moon of dawn patrols and complains to Robinpaw, who complains to Stormpaw, who complains to her. And that's how she finds out.

"Maybe he shouldn't place bets he can't win," Stormpaw thoughtfully says.

"He's never been a good better," Silverbelly snorts. "Maybe this one will finally teach him his lesson."

"Thanks, Lichenstripe, I really appreciate it," she says. "Send a patrol for us if we're needed."

Lichenstripe nods, and waves them off. He's not coming for two reasons. One, because Shallowclan would probably get pissed if they knew he was still with the clans, and two, there was something Silverbelly wanted to do tonight.

She meets up with Lakelily, who smiles and asks how she's been. Then, they intersect with Sandcrash and Pearlnose, and finally bump into Sunpetal and Stonepaw, who falls into easy conversation with Stormpaw, like they always do.

"So," Sunpetal glances towards their chatting apprentices. "Stormpaw's getting his name today, right?"

Silverbelly nods. "I'm not sure what I'll name him quite yet. Perhaps Sunwish will offer her guidance?"

Sunpetal hums. "Maybe."

Sunpetal was young. 36 moons, and was already the senior medicine cat of her clan.

"We're having a bit of trouble in the clan," she says. "Thornstar is extremely ill and Snowviper is no better. I fear we'll be leaderless in a moon."

"So, you want Dancingfrost to give you some guidance?" Sandcrash asks. "Thornstar's been sick for moons, hasn't he?"

Sunpetal blearily nods. "Snowviper was fine before, but it came out of nowhere and it hit her hard. She can hardly get out of her nest. Her mate died last evening, that hasn't been helping."

"I'm sorry," Pearlnose says. "I lost an elder to greencough last week. She was old, but it didn't hurt any less."

Sandcrash nods. "I lost Billowkit to kittencough."

The patrol murmurs their apologies.

"How's the rest of the litter?" Pearlnose asks.

"They're alright," Sandcrash murmurs. "Firekit and Poppykit were too young to understand. Swansplash was really upset, but she knew nothing could be done."

Sandcrash had a mate and kits. Not every medicine cat took a mate, but he did. Swansplash was lovely, a long furred molly with bright purple eyes. Pearlnose also had a mate, a cat named Rosebriar. Despite her name, she was widely known as the best fighter in the clans.

Lakelily was 72 moons, but it didn't look like he'd ever take a mate. Sunpetal had offhandedly mentioned a cat named Autumn.

"And Sunpetal," Pearlnose says. "Thornstar is old. He's been leader since before most of us were born. It's probably his time."

"But Snowviper..." Sunpetal trails off. "She's getting worse by the day. I'm afraid she'll be gone soon."

Silverbelly hums. "Wasn't there a situation like that in ArchClan before?"

Sandcrash hums. "Yes, I think so. Starclan sent Whisperingleaf a sign that time, I'd have to ask him."

Before Silverbelly knows it, they're at the mouth of the cave. Stonepaw and Stormpaw's chatter abruptly stops.

"Stormpaw," she calls. "Step forward."

Stormpaw's copper eyes shine bright.

"Dip your nose in the water, and Starclan will call you," she instructs. She glances back at Lakelily to make sure she's doing this right, and he nods.

She settles down, and drifts awake, into a starry hill. Her breath leaves her when she sees Sunwish standing before her.

"Welcome, Stormpaw," she kindly says. "Silverbelly's trained you well."

She sees Wildfang and Breezeshadow standing, watching closely but not interfering.

"I do wish I could have met you," Sunwish sighs. "Maybe in another life. Now, step forward."

Stormpaw carefully steps forward.

"Stormpaw, do you promise to heal and protect your clan?"

"I do," he says. "I promise."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I name you Stormsight. We honor your vigilance and enthusiasm."

Sunwish steps away, and Silverbelly shouts, "Stormsight!"

The other medicine cats join her. Stormsight stares at her, grinning brightly, and Silverbelly grins back.

Stormsight suddenly stops. The sky, previously alight with stars, goes black.

The other medicine cats are deathly still. Stormsight himself isn't moving. Like time has stopped.

Silverbelly looks around herself, shaking as she peers into the pool of water.

A rock drops into it, knocking some water away from the rocks and onto the shore. It shines red as it lands on her paws.

She looks behind her, willing someone who is better at this to help her. Lakelily, Sandcrash, Pearlnose?

They aren't there.

Shaking, she turns back around, and jumps. Stormsight has vanished.

Those fucking rocks.

It's the same dream, of the rocks. The blood trails from one to the next in a single line, and then it abruptly stops.

She stares at the rock. One is brown, the next is a lighter shade. The final rock could barely constitue for brown, it's more orange than anything.

A scream travels behind her, followed closely by a shattering crack. She wants to turn around, but it's like her paws are frozen in place.

Silverbelly screams.

And then she wakes up.

-🍭 (society if tumblr would stop eating my asks)

(first part here)

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT?????? LOLLIPOP MY JAW FUCKING DROPPED I AM CRYING REAL LIFE TEARS. your writing is absolutely INSANE. so vivid and i LOVE your worldbuilding and the little hints to other stuff going on??????? AHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD IM LOSING MY MIND

Lichenstripe having a vision of Violetkit holy shit. the MOXIEOAK. Silverbelly's vision. holy fuck i am losing my mind. correct me if im wrong but. the rocks. Scorchstar and Otterslip. but who is the third rock i am chewing and biting auhghghhgh

#fallenasks #fallenfic #lollipop anon #RAHHHHHHHHHH

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silver-ink-iron-words · 2 years

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Outside the Know, Part 2

A/N - So, multiple people were asking for a continuation of Part 1 in the comments and reblogs. Thank you so much to those who expressed interest! I seriously wasn’t expecting that snippet to get the attention that it did

Though, going forward, if you’d like a continuation, could you please send me an ask? I find those are easier to keep track of than reblog tags

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

Part 1

It only took a little bit of digging to find the rock the civilian had been living under.

Heroes were usually harder to track; they had both the motive and the resources to keep their identities hidden. But civilians never imagined that nefarious actors could ever be interested in them.

Thanks to the villain’s subordinates – a pair of talented young hackers they’d snatched up before law enforcement could – they soon had a stack of tax forms, medical records, and printed out social media posts sitting on their desk.

With context, it was clear why the civilian had been so out of the loop.

As the villain suspected, the civilian was outrageously underpaid, and they worked long hours to make ends meet. They also lived with their sister and her young kid. The villain didn’t have any children, but they’d met enough couples with kids to know that if the civilian was even marginally involved in raising the child, it would take up a substantial portion of their time and attention.

Plus, if the sister’s facebook photos were anything to go by, the TV was typically dominated by PAW Patrol and Sesame Street. The evening news probably wasn’t on very often.

This all explained why the civilian didn’t recognize them, but a more grating question remained.

The villain had a few supporters – mostly communist twitter-users with anime profile pics – but almost everyone thought they were too extreme. So, in a city full of people ready to lick the heroes’ boots, why had the civilian been more hesitant?

The villain was itching to know, and the answer wasn’t going to be found in any of these documents.

_ _ _

When the civilian stepped out of their local coffee shop, they collided face-first with another person. Hot coffee spilled all over their front. They sucked in air, probably to keep from cursing.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Here, I have napkins in my . . . wait, [Civilian]?” The villain whipped off their sunglasses, their expression a perfect image of surprise.

“Radi– ” the civilian started, but the villain clapped a hand over their mouth before they could finish.

At the civilian’s look of hurt confusion, the villain pulled back their hand. “Sorry, sorry,” they said, replacing their sunglasses. “I’m kind of undercover at the moment. It’s my day off.”

“What a coincidence,” the civilian said with a smile. “It’s my day off too.”

The villain wore a look of astonished delight that, frankly, should have won them an Oscar. “What? No way! What are the chances?”

The villain had to practically beg the civilian to let them buy them another coffee. The civilian was irritatingly resistant, forcing them to lay it on thick.

“Please,” they said, already directing the civilian back into the shop. “I might actually die of guilt if you don’t let me make it up to you.”

“Wow,” the civilian said, raising their brows. “You’re such a nice person, you know that?”

Ten minutes later, the two of them were sitting on a secluded park bench with a coffee in each hand and a couple apple cider donuts – the civilian’s favorite, according to instagram – between them. The villain let their conversation dance over the pleasantries and surface-level catching up of a typical run-in, before they advanced with their agenda.

“So [Civilian], I’m curious. I know you don’t care as much about us heroes. But what do you think of villains?”

“Huh?”

“You know, villains. Like the one who robbed a museum last week.” They took a sip, remembering. Though the civilian wouldn’t appreciate it, that heist had been some of the villain’s best work.

“Oh. Well. I think they’re pretty cool.”

The villain spat out their coffee.

“Hey, you okay there?” the civilian said, patting the villain’s back as they coughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” the villain said, waving them away. “But what do you mean by ‘pretty cool’?”

The civilian’s mouth hung open slightly, horror dawning on their face. “Oh no. That was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t it? They’re probably your arch enemy.”

“No, no, I’m not offended.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you’re so open and honest. You make me want to be as well.”

The villain wasn’t going to dwell on that. “Okay, but I’m still curious, what did you mean when you said that?”

The civilian paused, and the villain was afraid they were going to clam up. But then they shrugged and said, “It’s hard to explain. And, as we’ve established, I’m not the most well-informed. But, I don’t know, I just hear things. Like how they mainly target billionaires, and try to shine a light on corruption. It almost feels like they’re fighting for people like me.” They smiled, and the villain noticed they had dimples. “If someone stood up for you, wouldn’t you like them, just a little bit?”

“Yes.” The villain was staring directly at the civilian. “Yes, I think I would.”

_ _ _

It had been easy to find information on the civilian, and it was even easier to keep tabs on them. Which is why, when the civilian was in danger, the villain was notified that very same hour.

Part 3

#villain #villain x civilian #civilian #civilian x villain #snippet #writing snippet #writeblr #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero x villain #villain x hero #not a prompt

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pcwpatrol · 2 months

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First Mission!

This drabble is for @self-indulgent-paw-patrol’s Paw Patrol Appreciation Week! It is about Chase’s first mission is a Paw Patrol pup: locating Chickaletta after she goes missing!

Enjoy!

Chase was lying next to Ryder on a sunny summer day, half-asleep next to his owner’s beanbag up in the top part of the Lookout. The six-month-old shepherd pup was starting to become more relaxed around Ryder, accepting him as his official owner and beginning to totally trust him.

It was a nice feeling, trusting. He considered himself extremely lucky to be Ryder’s pup, really, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Chase’s ears perked up as Ryder’s pup-pad began to ring. He lifted his head and looked up. “Who’s calling, Ryder?”

“Mayor Goodway,” the boy replied, tapping the screen to answer the call. “Hi, Mayor Goodway. What’s th-”

“RYDER!!! It’s an emergency!! I can’t find my sweet Chickaletta ANYWHERE!” she exclaimed, looking completely panicked.

Chase glanced at Ryder, who grinned. “Don’t worry, Mayor- me and Chase will find her!”

He hung up, but Chase was puzzled at first. “How can I help, Ryder?”

Ryder smiled at him. “You remember how I told you about starting official Paw Patrol missions?”

Chase perked up, standing and wagging his tail. “You mean I get to go on my first one?!”

“Yup!”

Totally excited, Chase howled and jumped into the air. “Yes!! I can’t wait!”

“C’mon, Chase, let’s get your gear on!”

Ryder led the pup to the elevator, and as it went down, he fitted Chase with with his vest, pup-pack, and hat.

For Chase, it meant the world.

He was officially a member of the Paw Patrol- and the first one, at that! He couldn’t believe it!

He rushed out to his vehicle, which Ryder had had him test-drive a few times and hopped in. He started the engine and waited for Ryder to pull out of the garage, which he did a moment later, stopping next to Chase. “Ready, buddy?”

“You got it, Ryder!”

So the two took off towards Adventure Bay’s city hall.

…

When they arrived at city hall, Mayor Goodway was still panicking, but she visibly relaxed when she saw Ryder and Chase pull up. “Oh, thank goodness!”

Chase leapt out of his vehicle, feeling confident and ready to find the lost chicken. “Hi, Mayor Goodway! Can you tell me where you last saw Chickaletta?”

The mayor thought for a few seconds. “Well… I thought I saw her in my office, when I was taking care of some paperwork… but when I looked up again, she was gone!”

“Did you leave the office door open?” Ryder asked, coming to stand next to Chase.

“Yes,” she sighed, shaking her head. “That was my mistake. I should know to never leave doors open around that chicken!”

Chase wagged his tail and grinned. “Don’t worry, Mayor- I’ll find her!”

“Thank you, Chase.”

So, once inside the building, the shepherd pup began to sniff around, starting inside the Mayor’s office. He detected Chickaletta’s scent in the corner of the room, where a few kernels of corn lay on the carpet.

Ryder and Mayor Goodway came in. “Mayor, was Chickaletta eating corn kernels when she went missing?” Chase asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Why… yes! She was! I gave her a snack to tide her over until lunch,” Mayor Goodway answered, blinking in confusion. “Are there still pieces over there?”

“Yeah…” Chase kept sniffing, and the smell of corn and of Chickaletta herself led him out of the office and out into the main lobby. He looked at the stairs leading to the next level of the building, raising an eyebrow. “I think she went upstairs.”

“How do you know?” the Mayor asked.

“The smell leads up there,” the pup explained, narrowing his eyes with determination. “I’m gonna find her!”

Letting the scent continue to lead him onward, Chase dashed upstairs and looked around. It was dark up here, but a couple more tiny pieces of corn lay at his paws at the top of the staircase.

Nose to the ground, Chase pressed on, but his tail was now wagging. He’d find that silly chicken in no time!

However, he was puzzled when the scent led him to a window. Chickaletta wasn’t there.

Ryder and Mayor Goodway came upstairs, too. “Whatcha got, buddy?” Ryder inquired.

“I’m not sure where she went,” Chase said, tilting his head slightly to one side. “Her scent leads to this window, but it’s closed.”

“That window is rather squeaky and old,” Mayor Goodway put in. “I do believe I left it open this morning, so it could have shut on its own, but… oh no! Did she fall out?!”

“I dunno,” Chase said slowly, squinting at the windowsill. The marks of a small bird’s toes (claws) were scratched onto it, confirming the Mayor’s worry: her pet chicken must’ve fallen out.

Chase got onto his back paws and looked outside, down to the ground with his front paws against the windowsill. He was surprised to see Chickaletta down there in the thick bushes, clucking casually as if nothing were wrong.

Chase beamed. “I found her!” he announced.

Mayor Goodway and Ryder looked down, too, and the Mayor sighed in relief. “Oh, my sweet chickie-poo! She’s alright!”

Chase was given a quick scratch behind the ear, making him lean into the touch and pant happily, but then Mayor Goodway hurried downstairs to fetch Chickaletta.

Ryder led Chase downstairs, chuckling. “Easy mission, huh?”

“Yeah!” Chase nodded. “It was almost too easy!”

“You know what that means, buddy?”

“What?”

Ryder knelt down and hugged Chase. “It means you were born to be a Paw Patrol pup!”

The police pup was confused. “Huh?”

Ryder laughed, pulling away. “This mission proved to me that you’re capable of being a real rescue dog- even if it was just finding a chicken.” He smiled, putting his hand on the young dog’s shoulder. “You were meant to be a police pup, Chase.”

Grinning back, Chase licked Ryder’s face. “Thanks, Ryder!”

He puffed out his chest. “I’m gonna be the best police pup Adventure Bay had ever had!”

…

I know, I know- super easy and cheesy, right? Well, I didn’t have any very good ideas for a first mission, so this is what came of it. XD

#Drabbles- Chase #pawpatrolweek24 #self-indulgent-paw-patrol #don’t reblog unless you’re the person i tagged please

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blues-hub-blog · 2 months

Text

Playtime!

The art below the cut is mine, and it was drawn for @self-indulgent-paw-patrol’s Paw Patrol Appreciation Week!

#i know it’s messy #but hey i tried!#pawpatrolweek24 #don’t reblog unless you’re the person i tagged!

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marshallpupfan · 4 months

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First Marshall Merch. Update of 2024!

Using some of my recent Christmas money, I bought a few things I happened to spot on Amazon. Speaking of merchandise, did you know the new Jungle Pups toys are already available in the United Kingdom? Not so here in the United States yet, of course. They sure do like making us wait sometimes! 😅

First off, this "Squish Plush" from GUND. It's an interesting one, that's for sure. I've known about these for some time, and although I've seen some in stores based on other franchise, I've yet to see any of PAW Patrol. Fortunately, they're sold on Amazon, and it only took a few days to arrive, too!

I need a better name than just "Squish Plush". How about... Egg Marshall? Or "Eggshall Plush"! That kind of works. lol

Next, this "Take Along Buddy" plush, also from GUND. You know, they always make some fine plush dolls, and I'd say both of these dolls are no exception!

To be honest, I didn't think they were going to make one of Marshall at first. You see, while browsing Twitter/X one day, I'd seen an advertisement about one of these, but they only showed Chase. A friend did some research after that, but the only listings she could find were of Chase, Skye and Rubble. I thought they decided to pass up Marshall this time, which was certainly a bummer... but then, about a week ago, I seen some for sale on Ebay, and much to my surprise, they had Marshall! And... well, of course I couldn't resist getting one!

However... for the price ($20), it's smaller than I expected.

And that's it for now! Well... kind of. Something I forgot to mention on my last merchandise update is that, outside of the items I showed off, I received a few other things, too. You see, the bad thing about owning such a large collection of Marshall merchandise is that, when my family tries to buy me things for Christmas or my Birthday, they're often not aware of what I already own... so they take a guess and hope what they found is something I don't own.

(Sorry about the brightness...)

Case in point, these two items my brother bought me. I'm certainly grateful, and I appreciate the thought.

It's just too bad I already own both of them. Well, maybe I can find a spot for them somewhere... maybe around the house, so it's not just my room that contains Marshall merch. lol

My aunt also tried buying me some Marshall items, too.

Such as this Mighty Movie Marshall plush. This is actually one of the first products I bought of The Mighty Movie, back before the film was even in theaters. I'm not sure what to do with this extra one though.

She also bought me one other item. She said it was "cube" shaped, which confused me at first. I figured she found the same thing my brother had just gifted me, and I wasn't sure what I was going to do with a third one.

Instead, it was...

...um. Well, I didn't expect that. I think she saw the red hat and assumed it was Marshall. Again, it's the thought that counts!

Actually, in terms of Rubble & Crew characters, Charger is my favorite of the bunch. In that sense, she technically DID pick out my favorite, just... the wrong cartoon. lol

And that's all for now! For real this time. I'm hoping that, at some point this month, we'll finally get those Jungle Pups toys! Come on, Spin Master, don't make me book a plane over to the UK. Seriously, don't make me do that; they have a bunch of exclusive merchandise that can't be found in the United States, and given how I can't resist buying merch of Marshall, I'd go bankrupt within an hour. lol

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duaghterofstories · 11 months

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Once Beautiful Beast

Day One of Tamlin Appreciation Week: Beast

@tamlinweek2023

TW: Lot's of self hatred and self esteem issues.

Implied Tamlin x Tarquin.

Monster.

He was a monster.

He knew what people thought of him.

Feyre, Lucien, everyone, left him, it was what everyone did.

He was in what he could consider a bed, though it really was not too close to the bed he had once slept in. It was a nest now. Broken and torn. Shattered and rearranged.

He was a beast.

He deserved to be left alone.

“Tamlin?” asked a male voice. “Tamlin, are you here?”

Tamlin looked over at the voice barely recognized, hiding. Away from the world.

If he would just leave, like he deserved. To be alone. To be kept away from everyone. Everyone he might hurt. Everyone who left him was right.

“Tamlin?” he called again. “I heard you were patrolling the court.”

“I have to keep it safe.” said Tamlin after a moment, voice husky from the lack of use and the beast larynx. It hurt to speak, hurt to move too much. But it was the pain he deserved.

“I know.” said the male, walking toward his voice, kneeling down so he was eye to eye with Tamlin’s lithe and hurt form. “But it’s safe here. There’s no one here to be hurt.”

Tamlin could see him better now. It was the High Lord of Summer. Tarquin.

“High Lord Tarquin.” Tamlin muttered slightly, giving a small bow. They were no longer equals. Tamlin was lord of nothing. “Just leave.” said Tamlin, backing up, tail lashing in agitation. “Everyone does, you have no reason to stay.”

“I care.” said the male softly. “I care, is that not enough of a reason?”

“Lucien left.” Tamlin said. “He was there for my worst times and he left. There is no reason to stay, nothing worth being with me for. I hurt my people, even though I promised I wouldn’t become my father.” he was shaking now, though if it was because he could finally feel the hunger and pain that had been affecting him since the fall of the court, or because the emotions he had been stamping down were finally coming out.

The male sat down, not interrupting, just listening.

“Feyre… I hurt her, I locked her up, I injured her.” He sobbed deeply, though there were no tears to cry, no water to waste. “My people left, and I–” Tamlin keened a deep, primal, and animalistic, fitting for what he was.

A monster. A Beast.

“Well,” Tarquin hesitated, unsure as to what to do. “Um, we can fix this.”

“Why would you help me?” asked Tamlin. “You heard what I did to Feyre, and Lucien, and my people. There’s no reason to help me.”

“Because you are a good male, and you were a proud High Lord. I want to see this court return to what I remember it was like in my 20’s and what I remember it could, and should, be.” Tarquin said, reaching out and grabbing his, well, not hand. Paw. “If we repair it, your people will return.” Tarquin added to Tamlin’s skeptical gaze.

“Do you just want them to leave your court alone?” Tamlin asked with a sigh.

“I mean, it doesn’t help, but they don’t seem to fit in Summer. Too hot for them. I’ve heard the complaints.” Tarquin said dryly.

“Yeah. Fair.” Tamlin said.

Tarquin reached over and touched the matted fur. “We need to clean this,” he muttered. “It should be nicer. The form of a High Lord.”

“I am the high lord of nothing.” Tamlin said, slinking down again, hurt once more at the reminder.

“You are the High Lord of Spring. You must be strong with your title and keep this proud court as the shining beauty it deserves to be.” Tarquin knelt down and held his head. “If not for you, for your people, who deserve to be proud of their homeland.”

Tarquin met his eyes and Tamlin sighed, leaning in and his body shifted, reforming into the body of a High Fae once more, his matted blond hair replacing the matted fur, his bones aching and creaking at the abrupt change, used to only walking for hours a day then sleeping for a few hours, sometimes only one or two, after months of the repetition.

He stumbled, used to being on his four legs and now needing to relearn to step on his two legs.

He stumbled and fell onto Tarquin’ arms, held out and ready.

“Come on.” said Tarquin. “Let’s clean you up, then work on the court.”

Tamlin nodded sleepily, months of not sleeping catching up to him.

“By the cauldron,” said Tarquin. “What have you been doing.” he picked up Tamlin, holding him bridal style and carrying him over to the nearby stream, placing Tamlin in it and rubbing dirt and mud off of his once soft skin.

“Patrolling.” said Tamlin as his head lolled back and he fell asleep, the months of sleep deprivation catching up with him, and the safe feeling of Tarquin being with him making him calmer and less high on adrenaline.

He knew that there was a high chance Tarquin would be gone when he woke up, but that was no less then he deserved.

And if Tarquin stayed, well, that was better for Tamlin.

It must be hard to love him.

But maybe he wasn’t unlovable.

Even if he was a Beast.

#tamlin #tarquin #tarquin acotar #tamlin acotar #pro tamlin #tamlinweek2023 #angst #hurt comforting #bathing #washing #soft #tamlin x tarquin implied

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obsidiancreates · 1 year

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Random Into The Neon Rambles (Angsty 2012 Universe Stuff. I mean seriously sad, I cried writing it.)

So I've had the WORST brain fog lately (we keep intending to get a Covid test but it's been over a week and a half now since my breathing became like Just Swam Up From The Bottom Of The Pool But That All The Time and it still hasn't happened yet so IDK at this point, it's dependent on the cleaning schedules) and haven't been able to write SHIT so here's some completely word-vomit rambles about this AU.

April and Casey are still alive in the 2012 universe, but of course the boys died at 19 and I headcanon that they turned 19 in Season 4 and were 19 through all of Season 5 so that means Splinter is dead. The Mutanimals actually moved into the lair and take very good care of it, they set up a memorial to the boys right beside the one for Splinter. April and Casey see them often, Leatherhead took over the main care of Ice Cream Kitty, and they're all trying to get by. April's dad has his hands full these days, trying to be a grief counselor for all of them, and it's difficult because it's not his specialty. At this point he's always on the lookout for therapists and psychiatrists who are either mutant-friendly or, more ideally, mutants themselves.

There's actually quite a bit of focus now on finding and helping other mutants. The reason for the boys deaths was kind of the last Big Thing to happen, so there's not a lot of combat to do in the years following. The occasional alien issue, but April has been practicing and growing her powers with a focus that Casey likes to think is her way of honoring the turtles, specifically Leo and Donnie really, and The Mutanimals have been too.

The boys were alone together when they died. Partly by their own design, making sure no-one else got hurt... or worse.

They knew there was a strong chance they wouldn't make it out this time.

So Earth is well-protected by a powerful, grieving telekenetic/psychic/empath/ninja/general badass alongside a group of kick-ass mutant, a grieving Salamadarian soldier who keeps Raph's mask on her whenever she patrols, a grieving basically-son who's like 10 feet tall and can crush practically any enemy with his mace, a grieving best friend who's determined to carry both Mikey's kindness and ferocity with him always, a grieving teen who just lost some of the first people to truly help him after being kicked out for his mutation, and of course, a grieving big sister who lost her brothers the same way she lost her father and mother: before she could truly know them.

Yes, Karai knew the boys for a few years. But she never knew them outside of War. She never knew them in casual settings, she never even thought to try when they were alive. Now not only are they gone, but the last people who knew her father are, too. April tries to share stories of Splinter, but she can't tell Karai what he was like on birthdays. She can't tell her what he was like as a father, not just to teens, but through childhoods. Karai lost the last of her family before she could even fully appreciate finding them. She's trying, now. She helps a lot with the efforts to find and help mutants who have nowhere else to go. She takes a lot of them into her reformed Foot Clan, trains them to be able to defend themselves, and uses the vast network of international resources for anything that can help. She does it in remembrance of her father, who raised four little mutants as his sons, and those four sons, who accepted her and loved her even after she did horrible things to them more than once, who showed her there was a way beyond The Shredder's and helped her to be free of him.

April tries to find them sometimes. She never learned that kind of thing from Splinter, and her powers actually make it harder to connect to the spirit world sometimes. It's a different energy, one she isn't used to, and she has no teacher. She's felt, at most, a comforting presence, the faintest tough of a familiar paw, but nothing from the boys themselves. She can only hope that Splinter's assurance means they're okay, wherever they are in the universe.

Ice Cream Kitty was very confused for a while. She would yowl and yowl for Mikey. She would climb out of the freezer and drag herself to his room to look for him. At some point they put Mikey's mask in there with her, and a few of his comics. It helped.

They could all tell when she understood. That day, instead of finding her in his room after she escaped, she dragged herself to April in the dojo and meowed sadly until April held her. April cried. Ice Cream Kitty didn't make a peep. April felt the sadness of the kitty more strongly than the cold or stickiness of the ice cream in her arms.

It's been less time for them. The boys are 10 at this point in Into The Neon, for them it's been half the time. 5 years. April is in college, community college. She's not sure what she wants to go into. She thought biomedical for a while, but she kept wanting to ask Donnie for help when she got stuck.

She dropped the class.

Casey is mostly working with The Mutanimals. Leatherhead actually keeps trying to get him to take a break from it, concerned about how much he throws himself into battle. Casey is working on it. He had a breakthrough recently. He has Survivor's Guilt. The boys told him and April to go and convince any stragglers to evacuate, and they did. He wished he'd stayed. He knows he couldn't have stopped what happened, but his last interaction with any of them was a quick nod and a 'Got it.'

He believed they'd come back. Really. He knows April didn't, and tried to assure her. "Those guys are unkillable," he'd said. "If space aliens and Super Shredders couldn't get them, nothin' can!"

He remembers falling to his knees when they came back to the wreckage and saying "Just had to prove me wrong, didn't you?" It was the hollowest he'd ever felt, and he doesn't really remember the words like they came from him. He just remembers hearing them in his voice, distant and far away while he waited for someone to move, cough, shout at him to help them up already, anything.

They were buried on the farm, of course, next to their father. Doctor Cluckingsworth actually protects the graves from the other chickens, and when the others come to visit she usually comes by with some flowers she picked for them. She really only knew Mikey very well, but Mikey loved his brothers, and she remembers that.

The worst part was how peaceful everything became after. April was so angry that they didn't get to see it. That she's living in a world where, slowly, mutants are more able to be known and exist, where there's not a constant threat, where there's chances for harmless fun and just being happy, and they can't be there for it. When they announced a live-action reboot of Crognard she blew up the TV without even meaning to. She just saw it and thought 'I gotta tell Mikey' and then it was obliterated and she was sobbing in her dad's arms.

Casey actually does have something he's considering. He's been the one trying to keep the old vehicles in shape, and he thinks maybe he could be a mechanic or some kind of engineer. He thinks Donnie would laugh about the engineer thing because of all the math that takes, but he's gotten better at it. He has to use Donnie's old blueprints a lot to make sure he's not breaking The Shellraizer or The Party Wagon or the go-karts or anything else while trying to repair it, and you can't really pour over Donnie's stuff and work on the same things without absorbing a little. He's not a whiz by any means, can't do even a quarter what Donnie could, but they work together well. He remembers that every time he repairs a new hole Slash made by accident, or something Mondo accidentally ripped our with his tail while skating past, or anything like that. He remembers working on the hot rod in the barn with Donnie and wishes they made more wild things with each other instead of fighting all the time. He liked that Donnie matched his energy, could go toe-to-toe with him, that they could get into awful fights and rip each other apart verbally and it didn't really matter to either of them. He liked Raph for the same reason. And he liked Leo because he seemed all calm and cool but you could stoke a real fire out of him, and he liked Mikey for a similar reason-

He cries a lot while he's doing these repairs. It's a safe place to do it, and if any of the others have noticed (they have) they don't mention it. They never interrupt him, though he knows April is keeping a psychic eye on him most of the time. Whatever. He's keeping a (regular) eye on her all the time too. At least when he cries over their lost friends, it doesn't have a chance of rattling half the city like they're sitting on a fault line.

Chompy still refuses to fall asleep unless Mona is holding him and she has Raph's mask out. Chompy snuggled his face against it. Slash watches him when Mona can't, because for a while they were deeply worried about the little guy. He was depressed without Raph, and he got sick. It took a lot of patience and care to get him to the other side of that, and the two of them basically made it their whole purpose in life to keep Chompy going. For Raph.

Everyone's trying their best, all for the sake of the boys. For their memories.

They're having a hard time of it.

But they're trying.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #angst #major character death #grief tw

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self-indulgent-paw-patrol · 2 months

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Paw Patrol Appreciation Week 2024

Saturday - Facing Fears

(Posting this one day late because I was busy and feeling sick yesterday)

I headcanon that Zuma's worst fear is of finding himself alone. He's an extremely social dog and is always around someone, even if they're not directly interacting - just staying in the same room or place is enough. If he ever finds himself in an unknown place, without his family or friends, and unable to contact them, he will very probably panic badly.

He never talked about it to the other pups or to Ryder, though. Ryder only knows it because when Zuma was still in training, he destroyed at least four beds, a couple bowls and some chewing toys by chewing and literally eating through them whenever he was left unattended for a longer period, which are clear signals of separation anxiety. It took Ryder some patience and compromise on letting Zuma stay around and even sleep with him until he got better with time, especially after the pup got past the initial phase of getting used to his new home and friends.

#I just wanna add that I'll never get over those Chase slippers #PawPatrolWeek24 #Paw Patrol Appreciation Week #Paw Patrol #Paw Patrol Fanart #Ryder #Zuma #Paw Patrol Ryder #Paw Patrol Zuma

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kitmoas · 2 years

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The Chronicles of a Sweet Toy

A Training Grounds Mini Series

Summary: The sweetest side of Toy makes everyone around them melt. (Insert a squishable super soldier)

Warnings: Ageplay (Think that's it, let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: This has been a long time coming, and I'm super excited to put out these drabbles. I'll be posting one every day for a week.

***Minors DNI***No Smut rn but this is an 18+ Universe***

You’re shivering under the blanket, cuddling the new stuffie that Daddy just got you. It’s a red Dino with a wiggly thing on his back, you giggled when your Mommy dramatically named him King Wiggles. Your tummy was hurting and you were freezing, but you were watching Natasha run around in circles panicking. She had mentioned a fever, but you didn’t understand. How could you be hot and cold at the same time?

The ginger is in the kitchen now, after turning on the television for you to Paw Patrol, mumbling something about her father and soup. A whimper leaves your lips when she yells across from you to take your thumb out of your mouth, “Germs detka, that’s why you’re sick.”

Zuma is swirling around in water on the screen and it makes your head hurt, you shove your fists in your eyes trying to stop the pounding. You try to focus on the soft sounds of the ginger cooking, but breathing starts to get hard and frustrated tears start filling your eyes. Hiding under the blanket away from the sunlight helps a little, but you want Mommy to use her magic and fix you. The thought of the witch makes the heavy tears start streaming down your face and before long you’re sobbing loudly, coughing aggressively.

You can hear Natasha’s voice trying to sooth you as she rushes to finish your food, but you’re starting to panic now. Trapped in the blanket and you can no longer tell where Wiggles is, you start flailing around missing the opening of the elevator. You try to stand up, wanting to be closer to your Daddy, but your legs are tangled in the blanket and the moment you try staggering towards the kitchen you’re falling. A rough shriek scratches your raw throat but you never hit the floor, instead your overheated face is caught by a soft body. It’s the cool metal that is against the side of your head that makes you immediately sink deeper.

Natasha is rushing towards you, her eyes wide as she stares down at you curled up on top of Bucky. “Are you guys okay? Little Toy, Daddy is here.” You barely acknowledge her, instead turning your head to rest fully in the crook of his cold metal elbow. “Bucks, are you okay? Did you..you jumped over the couch?” She’s looking around the area now, noticing the cushions are all fallen and the fact that he’s now awkwardly laying on the ground.

The soldier chuckles, rubbing his free hand over his face, as he looks up at the widow. “I just got back from a meeting and this silly doll almost fell trying to come to you, just tried to keep them safe.” He’s blushing now under the appreciative look he is receiving. The widow knows that he’s always been really interested in finding someone like her little toy, but he’s yet to find anyone that clicks. “I can hang with them while you finish up. I think they like my arm.”

Natasha lets them be, watching for a moment as she walks away as Bucky slowly stands and sits with you curled up in his arm. It’s about two episodes of Paw Patrol when the ginger finally walks back into the living area with a tray of soup, crackers, and sprite. You’re babbling around Bucky’s fingers, which are now in your mouth, as you try to tell him about the show. A gentle tap on your head gets your attention and you look up to see your Daddy smiling at you, “Little Toy, what did I say about fingers? Hmm?” She’s touching your head and the back of your neck, seemingly satisfied for now with the temperature she feels. “Did you like hanging out with Bucky?” The widow watches you put the cool arm back on your forehead, cringing as she knows you’re still slightly warm.

Struggling to nod, “Uh huh, can I hang out with Mr. Robot again?”. You innocently look up at Natasha with a smile. She pushes the soup in towards you a little, and you happily start eating the dinosaur shaped pasta noodles.

You miss the look shared between the two Russian soldiers, but it’s Bucky who leans forward. “Well little robot, if you wanna next time we hang out we can build you your own arm?” Your excited nod makes the two smile.

Natasha sighs, sliding to sit next to you. “Don’t let your Mommy know I’m letting you get a vibranium arm, okay?” She winks at Bucky as she steals one of your crackers. The sound of Chase and Marshall fighting crime in the background as the two Avengers settle into casual conversation.

Tag list: @simplysimping999 @8bitscarlet @simpfornatasharomanoff @yourtaletotell @s1ut4nat @simpforflorencepugh1 @theperfectlovestory @katebishop-ladyarrow @widowbitessting @uraveragequeer @didujustcallmedumb @inluvwithfictionalwomen @ali-lie

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antclan-blogs · 6 months

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MOON 42

Lotuspaw becomes Lotuspelt. Brookpaw has her tail amputated and Prairiepaw has whitecough.

This moon’s story under the cut!

“Sorry to hear about your tail, Brookpaw.” Lotuspelt mewed sympathetically, padding into the medicine den. It had been a few days since the young she-cat had been made a warrior, and she had been feeling guilty about her quick judgment of Slightstar’s litter. As of recently, she had been trying to make more of an effort to be nice to them.

“S’okay. A missing tail won’t bother me on patrols, and at least it won’t swish on the ground and scare off prey anymore.” Brookpaw sighed, twisting to look at the slowly healing stump where her tail had been. “Hushstep had no choice but to amputate, anyway. It was infected.”

“Well, it’s a shame. Your tail was very pretty.” Lotuspelt half-joked, smiling kindly as a sort of silent peace offering.

“Yes, it was.” Prairiepaw agreed from the back of the den, where she was resting in her nest during a bout of whitecough. “Nice pattern.”

Brookpaw let out a mrrow of appreciative laughter. “Thanks. I forgot to congratulate you on becoming a warrior, Lotuspelt.” She mewed.

“Oh, it’s alright. Not much different really. You still have to go on patrols and hunt, and the older warriors still boss you around like you’re a misbehaving kit.” Lotuspelt explained.

“Probably because you all act like it.” Berryspot mewed, trotting into the den with a mouthful of poppy seeds.

“You’re not much better.” Prairiepaw mewed indignantly, though humour glinted in her eyes. “Sometimes you can be as mousebrained as a careless kit yourself.”

“I second that!” Hushstep called, re-entering the den after checking up on Rivernose.

“How is he?” Berryspot asked, choosing to ignore his fellow medicine cat’s cheekiness. “Any better?”

“Not really. Poor soul, he took Chaffinchbounce’s death really hard.” Hushstep sighed. “I don’t know how else to comfort him, all he wants to do is sleep. Did you get more poppy seeds?”

“Yes, I just fetched some there.” Berryspot nodded, gesturing to the neat pile of seeds at his paws. Hushstep nodded his thanks and took a few in his jaws, trotting back to the elder’s den to feed them to Rivernose.

“Poor Rivernose. He and Chaffinchbounce were so close.” Lotuspelt sighed. “I can’t imagine losing my mate. They were friends even long before that, so it must really hurt to not have him around.”

“I always thought Rivernose would die first.” Brookpaw piped up, and Berryspot shot her a horrified glance.

“Brookpaw! That’s an awful thing to say.” The Berryspot told her firmly.

“I bet you did too.” The headstrong apprentice muttered, and Prairiepaw shrugged.

“I suppose I did. But it’s still sad.” She told her sister. “And you shouldn’t say stuff like that right after a cat dies. It’s disrespectful.”

Brookpaw rolled her eyes. “Alright, keep your pelt on. I was just SAYING.”

“How’s your cough, Prairiepaw?” Berryspot asked, approaching the apprentice at the back of the den.

“Better today. I reckon I’ll be all cured in no time.” Prairiepaw answered quickly.

“That’s the hope. It’s not a serious case, at least.” Berryspot shrugged. “As long as you get plenty of rest and don’t try to sneak out.”

Prairiepaw scoffed. The previous week, the medicine cats had caught her trying to escape the stuffy medicine den and hunt in the forest. She was not one to sit still for long periods of time.

“I can’t believe you were caught. Rookie mistake.” Brookpaw laughed. “If you want to be professional about it, ask to go out to make dirt and escape through the gap in those big rocks—“

“That’s enough escape planning, thanks. Being out in the forest and careening around like a rabid squirrel won’t do Prairiepaw any good, no matter how ‘cured’ she’s feeling.” Berryspot interrupted.

“Hushstep says you used to be a menace just like us. Is that true?” Brookpaw asked, changing the subject.

“I guess I was, as a kit. But as an apprentice I matured.” Berryspot answered shortly.

“Bet Hushstep would tell us different.” Prairiepaw protested. “There’s no way YOU were a perfect apprentice.”

“Oh, Hushstep would certainly tell you a story or two.” Berryspot smirked. “But don’t believe everything you hear.”

i love the repertoire between prairie, brook and berry, it’s fun to write

#warrior cats #clangen #antclan #clan generator #warriors

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marshallfan99 · 9 months

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Happy 10th Anniversary, PAW Patrol!!!

Wow, I can't believe it's already been 10 years...it feels like it was just recently that I was sitting there in the living room of my family's vacation rental home in front of the TV and watching the premiere episode with my brothers...and then spending the rest of the week in front of the TV watching new episodes every day because I couldn't do anything else with a giant cast on my dominant arm. Marshall and the other pups kept me occupied during that otherwise painful vacation, and I've stuck with PAW Patrol ever since.

(That's only ONE of the MANY Marshall moments that cheered me up and made me laugh during that week.)

(And here's another one...also relatable since I'm always falling down stairs and stuff 😅)

This show has helped me through so many tough times in my life, like depression, anxiety, etc. It acts as a great escape from reality, an amazing source of comfort, something that's easy to just turn on and watch when I need to unwind or want something I can have lighthearted fun with, it's easy to just turn it on after meltdowns or when my brain is fried and veg out to it since it's harmless fun that doesn't cause intense emotional responses from me, and I even binge it during nights where I have insomnia! It's so important to me, and it even saved my life a couple times...yep, that's right, the pups have saved me too, that's how much of an impact they've had on me. They've taught me so many things as well, from the importance of teamwork, to never giving up when things get "ruff" (hehe, sorry I had to, that's my inner Marshall at work 😅), to always looking out for your friends and helping them whenever you can, to "Do my best, and forget the rest!", to the very important message of you don't have to have superpowers to be a hero (this one was WAY before Mighty Pups was a thing).

(Seriously this is one of my mottos, thanks for that lesson, Marshall!)

(Had to put a Mighty Pups GIF in here after ending the paragraph by mentioning it lol)

I never stopped liking PAW Patrol even during the time I had to take a break from it for my mental health reasons, and I actually missed it so much during my time away from it. Eventually I decided I couldn't stay away any longer and came back to it with the goal of using it to help me overcome my severe PTSD siren phobia, which is why I had to step away in the first place...and it's working! I can actually watch it now without freaking out and going into panic mode which is great because now I can watch my favorite show with no problems, just like I used to!

When PAW Patrol premiered back in 2013, it VERY quickly became a special interest for me even though I was NEVER in the target age range for it, being in my early teens when it premiered, and I'm also actually afraid of dogs in real life...cartoon dogs like the PAW Patrol pups are cool though, and Marshall is my favorite cartoon dog of all time, and he's actually tied with a Pokemon (another special interest of mine) character for my number one favorite fictional character of all time! He's so relatable, adorable, funny, and has a truly PAWsome personality! Also the fact that he is TWO THIRDS of 911, BY HIMSELF is pretty amazing too in my opinion. Unfortunately his skills aren't needed much anymore in the newer seasons, which makes me kinda sad. I wish he got more screentime in the newer seasons...but instead it's always Chase and Skye now. I am still hoping for him to get his own focus movie though. I'm holding myself back from going on and on about Marshall this time, I've done that enough in my Marshall appreciation post and this whole account already and this is supposed to be about PAW Patrol as a whole anyway, not just him 😅

(The most PAWsome team ever!)

My parents don't really approve of me getting and playing with the toys and merch, but I can still get it thanks to my grandma who knows how important PAW Patrol is to me...in fact, I just got a couple of Mighty Pups t-shirts (because of the upcoming Mighty Movie) thanks to her, one of them featuring a huge image of Mighty Marshall (of course, that one is my favorite), the other one featuring an image of Mighty Chase, Marshall, Rubble, and Skye with the text, "Mighty Pup Power!" I was so thrilled to learn that there are officially licensed PAW Patrol shirts in adult sizes and had to get some! If anyone else wants to get some PAW Patrol shirts in your size, Amazon has plenty of adult-sized PAW Patrol shirts to choose from, with some PAWsome designs too! I'm so happy that the creators know that this show has a strong teen/adult fanbase, and acknowledge us by making shirts that fit us! And I'm so happy that this show exists!

(This is my favorite part of the opening theme!)

(Cute dancing pups from the movie!)

This has been a long rambly post, but I really wanted to post something for PAW Patrol's 10th anniversary, and talk about how much it means to me. Growing up autistic and with no friends, just bullies for the majority of my life because of it, made me turn to the TV for comfort, and I often saw the characters on TV shows I watched as my friends. I had a very lonely life and when PAW Patrol premiered, I found seven new friends in the pups and Ryder (with Marshall being my best friend), and I tuned in for every new episode when I could, to watch their latest adventures. Starting with Everest, each time a new pup (or cat) has been added to the team has felt to me like I also gained a new friend as well, even though I do have actual friends now, the PAW Patrol still feel like friends to me. It wasn't a "phase" like my parents had always said, it still isn't a "phase"...it's a HUGE part of my life and I'm extremely grateful that PAW Patrol is still going strong even after 10 years and 10 seasons.

Happy 10th, PAW Patrol! And here's to many more years and adventures to come in the future!

#paw patrol #paw patrol 10th anniversary #happy 10th paw patrol!#seriously i can't believe it's already been 10 years!#special interest #long post #plenty of gifs to break it up though #paw patrol appreciation post #i love this show so much #this franchise means a lot to me #marshall talks #marshall rambles...a lot 😅

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7-wonders · 2 years

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Between the Stars

Summary: When you rescued Julia and made it safely back to your world, you had assumed that was the end of your Underworld journey. Your heart, however, has other plans in mind.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter of It's Only Forever! The next chapter will be tie up loose ends, then we're done. 🥲 I sincerely hope that you guys enjoy, and I thank you for reading this passion project of mine.

It’s Only Forever Masterlist

It’s odd, the way that life can just…return back to normal after such a world-altering event. Or, back to as normal as possible when everything that you thought you knew has been turned upside down. You’ve been through an unbelievable journey through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, yet the world still continues to spin just as it had prior to that night, people continuing to live their lives as they always had. On the outside, nothing’s changed. The more time that passes since you met the Demon King, you’re wondering if you maybe made it all up.

Julia didn’t remember anything about the Underworld, that much you’re sure of. If there’s one thing you know about her, it’s that she’s a chatterbox. When her parents had asked her if she had fun with you that fateful night, you had cringed and expected her to tell them that she had been kidnapped by a bunch of demons and that you had to fight your way through a labyrinth to save her. Instead, she told them excitedly about the cookies you baked, the extra episodes of Paw Patrol you let her watch (okay, that did make you cringe because you know she’s not supposed to have extra screen time, but it’s hard when she’s so cute and convincing), and the fun princess story you told her.

For Julia, there had been no interruption in her life, no fantasy adventure that she had been dragged upon. That had been your main worry upon returning from the Underworld, that you would have to try and explain what had happened to you both. So it should be a good thing that she wasn’t permanently traumatized from what she went through, considering that saving Julia was your top priority when he stole her away from you. It is a good thing.

And so, you follow the lead of a three-year-old and try to move on with your life, getting back into the routine of school and work and being a twenty-something. ‘Try’ being the key word. It’s difficult to fully move on when the reason you were there in the first place and the Demon King that you have conflicting feelings for is everywhere. Not everywhere in the sense that he follows you, which is almost disappointing. Rather, reminders of him follow you no matter where you are.��

You’ll hear a laugh that sounds just like his and turn around in excitement, or smell the cherries and burnt wood that are so unmistakably Michael. Sometimes you swear you can feel his presence right behind you, only to turn around and find nobody there. Last week had been the worst of these cases of mistaken identity. While shelving books at work, you had glanced out of the storefront windows to see a tall, lean man with golden locks wearing all-black walking past. You were so sure that it was Michael that you abandoned the books you had been shelving to run outside, leaving your coworkers behind you calling your name in confusion. Much to your disappointment, he was nowhere to be seen when you made it to the busy sidewalk, nor was whoever had looked like him.

It’s maddening, and you wish that you weren’t so hung up on him. After all, you only knew him for a total of thirteen hours, and those thirteen hours were spent trying to get back the child you nannied, the child he kidnapped. Yet…you can’t stop thinking about your last moments with him. Scratch that. You can’t stop thinking about every single interaction that you had with him in those thirteen hours. Whether it be the way that the air seemed to spark with electricity whenever you were around each other or the way he kissed you so tenderly, the appreciative look in his blue eyes at your wit or how he was willing to give you everything just so that you would say you love him like he loves you. There’s no way you could have ever dreamed up anything like that.

You really don’t know what to make of these feelings. It seems illogical and stupid that you could be feeling something like love for Michael, both after he constructed an elaborate kidnapping plot just to get you to the Underworld and (you can’t stress this enough) the fact that you only knew him for thirteen hours. Could these feelings, the heartache and the sadness and the feeling that there’s something missing from you, be warranted?

There’s one person (couple, you suppose) that knows more about love than anybody you’ve ever met, and you just so happen to nanny their child. Even just watching them when they get home tonight after your regular Thursday daycare pickup, you can see how in love Kit and Alma Walker are with each other. You’ve been deliberately slow in getting out the door tonight, lingering and chatting about minute subjects while you wait for the perfect chance to talk to Alma. Finally, Kit declares that Julia needs her pajamas and chases her into her bedroom.

You glance over to Alma and take a deep breath. “Alma, can I…talk to you about something kinda personal?” Alma looks at you and smiles, glancing to make sure Kit’s getting Julia in the bath before nodding and leading you out to the front porch.

The Walker porch has always been one of your favorite places to be. There’s lights strung up overhead the comfy patio seating, and it gives a perfect view of the quiet little street they live on. You sit on the outside couch, Alma taking a seat next to you.

“What’s up?”

“I…” It takes you a moment to figure out what to say. Everytime you think you know, you suddenly feel that it’s not right. Alma waits patiently for you to find your words. “How did you know that you were in love with Kit? That Kit was the one?”

She laughs, the sound as light as the wind chimes gently blowing in the breeze. “So that’s what’s had you all out of sorts! I knew there was something bothering you.”

“You did?”

“Of course. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re off.” Have you really been that transparent? Before you can continue to spiral, Alma says, “So what’s his name? Or her name? I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“His name is Michael.” Just speaking his name makes your heart stutter, as if he’ll finally appear now that you’ve called for him.

“Hmm, and you think that you might love Michael?”

“It’s so complicated. I actually thought I hated him at first.”

Alma barks out a laugh. “Would you believe me if I told you I thought I hated Kit at first?”

“You did?” You look at her with wide eyes.

“Yep. I thought that he was a jerk and not worth my time. Even when he was driving me to work every day and sending me sweet good night texts, I still tried to hate him.”

“Wow, they had texting back in the olden days?” you tease. Kit and Alma are maybe ten years older than you, but you enjoy making them feel extra old when you can.

She points a threatening finger at you while trying to bite back a grin. “I can stop being so helpful, if that’s really what you want.”

“No! I’m sorry.”

“That’s what I thought. Think before the next time you try to diss the Motorola Razr.”

Once your laughing has finally died off, you get serious again. “So what changed?”

“Well, to be honest with you, it wasn’t really any one thing. There was just one day where I looked at him and…I didn’t want to do anything without him by my side.”

One of the many things that you love about Alma? She doesn’t push you to talk before you’re ready. She again sits patiently and waits as you mull over her words. Though you want to think that what she’s said doesn’t apply to you and your situation, you can already tell that it does. How many times since you returned from the Underworld have you found yourself wishing that Michael was with you? Even when completing the most mundane tasks, like driving or reading, you wish you had Michael’s hand in yours, his smooth voice in your ear and his overwhelming passion making you flustered.

“Can I say something?” Alma asks.

“Duh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“You know the answer that you’re looking for, even if you don’t want to admit it. Besides, if you’re not sure, I tend to believe that the universe, or fate, or whatever you want to call it, has a way of making sure that what’s meant to happen will happen. If you and Michael truly do love each other, things will fall into place.”

“You really think so?”

“It worked for me and Kit.” Alma glances into the living room window, where Kit sits combing Julia’s hair on the couch. Kit must sense that he’s being watched, because he looks up suddenly and waves at Alma, Julia joining him with a grin and blowing kisses. You’re no expert, but you would say it’s definitely worked out for the Walkers.

You know what you have to do now, though you’re not sure if it will work. Still, for every doubt that you have, Alma’s voice telling you that it will all work out rings in your head. Sitting in the living room of your apartment after you get home from the Walkers, those words are the only thing giving you any sort of confidence right now. Which…isn’t much, if you’re being honest. Who’s to say if this will work for a second time? And if it does work, why would he want to speak to you after what happened?

Still, it’s the only plan that you’ve got, and you’d be remiss to not try it. Not after the conversation you had with Alma, and not after the weeks that you’ve spent missing him. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath before saying the words that have played through your mind a hundred times by now.

“I wish the Demon King would take me away.”

You wait a long moment for something to happen, and then another one. Finally, you open your eyes again, only to see that everything is exactly the same. It’s hard to hide your disappointment, but you try your best. You really shouldn’t have expected that he would actually show up after what happened the last time you saw him, or that this would even work. Still, you allowed yourself to get your hopes up, which was your own fault.

You try to sniff back the angry tears that are brimming, but it’s proving a difficult task. Not only are you sad that nothing happened, but you feel stupid for sitting here and thinking that saying a few magic words would summon him. You need to leave, preferably by driving around and screaming to sad breakup music while eating fries. After grabbing your keys from the table, you flip the living room light off. Something stops you as you’re putting your shoes on, a presence that sends shivers down your spine.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long, Precious.”

That voice. You would know that lyrical voice anywhere. Is it too good to be true? Are you hallucinating? Your hand fumbles along the wall until you find the light switch. Finally, you flip the light on, and when you do, you can barely gasp out, “Michael.”

It’s him. Now you’re sure that you’re hallucinating, the most beautiful hallucinations anyone could ever come up with. But no, he’s all too real, and he’s right in front of you. Michael’s dressed just as ostentatiously as always, wearing the same gaudy starry cloak that he wore the night this all began and trailing glitter on your living room floor. He tries to smirk at you, but it’s impossible for him to not smile right now. You feel the same, especially when you throw yourself into his arms.

He reciprocates your hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He holds onto you as if he’s worried you’ll disappear into thin air, with you holding onto him in the same way. There are so many things that you want to say to him, but he speaks before you do.

“Dearest, I have missed you so.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say through the tears that are clouding both your eyes and your voice, “for everything. I never should have–”

“I do believe it is I who should be apologizing to you.” Michael takes your face in his hands, looking so sweetly down at you that you almost can’t stand it as he uses his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “I will admit that kidnapping your charge and forcing you to run a labyrinth to rescue said charge was not the best plan when I decided that I wanted to woo you.”

“A simple ‘hey’ probably would have been enough for me,” you say with a laugh. “Still, I shouldn’t have said the things that I did.”

“You had to, it was the only way. My smart, brave Y/n, I was no match for you.”

Michael kisses you (finally), and you have to say that this is the best one yet. There’s no deceit or goodbyes hidden within it, nothing you’re both trying to convey. There’s simply love. “Why didn’t you come for me? You’re the one with the magic powers.”

“Did you learn nothing about what the things you say can do while you were on your run? Words have power, and I had no power over you the moment you said those very words. You had to be the one to decide to let me in again.”

You smirk. “So, I was more powerful than the almighty Demon King, huh?”

Michael rolls his eyes, but nods nonetheless. “Yes, you were. But even though I could not come for you, I watched over you.”

“So all the times I thought that I had seen you?”

“Yes. Not physically, but I was there. Sometimes the veil between us just became a little thinner.”

The flash of a blond man walking on the sidewalk, you realize. It was him, for a brief moment. You smile shakily, the revelation bringing on a new round of tears, and kiss him again. “I knew it.”

“Now that you know just what your words can do…” You really don’t think Michael’s smile will ever get any less breathtaking. “Say it, won’t you?”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling like teasing him. “Say what?”

“You know what I want you to say.”

Of course you do. They’re the reason that you called him here in the first place, the words that Alma helped give you the courage to recognize. They’ve likely been teetering on the tip of your tongue since you faced off against him in that deserted ballroom, when he was promising you the world if only you would stay with him.

It’s impossible to pull away from him and properly face him, like you would like to do when telling him this for the first time. It’s as if the two of you are magnets of opposite polarities, and now that you’ve connected once again, you won’t separate easily. Instead, you look up at his blue eyes, your lips still a mere inch apart from his.

“I love you, Michael.”

Though the answer of whether or not you loved Michael eluded you for so long, saying it feels as natural as blinking. It’s barely louder than a whisper when you speak, the sound of your heart thumping in your ears nearly drowning yourself out. Michael hears it loud and clear, though, just as loud and clear as you hear his excited gasp. “I love you, my darling.”

“It’s a relief that your feelings haven’t changed since the last time you told me that you loved me.” Humor’s usually a pretty bad coping mechanism, but Michael seems to enjoy it.

“I promise you that my feelings will never change. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now. On that note,” from within his cloak, Michael pulls out a pocket watch with thirteen hours on it instead of twelve. “Are you ready to go home?”

“That depends.”

He looks at you in surprise. “On what?”

“Well, am I going to be your prisoner? Are you keeping me trapped in your labyrinth if I go with you?”

“You think so little of me, Y/n. You shall be my queen and my equal, free to come and go as you please.”

“Wait, say that again? What am I going to be?”

He looks at you in confusion. “My queen and my equal?”

You wink at him. “And don’t you forget it.”

Michael huffs, but you can sense the endearment behind the action. You’re sure that everything that you say and do regarding or towards Michael from now on will be tinged with endearment. Oh no, you’re going to turn into those sappy, lovesick couples you’ve hated, aren’t you? Well, you suppose that there’s no other person to be half of that lovesick couple equation with than Michael.

A crystal appears in one of Michael’s hands, while in the other he takes yours. A strong feeling of deja vu comes over you at this, but luckily you’re not in nearly as fearful a situation as you were the first time this happened. Now, you can enjoy the crystal and the way the light refracts into rainbows off of its surface. Michael tosses it up in the air, and you watch dizzily as it spins into a blur of color before popping as gently as a bubble to reveal a landscape you’re now familiar with: the gardens on the grounds of his castle, the same ones that he chased you through in that beautiful dream he gave you. There’s nothing sinister about it now, not when the moonlight is shining over the dewy foliage and various animals are calling to each other.

Michael glances at you, as if he’s checking to make sure that you’re not going to change your mind. You nod to confirm that there’s no getting rid of you now, and he kisses you. He turns to face you, grabbing your other hand so that he can properly lead you into the Underworld. Into your home.

“Shall we?”

///

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