#he's a ginger tabby and like. I always dreamed of having a ginger tabby...

[rosenfey]

mom just forwarded me a post about a stray kibby looking for a home. I have a home.. it fits

#ambie.txt #I saw him and I fell in love immediately #I still miss wanda and I always will and it still hurts so badly I cry every day #she was also a rescue and everyone keeps saying I can honor her by sending the love forward #and I always said I wanna adopt a stray cat only #and he looks like an absolute angel... #he's a ginger tabby and like. I always dreamed of having a ginger tabby... #I could name him pumpkin...

[gallusrostromegalus]

the 'Kon :)' in the list of things you're pleased about in aeiwam has be EXCITED please tell us more (if you want to)!

Soon after Masaki died, Isshin Kurosaki moved his family. It's mostly because the original clinic didn't feel haunted- if Masaki's spirit were still here, Isshin would know what to do, but instead he felt like his heels were dogged by the hole where she used to be.

It didn't hurt that the new place was larger, in a better school district, and closer to his friend Ryukken. He's almost feeling cheerful about the new place when Ichigo runs up the stairs and from room to room before calling dibs on one, because he's a big kid now and doesn't want to sleep where he has to listen to his dad snoring all night >:(.

Isshin felt slightly less cheerful when he looked out the big window in Ichigo's room to determine if he needs to put up some child safety grates, and realized their new neighbor was a taxidermist.

"I feel like it gives them a sort of dignity- A Life After Life, if you will." she said when he went by to make sure his neighbor was only eccentric and not something out of a horror movie. He wasn't entirely sure which, actually- Ms. Tanaka was an octogenarian with skin like tissue paper and a back like a question mark, but her living room was a veritable zoo of reconstituted animals, many of them former pets, if the number of domestic cats was anything to go by.

"Oh. Yeah!" Isshin grinned, terrified, and was struck by the idea of some goon in the 12th division slavering in the afterlife, desperate for her to shuffle off the mortal coil and bring her undoubted skills with dead bodies to R&D. "We've always been very spiritual people."

(Continued under the readmore)

"Oh, just like the nice young man who used to live in your house!" said Ms. Tanaka, sitting down in her armchair that was adorned by an ostentatious past-tense peacock perched on the back. "Odd fellow. Worked nights, spoke like he was born in the Sengoku Era or something, but very nice."

"He's BEAUTIFUL!" said Ichigo, staring in awe at an enormous Ginger Tabby Cat by the window, mounted in repose on a emerald velvet cat bed. Ms. Tanaka had done an excellent job conveying a sense of benevolent egotism on his whiskered face, but Ichigo's growing fascination with the Macabre was beginning to worry his father- Ichigo had seen the taxidermy stoat in the back window and INSISTED on coming along.

"Isn't he?" beamed Ms. Tanaka. "His name is Bostov! He was my very best friend for many years."

"Wow! Can I pet him?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide with delight.

"Ichigo, that's uh- that's not a real kitty-" Isshin began to sputter.

"Of course he's a real kitty!" Ms. Tanaka laughed, a noise like an ungreased gate. "You can pet him if you're very gentle." Ichigo stroked the deceased animal with exceptional delicacy for an overexcited Kindergartner. "He's so soft!" he gasped.

"Do you like him?" asked Ms. Tanaka.

"I LOVE HIM!" Said Ichigo, cheeks flushed and eyes bright for the first time in months now. Perhaps having a distant relative of the Addams family for a neighbor isn't so bad, if her creepy hobby cheers Ichigo up... Isshin sighed.

"In that case, why don't you take him home with you?" Smiled Ms. Tanaka. "I'm sure he'll be a good friend to you too."

"UH." Isshin blurted out, nearly spilling his tea on a flock of quail under the side-table.

"I have SO MANY friends in my home with me- it's bordering on a fire hazard!" Ms. Tanaka chuckled. "I'd be delighted to send him to a home where he'll be loved. Please- consider him my housewarming present!"

"CAN WE? CAN WE TAKE HIM HOME? PLEASE DAD??PLEEEEEEEASE-!!" Ichigo asked, stars in his eyes.

Isshin froze, horrified at the prospect of having... That. In his house. Watching him. ...and at the same time, completely unwilling to dash his little boy's dreams.

"yEaH oKaY." Isshin grimaced, soaked in a cold sweat.

*****

Bostov The Former Cat was bad enough, but at least the taxidermy beast 'lived' on Ichigo's bedroom dresser and not down in the living room where Isshin would have to look at it's green glass eyes, which seemed to follow him around the room. It wasn't right having a hollow thing in the house like that- any wandering spirit could decide to climb in there! He resolved to have it warded, but Kisuke said he was on a trip to the Caribbean for "Botanical Research" , and wouldn't be back until "After the Big Holiday on the 20th". Isshin hung up the phone, groaned and rubbed his face. It was fairly late, and he was still at the kitchen table, going through all of the licensing paperwork to get the clinic up and running.

"Hey Dad?" Ichigo asked, holding up a small plastic toy. "What's 'Soul Candy'?"

"Soul Cand-?" Isshin frowned, turned to look at the toy and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping it away from the boy. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS? DID YOU EAT ANY??"

"...it was upstairs, in the back of my closet." Ichigo pouted. "-and no, I didn't eat any strange closet candy. I'm not stupid."

"Oh thank the Gods..." Isshin sighed, sitting back down at the table and shaking the small, duck-headed pill dispenser. Empty. "-I'm sorry I yelled Ichigo, but this is Very Dangerous stuff."

Ichigo arched an incredulous Eyebrow at him. "Really? Is this the same kind of dangerous that the half my Halloween candy you confiscated and ate was?"

"Ah- well. No. That was Dad Tax. This is actually dangerous. Here, come sit with me a minute." he pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table. "Remember how I told you about the ghost that lived in my attic when I was your age?"

"The Shinigami?" Ichigo asked.

Isshin did not *enjoy* lying to his children, but a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and not enough even more so, so he'd concocted a little fantasy to explain why he knew all about ghosts and why the children never saw their grandparents, so he could tell them about the dangers of this world without telling them too much.

"That's right- His name was Kaien Shiba, and he was a Soul Reaper. At night, he'd turn into a ghost and leave his body behind, and go escort spirits to the afterlife or fight hollows." Isshin said. he'd named the fictional soul reaper after his favorite nephew in a fit of inspiration- he'd started telling Ichigo a tale from his days as a Shinigami one night after slightly too many drinks and had to convince Ichigo that that was only a distant acquaintance.

"...Like what killed Mom." Ichigo muttered.

"Um. Yeah." Isshin nodded.

They were silent for a moment.

"-Anyway, the way he turned into a ghost was that he'd swallow one of these little candies that would come in these tubes-" Isshin pulled the duck's head back to show Ichigo the mechanism. "-and Poof! he'd jump out of his body as a ghost so he could use magic to save people! But-there was a little soul inside the candy that would come out and take care of his body while he was away! Like a babysitter, but for his own butt! After a few hours, the little soul would stop working, and Kain would be home to climb back in."

Ichigo blinked at the mechanism, thinking. "So. There's a little person in these candies?"

"If there were any in here, yeah." Said Isshin. "They're not like. Whole people. Just little collages of behaviors and phrases. You know, like the fake voice that talks on the phone when you call to refill a prescription!" Ichigo frowned, considering something. "...There weren't any candies in this thing, were there?" Isshin asked, suspicious.

"No." Said Ichigo, frowning at him. "It'd be really lonely, being just a little soul, stuck in a candy, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"I suppose so, but I don't think the little souls are aware while they're in there. It's like being asleep for them." Isshin shrugged, lying to himself as much as his son about that.

Ichigo still frowned. "...What happens if the candy goes into a body without a soul in it? Like a dead body?" "Huh." Isshin frowned. "I dunno, actually. I guess the little soul would run around and operate it for a while, until it faded out, like it did with a normal body?"

Ichigo nodded, still preoccupied.

"Why?" Isshin tried.

"...No reason." Ichigo muttered, kicking his little feet. "Just thinking."

"Alright. Promise me if you find anything else weird or see any random candies to not touch them and tell me right away, okay?"

"Yeah okay." Ichigo nodded, only sort of paying attention. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night dad." he muttered, getting up from the table and handing the dispenser to Isshin before giving him a quick hug and stomping up the stairs.

Isshin watched him go, aching a bit. I wondered how old he was gonna be when he started keeping secrets from me. He sighed, looking down at the Soul Candy Dispenser. Not that I'm being a Paragon of Honesty for him to follow...

---

"GIRLS? ICHIGO? HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN MY STETHOSCOPE?" Isshin hollered, searching fruitlessly under the couch cushions.

"NO!" Hollered Karin from where she and Yuzu were playing in the small front yard.

"TRY ICHIGO'S ROOM, HE TOOK A BUNCH OF LAUNDRY UP TO SORT." called Yuzu.

"THANKS GIRLS!" he called back stomping up the stairs. Ichigo was at karate- he'd finally returned to classes, or at least, Tatsuki had finally physically dragged him back into the Dojo. "Man I hope I didn't put it through the washing machine-" he muttered, opening the door to the boy's room and started searching through the basket of laundry on his bed.

Isshin stopped, and stood up, frowning around the room. Something was off.

Ichigo was a tidy boy, somehow, and his room was usually in order save for whatever video game he had out to play and the bed he never made but... Isshin turned fully around trying to figure out what was off before his eyes finally landed on the top of the Dresser.

The Emerald Green Velvet Cat bed, home of Bostov The Cat, was empty.

"Did he take the cat out of the bed to play with?" Isshin wondered aloud, hoping that that, and not several other horrible scenarios, was what was happening. He could hear Karin and Yuzu giggling through the window, and he peeked down at them- they appeared to be having a tea party on the thin strip of grass, and the guest of honor amongst the dolls and stuffed animals was a familiar-looking ginger tabby. "Oh! The GIRLS took him out to play with." he sighed with relief, leaning against the window to watch them.

...and watch a strange man approaching down the street, who stopped at the garden fence. Isshin frowned- maybe he was just watching the girls play, in a normal, wholesome way like he was doing right now. ...or he could be taking candy out of his pocket and waving the girls to come through the gate.

Isshin jumped on the bed, tore open the window with such force it jumoed out of it's track and was halfway out to jump down at the man from the second floor when the most EXTRAORDINARY thing happened.

Bostov, Who by all accounts had been deceased for the better part of a decade and was made of little more than a skin and some glass stretched over a wood-and-cotton frame, Suddenly leapt up from his chair, claws and teeth drawn like swords and leapt upon the man, battering him visciously with a stream of einvective so foul it made Isshin's barrack-hardened linguistic sensibilities blush, before chasing him back down the street like a short, furious, ass-seeking missile.

"GIRLS!" he shouted, jumping down anyway. "-ARE YOU OKAY?"

"DON'T GET MAD AT ICHIGO OR KON!!" Shouted Yuzu, tears in her eyes.

"...ichigo or who?" Isshin blinked.

"Way to spill the beans, Yuzu." Karin groaned. "Yeah Dad, we're FINE- Kon was here, he'll beat the crap out of anything."

"Who's Kon?" Isshin repeated.

"HEY DAD." Shouted Ichigo, skidding into the garden in his karate gi, and out of breath, clutching an unconvincingly stiff Mr. Bostov under his arm. "SO. UH- WELL MR. BOSTOV CAN MOVE NOW. FOR SOME REASON."

"Uh-huh?" Isshin glared at the cat, who glanced away nervously. "Why do you think that is?"

"...it's a Christmas Miracle?" Tried Ichigo.

"Ichigo, it's fucking April." groaned Karin.

"...Passover?" tried Ichigo.

"-This wouldn't have anything to do with that Soul Candy Dispenser you found, would it?"

"uhhhhhhh..." said Ichigo. Honesty might not have been one of the boy's virtues, but at least he was a terrible liar.

"PLEASE DADDY DON'T GET ANGRY!!" Sobbed Yuzu, throwing herself around his calf and wailing. "MR. KON IS THE MOST NICEST KITTY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! HE PLAYS TEA TIME AND DRESS-UP WITH US AND TELLS JOKES AND CHASES AWAY DOGS AND SCARY MEN AND HE ALWAYS WAKES UP ICHIGO WHEN HE'S HAVING A NIGHTMARE-!"

"Yeah, actually, Kon's like. the first thing to make me laugh since. Well." Mumbled Karin, plodding over to Isshin's other leg and leaning heavily on him. "Please? he's weird, but he's a good guy."

Isshin sighed, then glared back down at the cat. "Alright. Who are you?" he demanded.

Ichigo and the formerly immobile cat glanced at each other and the feline unfolded as Ichigo set him down, shaking himself out and sitting on the walkway.

"So, uh- Hi. My name's Kon. Kon Bostov, if you wanna be formal, in honor of the beast whose body I currently inhabit." He nodded, waving a paw evocatively. "-And, uh. Well, how much do you know about the afterlife?"

"-Being from a long line of psychic mediums and prone to hauntings, my parents rented out our attic to a Shinigami when I was a child, and he told me pretty much everything." Said Isshin, and Kon winced. "So. Is 'Kon' short for 'Mod Konpaku'?"

"Ehh... well, Yeah." Kon winced. "-But hey! It wasn't my idea to be cooked up in a lab by some maniac and then put to death minutes later for something I didn't even do!" he snarled, fur bristling.

"What?" asked Karin.

"Kids I- Look, I didn't mean to lie, there just wasn't a good time to bring it up but. Technically, I'm wanted by the law. I'm an artificial soul created for battle to be put into dead bodies, but literally four and a half minutes after I woke up, the soul society- where all the Shinigami are from- condemned me to die, because they didn't like how strong some of the other Mod Souls were. I managed to roll myself off of the table and into a box of normal bodyminders to hide, Got put in a dispenser and then the shinigami that had been here accidentally left me behind." Kon explained.

"COOL!" Shouted Karin.

"NOT COOL. BAD!" Shouted Isshin. "Okay, okay I- I mean you're right, I never- I mean, the way Kaien told it, the whole Mod Soul program was pretty shady and it sounded really unfair. But why would a Shinigami just leave an important and dangerous tool lying around?"

"...I don't know how much spiritual sense you have my guy, but this town doesn't have a Hollow problem so much as the Hollowpocalylse goin' on." Kon grimaced. "-I really hope that guy's okay, he seemed pretty cool from what I could tell. I don't actually remember hearing him get called back to soul society." Kon muttered. "-Anyway, about three weeks ago, your brother found me in the dispenser in the back of his closet and put my candy body into this taxidermy cat, and I've been hanging out with the kids since then! You know, like a cat is supposed to do!"

Isshin stared blankly at Kon. The girls hugged his legs, lips wobbling, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, firming up his resolve- no matter how nice he seemed, a Mod Soul was a dangerous thing- and one crafty enough to live right under his nose for the better part of a month? No, absolutely n-

Isshin opened his eyes to see Ichigo had picked up Kon, cradling the cat to his tiny body, eyes wide and beginning to glisten with tears.

"...Ah. What the hell. You make the kids laugh." Isshin sighed, and all four cheered, thanking him profusely and promising to be extra-good and take good care of Kon- "But you put so much as a Whisker out of line and you're in deep trouble, got it?" Isshin leaned into the cat's face, scowling menacingly and shaking his finger at Kon.

"Understood sir!" Kon Saluted. "So when's dinner? Ichigo's been sneaking me scraps but I could really go for some chicken, or maybe ham-" he asked, tail thrashing excitedly.

"You can eat?" Isshin asked. "I thought you were all... Whatever they stuff taxidermy animals with?"

"-Might've been, but I'm all complete now? Fluff, guts, claws-the works!" Kon shrugged, hopping up on Isshin's shoulder. "-Between you an' me, I ain't even neutered! But that ain't a problem- Plenty of hot pussy around, if you know what I mean, especially that sweet little tuxedo bobtail just up the street- Me-YOW, huh?"

"Oh gods." Groaned Isshin, covering his face. "What am I letting into my house?"

"An intact male cat is called a 'Tom' Dad." Karin called over her shoulder.

"Alright Kon, a few rules- No more swearing in front of the kids, no bringing ladies around the house and for goodness sake DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE HERE!" Isshin snarled at him.

"Alright, alright!" Kon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Out of curiosity though- What rank was your guy Kaien?"

"Hm?" Isshin asked.

"Only that I thought only the captains and a few lieutenants ever knew about project Spearhead." Kon glanced at Isshin, arching an orange-striped brow at him. "-funny thing, having a seated officer doing routine patrols, isn't it?"

"I dunno?" Shrugged Isshin, trying to keep his shoulders from tensing up, "-He didn't actually tell me all that much about how the soul society is governed."

"Huh." Kon nodded, smirking just a bit. "Interestin' guy, this Kaien. You should tell me about him sometime!"

"KOOOOONN!" Yuzu called. "My Dollie's shoe got under the fridge!"

"Coming Sweetie!" Kon called, jumping off Isshin's shoulder to reach his skinny little cat arm under the fridge and swat the missing accessory out from under the appliance. Yuzu applauded with delight and hugged him, laughing for the first time in ages.

Isshin watched them play for a bit and sighed. He not a bad guy, this Kon. All the same- Isshin took out his phone and dialed a number.

"~Urahara Shoten, home of Karkura Town's finest Candies, Cell Phones and Card Games! I'm on sabbatical 'til the end of the month or so, so if it's an emergency, hang up and call the Kurosaki Clinic! Or die! If it's not an emergency, leave me a message with what you need and I'll hook you up when I get back! Bye!~" Urahara's voicemail recording sing-sang over the line.

"Kisuke. It's me, Isshin. You will not fucking believe what my kids found in the new house. Call me as soon as you get back."

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #Isshin Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki #Kisuke Urahara #Kon

[mistyresolve]

| Talking To The Void - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Edited)

Word count - 2k

Summary - While Simon is away on missions, it’s hard on everyone. Especially his significant other. So he’s discovered a loophole, the only issue is that it has its downfalls. 

Warning/Tags - mentions of the dirty, 

A/N - this is something short to introduce my version of Simon “Ghost” Riley. i like the idea that both Simon Riley and Ghost in a sense are the same person with the same goals and values but he has defined separation between the two.

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

It no longer came as a shock when you didn’t hear from Simon for weeks on end when he was away on missions. You understood the reasoning behind the strict no contact rule; gave him grace because the cards were never in his hands. With him having to fly under the radar, and lower still, he had to vanish from the living world. You being a part of the living world involved vanishing from you too. Sometimes it was the fact that he just never had the time or means to make a phone call. Even still, the normalcy of it never quelled the anxiety and fear that plagued you—it followed you around like a predator stalking its prey. It lurked in the shadows and breathed down your neck when your back was turned. It followed you into your dreams, forcing you to awake in a panic and drenched in sweat. 

You had absolute, unequivocal faith in him to come back to you. He always did. But the silence that replaced his presence was always filled with overthinking and rumination. 

You tried your best to distract yourself. Sometimes with work of your own, staying later than the janitors, and when you drove home the streets and highways were desolate. You also spent a considerable amount of time at your parents' place, eating your mothers home cooked meals while you chatted about the new family gossip. You used to stay the weekend at her house because coming back home to an empty house was sometimes too much. A chilling reminder of what you were trying to forget. The nights that you did spend in your bed you slept in his clothes and on his side of the bed. Anything to get a little closer to him. Anything to trick yourself into thinking he was still there.  

You never held it against Simon though. It took you the first five missions he was ordered onto to finally come to terms with the unusual lifestyle. Each time he returned he brought with him an immense amount of guilt. A guilt that ran so deep even you couldn’t soothe. He did everything he could on his end to find alternative ways to support you through his absence. When he found out about the occasional sleepovers at your parent's house, he brought you to an SPCA to adopt whatever animal of your choosing. Something to bring warmth and life into the home in his stead. Simon wasn’t the least bit surprised when you picked the sassy tabby cat with one eye named Ginger Spice. 

The other alternative was phone calls. Always from a burner phone. Always an unknown number. Always silent on the other end. 

Every time your phone rang and you picked it up, there was always a deflation when a phone number or name was attached to it. 

That wasn’t the case this time. You fumbled and shook as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call. Hesitating before you open your mouth, the word scared it would be returned, “Hello?” you closed your eyes, hoping, praying, pleading, that the caller didn’t reply. 

When you were met with nothing, heard nothing, the half sob half sigh of relief that you let out was heartbreaking. Even Simon on the other end of the line had to lean his head against the wall for support, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I miss you,” the words are laced with grief and torment, “I miss you so much it hurts.”

Ginger Spice who was previously lounging on the divan across from you perked up at the sound of your teary voice. He let out a curious trill as he leapt off the seat, pranced to your spot on the couch, and jumped into your lap; making a few laps back and forth before settling in between your legs. The tabby cat was providing the support that Simon was striving for. Simon silently thanked the cat.  

“Ginger came to say ‘Hi’,” You laughed through the tears, your vision momentarily going blurry. You wiped furiously at your eyes. You didn’t want to waste this stolen time on crying. 

The first time he made one of these calls and you had hung up on him not realizing who it was. When he returned, he very bashfully confessed to you that it was him. You had given him endless apologies, absolutely mortified. He had laughed and pressed kisses into your hair, telling you it was okay and he expected that that would be the most probable outcome. 

You didn’t know how long you had with him before the line would be severed and you’d be left wondering. Your fingers were kept busy by tracing the pattern on Ginger Spices markings, who immediately erupted with purrs in response. 

“I don’t know if you hear him, but he’s purring,” you relayed, a soft smile dancing on your mouth. 

Simon could, very faintly, and only when you spoke. The sound floated in the background of your words. A smile of his own formed under the mask. The moment was shared from thousands and thousands of miles away, and yet in the same room. 

“He misses you too,” and the cat did, you would occasionally find him curled in the sheet on Simon's side of the bed. Other times he was sitting on the bench next to the door, waiting for his dad to enter, “Sometimes he takes it out on me. Which, by the way, I don’t deserve, and you’ll have to make up for that when you get back” also a true statement. Ginger Spice had developed a horrible habit of ignoring you and giving you blatant attitude. Just this morning when you filled his food bowl he meowed at you until you sat at the island and drank your tea. All because Simon would get up at buttcrack dawn, feed the cat, and drink tea while he read over reports and documents while he waited for you to start to wake up so he could climb back into the sheets and be there when you open your eyes. 

“And that brings me to the next point of discussion. Your mother-in-law wants you to help move the couch in the basement to the garage so she can sell it. Dad wants to turn it into some sort of lounge, den, bar, thingy,” you waved your hand in dismissal despite the fact that he couldn’t see the action. 

He might not have been able to see, but if he closed his eyes and listened, he could imagine you. Knowing your mannerisms and idiosyncrasies as if they were his own. Every moment he spent with you he filed away and studied. A talent that also came in handy when it came to those lonely nights away from you. Visualizing his hand was yours. Smaller and softer. Gentle and caring. A fact that he had no qualms telling you about, or explaining to you in great detail. And he was very good at explaining, and it usually led you to enact his visualizations. All so he can “confirm his creativity was close to the real thing”. He is very tongue-in-cheek about it too.  

“She wants me to help her paint and redecorate. But I’m having a hard time thinking up a theme so you’ll have to help me out,” and he would, he was good at helping you organize your thoughts and ideas. He enjoyed any task that was thrown at him, taking them head-on and with fervent no matter how pointless it was. He claimed it kept him limber. He liked being needed and valued. He especially liked it when you praised his ideas. 

He listened contently as you talked to him about everything you could. What you had for lunch, the book you recently finished, the hairball you had to clean up, the “bitch two offices down”. He would have to bite the inside of his cheek and focus on controlling and steadying his breaths to keep from laughing. He loved how your voice dropped to a whisper when you got to the nitty gritty of the gossip. As if you were sitting at the back of a coffee shop with him, and talking about people as they sat right in front of you. He’d never admit it, but he lived for the drama. Thrived off it. But only if it came from you.

You filled him in on the drama, removing names and identifiers in the rare case that someone was listening in. The same reason you wouldn’t say his name or call sign. The same reason he couldn’t talk.

He never voiced it to you for the fear that if he spoke it out loud it would come true, but the possibility of something happening to you because he got too comfortable in his anonymity, scared the shit out of him. An issue he never had to deal with before you. He always kept his identity close to his chest but his seriousness about it only increased by a tenth-fold when you crept into his life. It was not only his life on the line but yours too now. He was doing everything he could to protect you. To make sure you remained an enigma to his enemies. To which he had a lot of. A lot of them would have no issues using you to get to him, and all of them would kill for that kind of opportunity. He also wanted to give you some ounce of normality when he returned, and he didn’t have to conceal his identity. Where he could take you out, and show you off without the fear that someone will recognize him. His only regret was that he could only give that to you for half the time.

He sometimes wished he could burn the world just so he could get some peace with you. He wished he could put you in a jar and carry you with him everywhere he went. That’s all they were though, wishes and selfish daydreams. 

Right now, he was sitting in the stairwell of an apartment building. He and Price were monitoring a target, building a routine for them. They were stationed on the roof of said apartment with snipers. He had switched off the main shift with Price about six hours ago. He spent those six hours getting sleep and food, before making the phone call. A phone call Price had no idea he was making. A phone call to someone, not even Price knew existed. He would rejoin Price after the call to help with comms and to give him some company. Lord knew Simon knew staring into a scope at someone watch TV and order room service for a 12 hour shift was deathly boring. Not that he’d ever complain. It allowed him time to sit with his thoughts. He would probably do a couple of rounds around the area too. Secure their exits and entrances. 

You loosed a sigh, suddenly sad again, “I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”

He looked at the timer on the phone screen: 1:23:09. 

It hadn’t felt that long. And it sure as hell didn’t feel long enough.  

“Come home to me soon, please,” the earnestness in your voice was palpable. He could almost taste it on his tongue. The twisted heart in his chest felt like it dropped a couple of inches, and a zip of pain shot down his arm.  

“I love you,” you whispered so sweetly he thought he’d get a sugar high from it. That or the blood was leaving his brain and travelling south. You left enough time after you said it that if he could respond he would have enough time. Then reluctantly hung up. 

He tapped the phone in the palm of his hand, pulling his mind back into his body. Switching back to Ghost he rolled his shoulders, shaking off any remaining unwanted thoughts and feelings. 

He dismantled the phone, removing the battery, the sim, the camera, the screen. Everything. He would toss the individual parts in different locations as he did his patrols. He’d be damn thorough. The sim card he would burn. He would destroy any evidence and connection to Simon Riley. 

Masterlist  ❤︎

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod x y/n #cod x reader #simon riley #simon riley imagine #MistyGhosties

[fauxraven]

The Time Paradigm [VI]

pairing: Dream of the Endless x fem!reader

summary: the death of a Dream, the anguish of another

warnings: gore, Dream’s endless (but hot af) anger, character death

word count: 2.9k+

Enter the Dream, weary traveller

Chapter VI: Mutually assured salvation

GaiaPrime-57, Londinium, Half the Lifetime of the Universe,

A window snaps shut.

A droplet drops.

A zipper zips shut.

Zips open.

Chipping nail polish cracks further with every slide of the zip. Zip up; zip down. Zip up; zip down.

The suitcase slams on the floorboards. A frustrated groan leaves the chipping nail polish.

‘’Yes. Yes, I understand that too, Mr. Harris.’’ Up and down and up and down again until it jams. The phone gives a groan under cheap nail polish and exhausted fingers. ‘’Pedro, come—hop on my suitcase.’’

The curly head of a child pops around a corner; small, for his age, smallest of his class, in every aspect. He holds a soft toy that’s half bunny half elephant and about 5% extinct species. He hops on the suitcase silently.

‘’No, obviously, I don’t expect you to hop on my suitcase, Mr. Harris.’’ The zipper draws back, jams again. ‘’Pedro? Remember the Chuck E. Cheese ball pit?’’

The child throws himself onto the suitcase. The zipper is still stuck.

‘’Yes, I know. But the lease said—just one really. Yes, the other intends to stay. I don’t know, a few months. Yes, just me. She’ll stay. Yes—yes! Perfect, thank you, so much!’’ The phone drops on a red faux suede beanbag. ‘’Kid, this isn’t working.’’

‘’It was zipping a bit funny when Aunty Anna tried it too.’’

‘’Anna was within a file-mile radius of my suitcase?’’

The half-elephant half-unicorn dips a head of a cotton into a nod. She pulls him up and throws the suitcase open.

‘’You have got to be kidding me!’’

A pink garment falls to the floor. Followed by a white veil and a cable knit stitch the colour of ebony. Footfalls draw closer with every piece she plucks from the intestines of the suitcase.

‘’Pizza’s ordered. What? You said healthy; veg—what the bloody hell are you doing?’’

‘’You tell me. What part of ‘going there for work’ do you not understand?’’

‘’I understood perfectly! Blimey, I even packed you nice professional clothes.’’

‘’Lingerie? That’s what you call professional?’’

‘’Pleasure and business. Precisely in that order,’’ a lacy thong drops, adding to the growing pile forming on the floor. The child has gone away, thankfully. ‘’What if you meet a hot and loaded British bugger? What then? You’ll be glad I packed the essentials, that’s what.’’

‘’It’s a job in a quiet countryside house; the closest village is eight miles. The only guy I’ll see is pushing ninety and I’ll spend my days wheeling him around—passionately.’’

‘’Just loaded then?’’

‘’Business. I’m going there for business. I’m not like you, Jo. Hell, how many did you—okay, who needs this many thongs?’’

‘’That one’s a stray, actually.’’

On cue, the top layer of the unholy pile shifts into a ginger Tabby cat.

‘’Tell me you did not keep that thing.’’ Johanna snags in a beanbag, hissing at the cat when it tries snuggling up against her leg. She plucks a magazine from the coffee table and starts thumbing through gibberish. She isn’t really paying attention to the words; she isn’t paying attention to anything.

‘’I let you keep the kid!’’ The woman fires back, sitting on her haunches.

‘’Kids aren’t strays, love. Besides, this one’s just using ya for food and free snuggles, hope you know that.’’

‘’Since you’re missing the point, I’ll just cut to the chase—where did you find a whole kid? Where are his parents?’’

Johanna spares her a coy look over the magazine. ‘’Don’t you mean when are his parents?’’

‘’No, I really just mean where are his parents, the people who are supposed to care for him and report him missing should you decide to keep him any longer than you already have.’’

Johanna opens her mouth, tongue fit with a quick retort, but a zipper zips shut and a bell tolls; and life goes on. Without her. Always without her. She ought to move on too.

A sharp snap! rescues her from grim thoughts. A luggage handle is drawn and a decision is made.

‘’Looks like I’m all set. Walk me to the door?’’

‘’Promise to visit for Bommy Night?’’

‘’Sure. Why not Christmas or Easter or any other normal holidays?’’

‘’I want you on Bommy Night.’’

A suitcase is wheeled over the threshold of a small London flat. A dream leaves through the door.

‘’Hun, it happened four hundred years ago, think you can let it go, eventually?’’

‘’Bommy Night?’’

‘’Bommy Night.’’ She sighs. ‘’And do clean up while I’m gone. This place is a mess.’’

A door shuts behind an idyllic picture, a semblance of normalcy, a modicum of love.

In all her lives, Johanna Constantine has never particularly enjoyed loneliness. But loneliness far outweighs death, grief, sorrow, work. So she lets it go. She lets love overflow. She lets her only friend forge her own path through the world. A world cleansed of any demons, ghouls or whatnots that come bump into the night.

Still, she hangs onto the knob. Still, she pauses before the door. Still, she glances at the quiet flat.

A piece of paper and a mess of clothes strewn about a dust-covered couch.

All that’s left of her.

There’s a child in there somewhere, but she doesn’t bother finding him. She knows it won’t last. She knows nothing ever lasts.

An orange cat pushes its head against her calf, purring lightly through her bones.

She might take that gig at Saint-Anne’s. She might blow up the Houses of Parliament. She might phone Rachel.

Endless possibilities.

⌛︎ ⌛︎ ⌛︎

GaiaPrime-57, Edge of the Worlds, Mytikas Peak, Two Millennia Before the End,

He isn’t sure she is breathing.

Granted, his kind do not need to breathe, but nearly all living things do.

In the beginning, breathing was surviving.

Breathing was new, invented by some higher power, meant to be the latest trend in a series of many; holy gifts bestowed upon humanity before it even became humanity.

But in humanity breathing has found meaning.

One’s breathing tells a tale of life—of life and of love and of sorrow and of pain.

In times forgotten but not forgiven, he’d relish in the steady breath of sleepers.

He’d watch the ephemeral rise and fall of a passing chest with great fascination, overcome with a strange mixture of relief and indifference when the fleeting moment inevitably ended.

He’d listen to the soft thrumming of a laboured breath fanning across his own lips, bodies tangled, hearts mingled, minds miles apart. He’d pour his heart into everything that he was and everything that he wanted and he’d breathe them all into his arms… and they would always end up drowning. He’d choke the breath right out of them.

His sorrow was great; but his love was suffocating.

To add insult to injury, evolution has made breathing mandatory; essential.

But she has defied every rule, every law, every principle and sacred promise from day one.

So he is almost certain she is not breathing at all.

And he needs her to breathe.

He isn’t sure why—perhaps because she’s got a kind smile and she’s happy and she’s wounded and she’s saved his life.

A debt he can never repay, to his dismay.

He cannot stand between a flying sword and her lovely face. He cannot mend her wounds with a flick of his wrist. He cannot call out her name so sweetly and stir something buried within the depths of a blazing nova.

But he can save her life.

The hopeful thought digs, and soft golden grains of sand guide him to Chiron’s bedchambers.

He finds the Centaur reading. He calls to him, nearly falls to his knees.

Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Oneiros, the Shaper of Form and everything he has ever been and ever will be—is utterly devastated.

Strangely enough, nothing gives the King away.

Nothing on the hard face, the wild hair nor deep eyes, nothing in the dark billowing robes and the shining ruby; it’s a feeling in the air, a rapture through time itself that tells Chiron something dreadful has happened.

That, and the dying girl in his arms.

For his usual aloofness, Oneiros proves to be very cooperative.

He lowers her to the cushioned table, per Chiron’s orders and stands aside to let him work.

He watches, powerless, as the doctor tears through fabric and blood-marred skin and frowns.

‘’What is it?’’ His voice is cutting, demanding, that of a sovereign hanging onto his crown with one hand. In the other, lie his wants and desires. Duty warring against something barely blossoming. Something deadly. Something very nearly dead.

‘’The stitches hold still.’’

‘’Is that not a good thing?’’

‘‘Terrible. Very terrible, Milord.’’

Gilded scissors cut deeper, digging into raw flesh and crusted meat alike, dragging unintelligible pained murmurs from the victim’s throat.

‘’She’s coming to, my lord.’’

‘’Not quite. Faster.’’

Scissors chop away, blood bursts everywhere, screams rip free, golden liquid bearing the smell of spoilt milk leaks through veins.

‘’By Zeus—’’ The Centaur curses; the Dream Lord hears it—neither moves an inch.

‘’What is that?’’ Oneiros rasps, anger lacing his even tone as he stares deeper into the leaking wound.

‘’Adiona—‘’ Chiron stammers, wide eyes burning a hole into a gaping canyon. ‘’Go, find Adiona, and any servants and willing gods.’’

Oneiros does not move. His star-filled gaze has darkened; the stars are slowly dying as they gawk at the trickling drops of blood and the large puddle of liquid gold pouring from the wound.

‘’Oneiros, go!’’ Chiron calls to him, they share a glance over the woman and then his eyes sweep over her fevered form again. A pale hand he hadn’t noticed falls from a limp grasp. He is gone in a swirl of sand.

What happens in the split second of his absence is a secret kept between the doctor and the universe.

But for clarity’s sake, the scene is as follows; this tale is not for the faint of heart.

Blood pours.

As a doctor, surgeon, centaur, son of a ruthless beast, he has seen blood. Some might say he is used to the sight of it. Blood and pus and bodily fluids, all fascinating in their diversity. After its inevitable loss, the human body can produce nearly one liter per day. That's two gallons full of pungent blood. He fears she might fill up five pitchers of wine with her blood alone.

But the blood doesn't bother him. It is terrifying.

Blood pours, pours.

Vicious droplets gushing from a gaping wound—a Sunday to him.

He'd operated during the Dhorian Invasion and all that followed humanity's first brush with extraterrestrial forces. He'd served as a soldier for a time, a nurse, a brother, a friend, a gravestone. He thought he'd seen all the world had to give and take.

He hadn't.

He probably still hasn't.

Blood pours pours pours.

Red splotches dot his skin—her skin, the difference is hard to tell anymore.

He reacts mechanically, his body switching to auto-pilot. His arm lifts, a hand reaches and nibble fingers dig through shining flesh and golden remnants of bone. He knows what this is, this gilded ambrosia spreading through her veins. He knows what it is and he knows what it does, so he carries on, hands digging through her entrails as her screams overpower the wet squelching of his crass ministrations.

He digs and he digs until the voice that comes from her throat is nothing but a distant echo carried by a Roman breeze, a flutter of a butterfly's wings.

By the time the doors to his antechamber burst open, he's elbow deep into the angry flesh of her.

A flurry of gods and goddesses and servants stand arrayed about him, gawking eyes narrowing at the sight of the carnage.

''Chiron,'' a voice calls to him, and then two, and then three and a thousand and one. They pierce through the silent spell in the room and noise comes back to him at once, a moist, most disturbing noise.

He carries on; acutely aware that somewhere along his ministrations, she had stopped screaming.

''Chiron, there's too much blood.''

''Is this all from the... inside?''

‘’I could not find Adiona.’’

‘’No matter. Hold her hand.’’

Wordlessly, he gives commands. A world of gods and servants obey, gathering tools and knowledge, changing bandages and spoiling cloth after cloth with dried pungent blood. It just never stops, the flow keeps pouring, rushing over all of Mount Olympus. The rivers of blood spread like gossip on Haloa, splitting into narrow paths, designing warped veins on the pristine floors. The irony.

The servants still the traveller. It is useless. The violent writhing has subsided, only slight tremors remain, faint whimpers and an assembly of gods.

Hephaestus beats her chest repeatedly with brawny arms.

A Cherub's small rounded fingers are pressed against her pulse. With every passing second, they press harder still.

Calliope, ninth daughter of the Hecatae, is sponging up blood and gilded pus from a corpse.

A painting that will never make it to a museum.

Oneiros knows she is no longer breathing. Her hand lays slack in his palm.

Chiron perseveres. Delicate fingers pry him off the body carefully.

The stranger-traveller-lover-of-dreams is... dead?

''It's alright, Chiron. You did your best.''

''You were very admirable. As was she; she shall be remembered as such.''

''Really nothing you could do.''

''Try again.''

A death knell drops. A pipe organ is playing somewhere deep within the bowels of the palace. The eerie melody cannot reach them. Nothing can save for sorrow and grief and the Dreamlord's quiet anger.

''My Lord?''

''Try. Again.''

Chiron holds his haunted gaze. The ninth daughter of the Hecatae raises a graceful hand to the side of his face. ''Oneiros—''

''Save her.'' he repeats, rasping voice never changing in tone. ''You owe her that much.''

''Do I?'' The doctor's eyes sweep over her form again. Just a moment ago she'd been laughing, mocking his customs and reminiscing gibberish. Just a moment ago, she'd been carried in by the prince of stories for whom she obviously harbored a strong inclination. ''Do you?''

Just a moment ago, she'd been more than a cold lump of meat on a decorative table.

''I know when to admit defeat, Dreamlord. Please, forgive me.''

''No.''

''Oneiros, he did all he could.''

Cold, starless eyes barely brush against some ninth daughter. Under his stare, she feels smaller than a grain of sand.

''No,'' Chiron says before the Dream Lord can retort. ''No, I did not.''

''Chiron—‘’

His shoulders deflate, turning away from Calliope's comforting touch. ''She came to see me this morning. After the feast.''

''Well, what did she want?'' a rough, gravelly voice asks. The Cherub hops on a corner of the table, bare legs brushing over the tip of her dead sandaled feet. She is a corpse now, everything about her is dead, expect, perhaps, her heart. It shall live endlessly.

''She asked me to check the wound. I had to remove the bandage and cut her up, I'm afraid.''

The temperature drops, the air turns crisp, burning the doctor's lungs when he draws a deep breath and looks into Morpheus' eyes.

''Tell me, is this your doing?''

''I wish,'' he surrenders, summoning all the strength left in him. His hands are covered in blood, his arms reek of death and his scalp is as damp as that of the victim. The blood has gilded vein-like streaks stretching across his arms. ''This—this is something else. Something impossible.''

He orders the blood-covered servants to leave. As they fill out wordlessly, he watches, scrutinizing them one by one. The doors close on blood and fabric and a forbidden glance.

To the remaining world, he whispers one word.

''Δηλητήριο.''

''Poison?'' Calliope echoes, frowning. ''It cannot be. Zeus had all the hemlock shrubs removed after the Phaedra incident.''

''Only this isn't hemlock, Calliope. This is something else. Something new.''

''Could it be lethal to us?''

''Of course not, dimwit! Why would you even think that?''

''Look what it's done to her, Anteros! A powerful beauty, was she? I mean no disrespect my lord.''

Hephaestus considers himself a man of bravery and honor.

He isn't anywhere near as obnoxious as Plutus, or inconsiderate as Aergia, and twice the man Anteros pretends to be. But he must admit that the tendrils of pure darkness sprouting from the Master of Dreams’ shadow make him a tee tiny bit frightened.

They expand, licking across the polished floors, continuing their creeping journey toward the foot of the table, snuffing out all light and life from the closest particles of this plane. The shadows grow, shape, de-shape and reshape in a senseless and endless twirl.

Calliope has always been braver than him.

She turns and in one graceful twirl places herself between the tendrils of darkness and her half-brother. Between the god and the Endless. She stares him down. He stares right back.

The tendrils tremble around the edges.

Chiron pinches the bridge of his nose wearily. A cherub sucks a thumb into his mouth, watching the game with bright amused eyes.

A shadow stills, the air turns sour.

A gasp is breathed, a heart is released.

A stranger-traveller springs from a table, cheered on by a collective shriek. A toddler tumbles from her table. A palm is pressed to her cheek, lovely brown eyes coming into view. Shadows retreat into the darkest parts of an ancient soul.

She breathes. She lives. She cries.

''Please, please, don't send me off on a burning boat.''

-

A/N: yes I am alive, no, I’m not sorry (a tiny bit still).

Also… finally introducing the premise, how do we feel about that ;)

Gotta sort the rest of my drafts before I update again, but I’m currently working on a Sandman x DBD crossover so updates on this series might take a while. And since the algorithm seems to be against me, I'd recommend a follow to be sure not to miss them!

#morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman #lord morpheus #morpheus x reader #let me know if I forgot any tags #netflix the sandman #sandman netflix #the sandman x reader #dream x fem!reader #dream x reader #the sandman au #sandman fic #the sandman netflix #the sandman comics #sandman comics #greek mythology #greek gods

[aliceindaisychains999]

Ultimis’ Favorite Things! (What Makes Them Happy)

Tank Dempsey

A big chunk is revealed in his World at War bio. “Hand him a loaded weapon, a good woman, and something it shoot at and he’s happy.” Dempsey appreciates the simpler things in life. Anything that includes ass-kicking and a lovely lady by his side is enough to keep him grounded. A nice, cold beer would be nice as well!

Cats! He's a total softie about them. Tank actually owned several in his lifetime. As a kid, he had a calico cat named Sadie. She had a cat sibling named Mason, who’s fur was black and white. And then there is his orange tabby back home named Rocket. Rocket finds himself into a lot of mischief easily. Having zoomies around the house and stealing socks (and once munched on Tank’s $20 bill), he eventually calms down and Tank feels at ease having him purr on his lap.

Believe it or not, Tank does have appreciation for the great outdoors. He has a lot of fond memories about his Dad. A big majority of those memories take place camping in late summer. He finds it easier to ground himself when on a long hiking trail, birdwatching, making a campfire and canoeing. No fishing though, he will fistfight a mackerel.

Takeo Masaki

Peace and quiet. Complete solitude. He’s very introverted, perhaps to the point it’s been concerned that he’s a hikkikomori. But that won’t stop Takeo from finding a place with gentle atmosphere. A bonus if he can have a cup of tea as well, lemon ginger with a spoonful of honey to be exact.

His hobbies give his mind distraction. He enjoys tending to his small garden of flowers and a small bamboo plant. If he had to choose, he would say African daisies are his favorite flower. Takeo also loves Lily of the Valley, but knows they can be poisonous so he doesn’t have them. Other hobbies include meditation, reading, working on his memoir, keeping sharp on his combat training and his new interest in woodworking.

Takeo will light up if you have his specific type of witty humor. He isn’t always thrilled by crass comments. But there have been a few times he let it slide by for the sake of making light of a situation. The best I can describe it is that it tends to be a little snarky with some situational humor. It’s what helps him connect a bit better with Dempsey.

Edward Richtofen

I think it goes without question that he is a huge bookworm. But his taste is not what you’d expect. Aside from nonfiction involving scientific topics, he also enjoys romance novels. But he’d never confess that to anyone! One of his all time favorites is a theory written about the concept of time and quantum gravity research.

Edward has always dreamt of traveling. Technically, he is with the teleporter. But it’s not the same as having a getaway vacation like a train ride to the Swiss Alps or exploring a bustling city like New York. He recalls a few times where he tried to make a vacation out of traveling abroad for Group 935 and illuminati related purposes. And his family had visited Italy a few times in past summers as a child. Perhaps someday, he’ll be able to make this dream of his a reality.

Success, of course! Isn’t it obvious? When you’ve had so many colleagues und oppressors order you around, it’s enough of a drive to finally take control in your hands and to do things YOUR way! He’s a highly ambitious doctor. There is always a plan accompanied with a goal or purpose in the long run. The smoother things go, the more gleeful he behaves. Is that why he was so happy at Camp Edward?

I’m mad because knowing him, there is definitely one way to relieve his stress that we will NOT speak of. Ach, primitive simpelton! Instead, I’ll add that he has a soft spot for jazz music and stuffed animals (both real and the teddy bear kind)

Nikolai Belinski

There’s more depth to him than just your standard vodka answer. But we’ll kick things off and say yes he does enjoy a good drink. His favorite besides vodka is Țuică. But it’s SO strong he saves it for special occasions. And he has to drink it at home because he got kicked out at one of the bars he used to go to because of it.

Believe it or not, he’s an excellent cook! He can win the hearts of many with a warm meal. Nikolai enjoys making comforting stews to pelmeni to even bread baking every now and then. It was more frequent when he was sober but he still gives it a shot every now and then. Just as long as he’s regular drunk and not super drunk. Super drunk makes everything a bit disastrous.

Nikolai loves stories. He has many good ones to tell. But he also loves hearing from others about their lives. Nikolai also enjoys card games like blackjack or war. He’s an incredibly skilled player so if he asks you to play, know you have a real challenge on your hands

#cod zombies #call of duty zombies #codz #black ops zombies #nazi zombies #ultimis crew #ultimis #edward richtofen #tank dempsey #takeo masaki #nikolai belinski #ultimis richtofen #ultimis takeo #ultimis dempsey #ultimis nikolai #writing #my wrtitng

[forthedancingandthethriving]

The Muses of Harmonia

(I was very bored)

General Info

The Muses (or Gods) in Harmonia are all good-aligned and are the only deities in Harmonia's history. There have been demi-muses(gods) and monsters, but a Muse will never be replaced.

Each of the Muses's true forms are sort of comprehensible. If blessed by the Muse, you may be able to see them in a partial bit of the true form, but never in its entirety.

Each Muse cares very deeply for the people of Harmonia.

They are all aware of the Code World to an extent! Watered Down Dreams clued them in, along with the universe activation. They're all neutral about it.

When appearing before those not blessed, they tend to take form of what their element is. Bliss for light, Aldor for fire, Caspian for water, and so forth. These forms are also used when inflicting punishments/curses.

More compact forms are used when merely conversing.

They are most connected to the current ruler of a kingdom and Songbird's. There's churches, of course, but there's a bad history concerning them, so the Muses tend to stiff them.

It genuinely takes a lot to piss them off, but when someone does, they'll live to regret it. If they even live as well.

Their arrival is typically hailed by element sprites appearing in swarms from nowhere, chanting the Muse's name, and then they appear. This is only whenever they're genuinely upset or angered over something, though.

Bliss

Muse of Light and Rythmn, patron Muse of Luminos.

Takes the form of a white short-haired she-cat, with a simple white dress covering her. Small angel-like wings cover her eyes because they glow way too brightly, and she has three sets of wings on her back.

Very soft spoken, and only ever appears when it's truly needed.

Spends a lot of her time roaming around Luminos, disgused as a simple commoner.

Unus

Muse of Darkness and Simplicity.

Small bat-like wings cover his eyes, as they're so dark it could drive anyone mad. Takes the form of a purple, short-haired tom wearing a tunic and black pants.

Has been intentionally inflicting misfortune upon King Umbra. He wants him OUT.

Aldor

Muse of Fire and Passion.

Constantly emitting some level of heat, and can control how much.

Takes the form of a ginger tomcat, typically wearing a blacksmiths getup.

Loves seeing what the people of Stagnus can make.

Caspian

Muse of Water and Creativity.

Takes the form of a medium-haired, blue cat. Wears clothes similar to a pirate's.

Was pissed about Leto for days afterwards, because he was the one who had to fix all the water.

Cit

Muse of Ice and Progress.

Takes the form of a black maine coon, typically wearing a large, winter-esque dress.

She was the one of two Muses who advocated for Doppleganger Arle when she appeared in the universe. She's representative of progress in all aspects, including one's character. Quite literally refused to let any of the other Muses even near.

Doesn't exactly trust the current ruler of Desiderio.

Petunia

Muse of Nature and Medicine.

Takes the form of a tabby cat, wearing a flowy green dress and bee wings and antennas.

Constantly has pollen all over her. If bees could exist up in the heavens, she's probably be swarmed by them.

Zenith

Muse of Lightning and Energy.

If ADHD was allowed to become a god.

Takes the form of a calico cat and typically wears just a white toga.

Always has some fur sticking up, like he's going to be struck like lightning.

Tera

Muse of Earth and Journey.

Is a regular tabby cat, with slightly fluffier than normal fur. Wears a simple long coat with pants.

Always on the move, doesn't stay in one place for long.

Zephyr

Muse of Wind and Change.

Takes the form of a chartreux cat, with a long tail. Wears the outfit of an archer.

He was the other Muse who advocated for Doppleganger Arle when she entered their universe. As he embodies all aspects of change, including personal, he does believe she can get better.

#game: the cloud's songbird #!posts!

[eddiemunsonappreciationsociety]

MY WORD IS MY BOND

Part Ten: I couldn't help it, yes, I let it get in: the helpless optimism of spring

After my nap I start my full moon duties by placing crystals and bowls of water on my roof to charge, muttering spells and good intentions as I do. I make small spell jars and hang them in my windows to be blessed by the moonlight. Whilst I go about my tasks all my spare thoughts go towards Eddie. The absence of him is palpable to me, I had woken up from a dream of us wrapped around one another and it has left me flustered.

I had woken up to a message instructing me to meet him a few streets over and he'll take me wherever I need to go. I am excited and nervous, as always, to see him, but also about being in the car together. I don't want to push him to things he's not ready with, but I truly don't believe he'd do anything to put me in danger.

We would need to drive an hour outside the city to the woods, I have crystals, water, spell jars and ingredients that have been sat for a whole moon cycle ready to be taken in on the full moon. There's also a beautiful stream that runs through the trees and I like to collect natural water from there to use myself, and occasionally to sell.

After my tasks are done, the animals are fed and settled, and I am dressed in warmer clothes I let Eddie know I'm leaving. I grab the bag I prepacked, laden with the stuff I'd need for tonight as well as a couple of joints and some food too.

The night is warm, with a slight glow from the full moon and I take a moment to look up and acknowledge her before starting my journey. The streets are empty of cars and people, but the animals are active. I see cats and foxes roaming the streets, some follow me for a while before breaking back off. I feel the familiar warmth and electricity as I get closer to Eddie. This feeling seems to get stronger each time we meet now. I'm about half a street away when a fat ginger tabby sits in front of me before rolling onto her back and showing me her white tummy and then rolling back.

I crouch down and begin to stroke from her head to tail a few times before scratching around her ears and neck. She purrs in appreciation, pushing her head into my hand, and then she stands up and rubs on my legs.

I hear a rumble of a car approaching and I look up, my jaw drops. A Mercedes sports car pulls up. The front is long, vents and detailing pucker the length of the bonnet, there's a spoiler on the back and the whole thing screams expensive. The tinted window rolls down and Eddie's face beams at me from the driver's seat.

"I could feel you were close, can you feel that?" he grins.

"Are you not going to explain the Batmobile you've just pulled up in."

He gets out of the car and is by my side in an instant. The quickness of Eddie startles the ginger cat and she darts away. I'm in his arms before the door even closes behind him. His arms wrap around me and hold me to him. Warmth takes over my entire body as we're pressed against one another. The energy crackles between us again, my heart absolutely pounding against my chest. I'm completely surrounded by him and I press my face into his chest and his nose pressed into the top of my head. We both inhale deeply and I fill my lungs with the scent of leather and smoke and vanilla.

"Sorry, I will explain. I just had to do that," he murmurs before separating from me and opening the passenger door.

"You used vampire speed, you haven't done that in front of me."

I see him pause.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" his voice is soft.

"No," I smile, shaking my head to show I'm fine. "Not at all - I think it's cool."

"You're cool, now get in the car Lily." his voice is demanding and he punctuates the end of his sentence with a kiss on my temple.

I sink into the car, feeling almost dazed by the show of affection. The interior feels even more luxurious than the outside. The seats were plush black leather, lined with orange stitching. I run y hands over the dashboard, the material feels like suede and is super soft under my fingertips. Eddie joins me in the car and watches me for a minute.

"I know nothing about cars, but this one feels ridiculous," I tell him.

"This is a Mercedes AMG, 2022 Black series and it is ridiculous." he chuckles. 

As if to illustrate that fact he turns the key in the ignition and the car hums to life. We peel off and it feels like we're floating, I notice Eddie open his window and I do the same. The whole car just smells of him to me, but I can imagine such a small interior space would fill with whatever scent I have. He fiddles with some buttons until the car is filled with the sound of Run the Jewels. He reaches over and takes my hand, placing it on the dashboard again. The music seems to come from the car itself.

"This is so fucking cool," I whisper as the combination of feeling the music and Eddie's skin on mine makes me feel like I could flip a car.

"I think I can get us close to where we need to go without help, but once we're within a few miles you'll have to direct me." His voice is low, and slow like he's trying not to breathe too much.

"Can we smoke in the Batmobile?" I ask quickly, pulling a rolled joint out of my bag and waving it at him.

"Of course, spark up. I actually have something for you in the glovebox but now I'm thinking of it I don't know if it'll mess with your witchy things."

I open the compartment and inside are six cans of ready-mixed whisky sours. I take two out and close the compartment.

"This is fine," I go to pass it to him then pull back. "Are you ok with this? You're driving."

He looks at me with derision.

"I'm a fucking vampire, humans drunk driving are morons, but I am absolutely fine to."

I can't help but laugh as I pass him the can, I spark the joint and he hands me his phone.

"Pick some music to help channel your power." he insists and I feel an overwhelming wave of affection towards him.

"Thank you, Eddie." I let my fingers linger on him as I take the phone.

I select some Florence and the Machine as we fly down the motorway well over the speed limit. Despite how fast we're going the car feels smooth. As we get closer to the woods I instruct him where to go and we're soon parking up a little off-road. He takes my bag for me and I take his hand and lead him deeper into the trees.

I inhale deeply and take in the unmatched feeling of being surrounded by trees. I feel the dampness of the recent rain from the canopy of the trees on my skin, nature at work, and life thriving. I let go of Eddie's hand briefly and place my hands on a trunk of a tree. My palms and fingertips hum at the connection, I glance into brown eyes as I realise this is so similar to how Eddie's skin feels to me. There aren't many leaves on the ground, and with Summer coming the dead ones have already gone back to the earth. Fingers lace through mine once again as we head even deeper.

"It smells like you," Eddie says so quietly I'm not sure he did speak, just as we get a few feet from

"It does?" I stop as we reach the edge of my lavender patch.

"Yeah, this whole space - everything is tinged like you." he drops to his knees and picks a sprig of lavender and smells it. "It's so odd; like it smells like lavender, but it smells like you."

I don't really know what to say, so I just ruffle his brown curls and begin to reach up into the trees. I had placed organza bags full of crystals in strategic places where they could be charged.

"So you leave these out here?" Eddie asks curiously, helping me as I struggle with a bag on a higher branch.

"Yeah, crystals and water that has been charged for a full moon cycle are super potent."

He helps me gather all the bags, asking questions as we go - so curious about the different types of crystals and their uses. With his help, I gather everything in record time and I am picking ingredients when I'm usually a third of the way through gathering. I grow my own lavender, rosemary, sage, chamomile and yarrow in patches here. I also grow mint and flowers on my roof, but these ingredients are always stronger in terms of magick.

"It's a nice night for it, I love when spring is turning into summer," I tell Eddie as I reach down and begin to dig up and pick the lavender.

"What are you doing for summer solstice?"

My head snaps around and looks at him, eyebrows raised.

"Hey, I know my witchy things." he winks at me.

"I usually do this." I motion to my bag of crystals and ingredients.

"What? Really?"

I know by his tone already he knows how witches usually spend solstices.

"Yeah, I'm not part of a coven, so I don't get invited." I shrug and hope that is enough to get him to change the subject.

All of a sudden he kneels next to me and takes my hands.

"But you do so much for them all?"

"It's not that simple." I try to take my hands away but he holds them firmly.

"I won't make you talk to me about it now, but I would like you to tell me when you're ready. And I would like to also ask if you want to spend the summer solstice with me. I will help you gather everything you need the next day, but the day and night spend with me."

"I- I would love that."

"Great, it's a solstice date." he leans over and kisses the tip of my nose before standing up and I'm left sort of dazed again.

I gather the lavender and we head to the stream to fill the various vessels I had and then we'd be done. Eddie is playing in the water, running his long fingers along the surface before plunging his hand in.

"Ow, fuck." Eddie yells, I spin around at the sound in time to see him throw down a crystal that seems to be stuck to him.

I run to his side and take his hand in mine. His skin was burnt, blistered and bloody. I look at what he'd dropped and see black malachite, still smoking. Eddie suddenly sways on the spot and I grab his elbow.

"Sit down," I demand and he shakily goes to the floor. "Eddie, I am so sorry."

He had gone pale and his lips were white. I shake the fear that was trying to get me away and grab an empty vessel, fill it with water, and lavender, and drop a blue tourmaline into it before shaking it up and dropping to my knees in front of Eddie.

I take his hand in mine, still burning, and pour the water over it. I close his hand and wrap both of mine around it and close my eyes. I begin to mutter healing spells, I imagine his hand healing and suddenly the biggest surge of power flow through us - I feel its roots everywhere: the moon, the water, the trees, music playing softly from his phone, and from us - and it culminates in a huge feeling between our fingers. I drop his hand.

Eddie's colour is back in his face instantly and he looks down where the burn had been, now clear.

"What the fuck." we both whisper.

He looks up at me questioningly.

"Why are you shocked?"

"It should be a healed wound, but there should still be a wound."

"Whoa," he says, peering at his palm. "What the fuck was that?"

"It was black tourmaline, EddieI'm so sorry. I didn't even think of the protection crystals in the water.

"That's the thing that kept me away from you?"

"Along with a spell, but essentially yet."

"Whoa, fucking hardcore." he laughs, jumping up and rooting in his pocket.

"Are you joking?" I shake my head, not believing what I see as he sparks a joint.

"I nearly died,

"You probably wouldn't have died. Just maybe lost a hand."

"Fantastic," he says and passes the joint to me. 

#eddie smut #eddie imagine #eddie fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #vampire eddie #vampire eddie munson #supernatural romance #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fics #eddie munson plus size #my word is my bond

[largepeachicedtea]

tagged by @sscrambledmeggss ty!

Are you named after anyone? first name nope, one of my middle names (i have two) was the name of my aunt who passed away when i was young

When was the last time you cried? yesterday, i cry every day and its almost always bc of songs or my hours-long daydreams

Do you have kids? my cat is my kid

Do you use sarcasm a lot? lmao yep i dont know a british person who doesnt

What sports do you play/have you played? i was a basketball kid in school bc i was always a tall kid and it was the only sport i really liked, but i dont care about any sports now

What’s the first thing you notice about people? usually what they're doing/looking at, i like being aware

What’s your eye color? hazel-y

Scary movies or happy endings? happy endings always but im a fan of horror (specifically thriller/mindfuck horror)

Any special talents? lol absolutely none

Where were you born? at a hospital

What are your hobbies? writing, reading, making arty things, basic fitness (but my stamina is nonexistent pls dont ask me to run)

Do you have pets? yeep my kid 1yr old cat sebastian. hes a ginger and white tabby who's going through an intense biting phase rn lol

How tall are you? 177cm

Favorite subject in school? anything creative, like art, fashion&textiles, graphic design, etc. the only A i got in my GCSEs was for fashion&textiles at like 97/100 lmao

Dream job? i do not dream of labor. but if we mean in this world where i have to work, then id stay as a graphic designer but go freelance

@glitteratti @tattooedsiren @taralaurel @chaotictarlos @bonheur-cafe @firstprince-history-huh @lightningboltreader @sanjuwrites @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @sugdenlovesdingle @carlos-in-glasses @catanisspicy @welcometololaland @stilesinwonderland @nancysgillians @rmd-writes and anyone else who wants to :))

#tagged

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 57

< Chapter 56 || Index || Chapter 58 >

The trees towered around him, majestic pines that blotted out the sky above him with their mighty needles. It was impossible to tell how tall they truly were - but from how even the lowest branches were a treelength above him, it wasn’t impossible to imagine that they were even taller than the Great Sycamore. Their roots were massive as well; they crawled over the ground like swollen snakes, deeply embedding the trees around him into the earth.

His fur prickled uncomfortably as he gazed upon the ferns surrounding him. He had been here before; several times now, in fact. His memory felt unusually hazy, like the mist that constantly permeated this forest had invaded his mind as well. Yet despite that, he remembered enough.

“Redtail!” He yowled, looking around for the former deputy. He had to be nearby. He always was, watching Fireheart with those golden sun-like eyes of his. And yet, despite the call, the calico tom didn’t immediately materialize. The forest around him was quiet and still, as even the breeze seemed to hold its breath.

He frowned as he looked around again. He still didn’t see anything aside from green leaves and pale gray mist. Why wasn’t the ghostly tabby tom appearing? Surely he hadn’t been scared away by his yowling. “I know you’re out there!” He shouted out to the emptiness.

There was no response.

Was Redtail toying with him? He lashed his tail angrily at the thought. He had more important things to do with his time than go chasing a ghost that could appear and disappear at will. He wasn’t going to play games with a former deputy, not in his own dreams.

And yet, as he willed himself to wake, he found he couldn’t. He was stuck here. His tail bristled angrily at the realization. It seemed he didn’t have a choice; he would have to play along. “I swear, Redtail, when I find you…” He growled, taking a few steps forward.

It was then that he heard a rustling in the fern leaves. As he turned to look, it was then that the deputy’s spirit burst out of the foliage. “There you are!” He panted, as though he had been running for a long time. “You’re becoming so difficult to find. It seems Starclan is trying to hide you from me.”

He wrinkled his nose in disdain. “Aren’t you already part of Starclan?” He snapped back as he stood face to face with the former deputy.

The dappled tom shook his head. “No. Not yet. They call to me constantly, telling me that it is time to rest. But I cannot rest. Not when the Clan I spent my life serving is still in danger.”

“You mean Tigerclaw.” The spirit nodded affirmatively. “Well, why don’t you actually do something useful instead of bothering me all the time? Like, I dunno, telling all of this to Bluestar? She’d believe it if it came straight from you.”

The tabby deputy sighed and looked down at his multi-colored paws. “I’ve tried. More times than I can count, in fact. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot reach her in her dreams. I have even tried talking to her in the living world, but she seems to see right through me, and my words fall on deaf ears.” He shook his head and sat down with another heavy sigh. “It seems Starclan is preventing me from reaching her myself.”

Fireheart tilted his head in confusion as he slowly sat down as well. “But why? Surely they must recognize that Tigerclaw is a threat.”

The other tom’s eyes narrowed angrily at that. “It is forbidden for Starclan to interfere with the living unless necessary. It seems we have different ideas of what ‘necessary’ means.” He huffed and looked out into the forest. “They try to thwart me at every turn. First with Bluestar, but now that they know that I know of you, they’re trying to stop that as well.”

The ginger warrior blinked in surprise at the deputy’s words. “What do you mean, know of me? That’s a little cryptic, isn’t it?”

“Fire alone can save our Clan.” Fireheart perked his ears as the deputy murmured the prophecy, his golden gaze turning back to the warrior in front of him. “Those are the words on every Starclanner’s tongue. I don’t know what they may have seen, but I know that what I’ve seen has shown there is good reason for their interest in you.”

He shuffled his paws uncomfortably at that. “Me? But I’m just a warrior!” He shook his head in disbelief. “A kittypet, even, according to some.” He added bitterly, thinking of Dustleap and Darkstripe. Though they hadn’t bothered him as much now that he was a warrior, he could still feel the contempt from them every time he crossed paths with the tabbies.

“It was you who drove out Brokentail, was it not? And it was you that led Windclan home.” The tabby deputy flicked an orange ear dismissively. “You have a remarkable talent to find yourself in the right place at the right time. A way of affecting fate like no other cat I’ve seen before.”

“Graystripe and Peppermask were there for both of those, too.” Fireheart pointed out incredulously. Starclan obviously saw a great deal, but he couldn’t imagine why they’d taken such an interest in him. “Or do they not count?”

The calico tom shrugged. “Starclan chose you. While I may doubt their wisdom in some regards…” His brow furrowed momentarily, before he shook it away, “I can only assume that their interest in you is not unfounded. You have yet to give me a reason to doubt that.”

He tried to wrap his mind around that. Part of him felt undeserving, but the spirit’s earnest gaze dissuaded him from protesting further. “I just wish I knew what to do with Tigerclaw.” He admitted, gazing off into the forest. It felt quiet and peaceful here, yet the mere mention of the murderous tabby sent a shiver down his spine. “I feel so helpless. All we can do is wait as he plots his next move.”

Redtail dipped his head beside him. “I will do what I can to help you, just as I have been.”

“Just as you-” He looked back at the deputy, thoughts turning in his mind. “You’ve been watching us, haven’t you? That’s how you always seem to know when to show up.”

“Yes.” The tabby tom didn’t hesitate in agreeing. “I watched over Ravenspirit for a while. I had to make sure he was safe from his father’s plotting. That day with the adders…” The spirit shivered, his ghostly form wavering for a moment. “But I have been doing what I can to help you. Showing my sister the folly of her thinking, helping Yellowfang understand, helping you see the truth… I know it’s not much, but if I can help you, then I will. That, I promise you.”

Fireheart nodded slowly as he pondered that. It made sense - How else would the dappled deputy always seem to know when to show up? “And here I thought you were just being evasive. What with you never seeming to appear for more than a few heartbeats.”

The calico sighed and looked away. “I wish I could stay longer, but merely existing in the physical world is like standing in a raging inferno. Each moment that passes feels like it might be the last before I burn away entirely.” He shook his head bitterly. “It’s only here, on this border between the living and the dead, that I am able to exist freely. Otherwise, I am a mere observer; an outsider looking in.”

For a moment, he imagined what it must be like to watch the Clan go on without him. He had siblings, children, and apprentices, not to mention close friends. It must have been painful watching them mourn his death, unable to comfort them. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that must feel.” He finally murmured softly to the other tom.

Redtail looked wistfully out into the ferns. “It is a very lonely path, wandering this forest alone. My parents, my sister, my mentor; all wait for me in Starclan. It is so tempting to join them, sometimes.” He shook his long fur out and blinked back to Fireheart. “But I will not, not until Tigerclaw’s dark ambitions no longer threaten my Clan. Our Clan.”

Fire alone can save our Clan - the words echoed in his mind. “We will. I promise, Redtail, I will do whatever it takes to make sure that Tigerclaw doesn’t succeed.”

The calico tom dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I have faith that will be enough.”

The ginger warrior glanced up at the trees above. Though he had no way of gauging how much time had passed, he could only imagine that he would wake up soon. They probably didn’t have much time left. “I don’t suppose you have any ghostly advice for me?” He asked aloud, giving the deputy a sly glance.

For the first time, the tabby spirit’s whiskers twitched into something of a smirk. “I don’t yet possess Starclan’s wisdom, unfortunately. But I can tell you this; Yellowfang is a powerful ally, and one that I am sure will help you greatly. She has been a healer for as long as I have been alive; no doubt she has seen much and knows a great many things.” He paused for a moment, pondering something else. “You may be able to find others that will give you aid, as well. Tigerclaw is not beloved by all in the Clan.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise at that. “Like Lionheart?” He asked, thinking of how the giant warrior had boldly pointed out how Tigerclaw had broken the code when Bluestar revealed Starclan’s message.

To his surprise, the deputy frowned; clearly, his former apprentice hadn’t been who he was thinking of. “He might be persuaded, yes.” He admitted slowly. “But be careful. Tigerclaw has just as many admirers as he does enemies.”

Just as Fireheart was about to reply, the calico stiffened. “It seems our time is up. Remember what I have said.” He mewed swiftly as he stood up.

The ruddy tom blinked in surprise “Wait, don’t go! I still-”

WHAM!

He wheezed as something slammed into his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and leaving him hunched over and winded. “I have-”

WHAM!

Fireheart startled out of his sleep as Graystripe kicked him sharply in the stomach, sending him sprawling out of the nest. “Starclan above, Graystripe!” he moaned, doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. “What was that for?”

The gray tom mumbled something, and after a moment Fireheart peeked over the edge of the nest to realize his friend was still sleeping. “Hey!” He snapped, reaching out with a paw to prod the twitching warrior. “You can’t just wake me up like that and get away with it! You’re nearly as bad as your sister.”

Dewpaw stirred behind him. “What about me?” She mumbled, sitting up and blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“Not you.” Fireheart replied quickly, prodding the sleeping tom again. “Cinderpaw. Graystripe warned me when I first joined that she kicked in her sleep, but he just launched me out of our nest!”

The silver tabby chuffed in amusement. “They’re both awful for it. I was so glad when we got to move out of the nursery; 6 moons of sharing a nest with them was just the worst!”

As Yellowfang stirred beside her, the ginger warrior finally gave up on politely waking up his companion. “Get up already!” He growled, nipping his friend’s ear and pulling on it.

It didn’t take more than a moment before the gray tom yowled in pain. “Let go of me!” He squawked, pawing at Fireheart’s muzzle. The ginger warrior acquiesced, sitting back on his haunches as Graystripe sat up. “What was that for? I was having the greatest dream about catching this giant rabbit!” He protested bitterly, as he raised a paw to his ear to make sure it was alright.

“You were catching me, you mousebrain!” Fireheart snapped, narrowing his eyes angrily. “You woke me up out of my dream too! I think it’s only fair I got to wake you up.”

“Well, you’re the one that nearly drowned us both!” Graystripe retorted, beginning to give himself a morning groom. “Frankly, I think I’m entitled to waking you up.”

“Easy there, both of you.” Yellowfang growled from behind him. “You’re both mousebrains for waking me up twice with your arguments!” As he turned to look at her, he could see her ears were flat as she glared at both of them. “At least it seems neither of you caught a cough. I’d hate to have you two making a racket in my den every morning for the next half-moon.”

“Sorry, Yellowfang.” Fireheart mewed abashedly, dipping his head respectfully to the old healer. “I can go fetch you breakfast, if that would make up for it?”

She glared at him a moment longer before shrugging and beginning to wash her ears. “Maybe later.” She grunted between licks. “I suppose it was about time for me to get up anyways.”

“Did you at least get some good sleep, even with my brother waking you up?” Dewpaw mewed softly from beside the grumpy molly. She seemed the most alert out of all of them, sitting up in her nest primly as she observed the other three.

“Did I-” The ginger tom blinked as he remembered what he had been dreaming about. “That’s right! Redtail visited me last night!”

The grizzled former Shadowclanner paused to stare at him suspiciously. “Did he now?” She asked drily, returning to washing her ears. “And what did he have to say?”

Fireheart sat down, trying to remember everything. “He was actually surprisingly straightforward, for once. He told me he’s been watching over us and trying to help us where he can. He said he’d been trying to visit Bluestar, in her dreams, but Starclan has been blocking him from doing it because they’re not allowed to interfere with the living. Or something like that.”

Yellowfang grunted. “Makes sense. Living’s for the living, not old dead cats.” Her tail flicked a couple of times. “If Starclan was allowed to interfere whenever, we’d never get anything done. They’d be constantly nitpicking our every move.”

He flicked a ruddy ear curiously. “Sounds like you have experience.”

A shadow passed over her face briefly. “Yeah, my parents. You’ve met them. Imagine a whole Clan like that following you around!”

He shuddered at the thought. Of all the elders, Archtail and Crowtalon had definitely been the most vocal, complaining about anything and everything. “I see what you mean.”

“Did he say anything else?” Dewpaw piped in in her usual soft voice.

His mind raced over the conversation, which was already beginning to fade from his memory. “He- He said that not everyone in the Clan was fond of Tigerclaw, and that we might be able to find some other friends. I suggested Lionheart, but that didn’t seem to be who he had in mind.” He glanced at the others hopefully. “Do you have any ideas?”

Yellowfang shrugged as she began cleaning her tail. “I’ve not been here long enough to judge.” She grumbled, leaving him to look to the other two hopefully.

Graystripe seemed to be giving it serious thought for once. “I’m not sure. Lionheart and Tigerclaw have always been the ones to butt heads, though they seem to have a mutual respect for one another. Him and Whitestorm, too, though I don’t see Whitestorm taking any sides without proof.” He finally shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure who Redtail could’ve been referring to. Most cats seem to like Tigerclaw well enough.”

Fireheart sighed and slumped his shoulders. “That’s what I was thinking.” He considered each Clan cat he had met so far. “Maybe- Maybe Dappleshine?” He mewed, thinking back to a recent conversation he’d had with her. “She didn’t seem to like him because he treated Ravenspirit poorly. Said he’d abandoned his son.” Even as he said it, though, it felt weak.

“I suppose she is his sister.” Dewpaw mewed thoughtfully, though she sounded doubtful as well. “If anyone would want justice for Redtail, it would be her.”

“There’s no point in speculating.” Yellowfang harrumphed at last, abandoning her tail to glare at them. “Dewpaw and I head for the Moonstone in a few days. Perhaps I’ll tell Bluestar I received a sign… something about a tiger hidden in shadow, or something.” She huffed disdainfully at the thought. “In any case, you two look healthy enough, and I haven’t heard so much as a sneeze since I woke up. There’s no need for you to clutter up my den any longer.”

“Yes, Yellowfang.” Fireheart mewed, gently slapping Graystripe’s haunch with his tail. “I’ll go see if Quickflash has anything for us to do. If not, maybe do some sunbathing… I’m still feeling kind of cold from our little swim.”

“Me too.” Graystripe agreed as he got up and stretched. “Maybe a bit of hunting, too. I’m starving!”

Fireheart chuckled appreciatively as he departed the healer’s den, but Redtail’s visit still lingered in the back of his mind. Who had Redtail been talking about? And why was he - and Starclan - so insistent that he was the problem to all the Clan’s woes? Even as he stepped out into the bright sunshine, it still felt like shadows lingered in his head that were not going to be easy to dispel. Not until Tigerclaw had been brought to justice at last.

#talonslock #warrior cats #wc #fanfic #the prophecies begin #thunderclan #fireheart #graystripe #redtail #yellowfang #dewpaw #talonslock story

[amourlyns]

‧ 🧟🪦💀

[ PRESERUM! 〞STEVE 〞ROGERS ]

+ FEM BLACK!READER

𝓢𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ⌕ All he needed was a few hours with you

𝓜𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒𝗇𝖾 𝓣𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 ━━ Me n my friend Liv ended up brainstorming this together, so I decided to write it out for her!! ➜      masterlist

𝓦𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ━━ None

⠀ | BEING AROUND YOU WAS SUCH A delight the man felt weightless. You took his breath away and swept him off his feet— he forgot the outside world, his responsibilities and… the terrors of the world. He was here, in the present with you. ❪ Steve would have to thank Bucky for this, he wouldn’t have gotten the courage to ask you out if he didn’t. ❫

It was around six am in the morning, the weather was just swell.. for once, the streets of Brooklyn died down, there was nothing more than a few stragglers and he didn’t get beaten up today so yeah today was going to be a good day today! and he would make sure of it.

The first thing on Steve’s list today was wrong you, but before he did that he needed to get a few things before you arrived— Steve was going to head over to the local flower shop and find some purple for you, you always said you weren’t too picky when it came to things like that. But something about the color purple fits so perfectly. Would a bouquet sweet pea flowers be too on the nose..? Wait no, irises and white lilies perfect.

The idea motivated Steven, his stride quickened and his heart seemed to quicken too, this man was in love. Undeniably so, and he couldn’t wait to see his lovely girlfriend, you were enchanting, and he was a love sick puppy— he’s finally got the girl that he’s been dreaming of since day one.

The only issue was.. that she was black, now her ethnicity didn’t bother Steve but apparently it mattered to others in this day in age an interracial couple would be seen as unworldly ❪ but ❫ that didn’t stop either of you, who has the right to deny you two of living each other? No one. as much as he wanted to show you off he’d have to keep the relationship hush, hush, and you were fine with that— you understood how it was… it’s just unfortunate, Steve wants nothing more than to show you off.

His thoughts come to a halt as he reaches the flower shop, the colors are dainty hints of pinks and whites paint the outside of the shop, the inside has more gold accents, you’d love this— he ordered the flowers, making sure to hold them with the utmost care.

His next stop was your place, you gave him a key to your apartment a few weeks ago. He planned to slip in undetected and make you breakfast, then wake you up once he was done with breakfast in bed and flowers. He also got you this new book you’ve been dying to read, he’d always tease you and say you’re a nerd but really? He is too.

He arrives to the establishment in around ten minutes, you weren’t too far away from him and that only made it more convenient for him, he stepped into the complex aquamarine hues gaze for the number ‘233’, a soft hum escapes him as he finds the door, keys ring and jingle as he searches for them in his satchel, once he gets a hold of them he opens your door.

Taking a quick peek around just in case you were awake— you were a pretty heavy sleeper anyways. The hazel hues of your cat Minnie gazed back at him instead, she purrs at the male ❪ Minnie was quite fond of him ❫, the tabby cat rubs against his legs, ginger fur scatters against his skin. He can’t help but smile.. His hands are still full but he manages to close and lock your door, when he does walk in, he places your flowers in a vase.

Now! time for breakfast. Steven takes out the eggs, milk, cinnamon and sugar he reached over to get the bread; today he would make french toast and some tea ❪ chamomile and vanilla ❫ you always insisted on it, whilst he cooked Minnie watched him for the whole duration, mewing in curiosity.

By the time he’s done it’s already six fifty—two, the apron that’s tied around his neck is pretty clean for the most part so he’d keep it on. Steven plates the tea, eggs, bacon and french toast. He drizzles on some maple syrup and holds the flowers in his left and the places the book in his satchel.

When he makes his way to your bed room you’re still sleeping. Fist hold onto to the linen sheets below, you’re cuddle up into the knitted blanket your mother made.. brown lips are slight agape and your hair.. well, that was a mess as well.

How many times did he tell you not to sleep with your glasses on?.. he takes a few steps towards you, removing the glasses off your face. Placing a small kiss on the bridge of your nose, and a few more on your cheek. This seems to wake you up. mocha hues are met with his aquamarine, you smile. Giggling at sight of breakfast, the book, the flowers and Steven.

He was too good to you, truly.. Steve gives you some space to stand up straight and stretch out a bit, when you do he gives you your breakfast in bed, you urge Steve to slide in into the space next to you, so he does. Cuddling up into your side, ❛ This is all real sweet Stevie, real sweet. Thank you sugar. ❜ you mumble out, a darling smile paints on to your visage.

You decide to try the food first— it was french toast, your favorite. Once your plate was clean steve decided to show you the book he got for you, shortly after, he shows you the flowers.

You adore them

The glee on your expression only made him feel glee in his heart, the next few minutes are spent with laughter, smooth conversation and few scattered kisses here and there. And he did sneak in a small dance, so yeah today was a good day!

#「 ★ 」 [𝐌] 𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗬𝗡𝗘 ➜ writes ™ #spirithub #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x black female reader #marvel universe #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu oneshot #captain america #captain america x female reader #captain america x black reader #captain america x reader

[iamfabiloz]

Goosefeather x sagewhisker t4t manlet and tall wife writing prmopt

Also how do you feel that i made out with someone in your comment section on the poly leafpool vid

YEAA I wrote hurt/comfort thingie of them sorry I went insane and passed out like five times writing this LOL

also I think that u and the romance arc u had in my comments section was beautiful 11/10 :)))/j polyam leafpool isn’t the bane of my existence not all alll/j /lh

anywayz cw for nightmares it’s a little spooky

Hulking, contorting creatures blotted Goosefeather’s view. They shrieked and hissed, writhing around in the pitch black sky. Before long, They slowly disappeared into the darkness, clunking heavy round paws against the floor. At every corner there was a strange, unfamiliar cat, acting out some sort of scenario. There was a ginger tom engulfed in flames, a scarlet soaked tabby with a stake through his heart, a badger looming over the bleeding body of dark gray she-cat, all things Goosefeather had no context for. 

What did they all mean? How could he use any of this information for anything? Goosefeather turned away and ran hard, his paws skidding against the ground. Then he realized he wasn’t running on the ground at all. He was in a black void, images of events yet to come swirling around his feeble pelt. They crowded against his head, begging to be listened to. The noise boomed inside of the medicine cat’s skull, curling around his brain, and stabbing it agonizingly. Goosefeather howled in pain and terror, but when he swiped at the figures, his claws cut through their forms like mist. He couldn’t make them go away. He was powerless. He cupped his trembling paws over his ears, but the sounds slipped through the cracks. They sounded even more outraged. The noise reached a terrifying crescendo and Goosefeather screeched. 

“STOP!” 

Goosefeather’s eyes shot wide open and he wheezed out a shaking breath. The other medicine cats were still sound asleep, beside him. None of them looked to be having terrible dreams, they all looked completely at ease. It was only him. The ThunderClan healer sat up, his breaths coming in short bursts. Oh StarClan, why? Why are you doing this to me, specifically? Goosefeather wailed internally, knowing he would never get a reasonable response. I can’t do anything about my visions, what’s the point of sending them to me? Old anger bubbled beneath his pelt and he felt his fur begin to rise. 

He squinted as he turned to the Moonstone, the bright light dazzling his bleary eyes. He imagined it collapsing into a pile of rubble, its glow fading and reducing the cave to pitch black darkness. Well not complete darkness, Goosefeather thought spitefully, staring up at the ceiling hole above. The stars glittered coldy in the cloudless night sky. Moonlight seeped through the opening, and down into the cramped cave. Even if the Moonstone was gone, StarClan would still find a way to slip a sign into his normal life. It had happened before. 

They would always be watching him. He could never truly run from the star’s foul, vigilant gaze. Eyes would always prick his pelt, his paw steps would always have been foretold, and every hair on his pelt wasn’t his. 

He was the heaven’s plaything. 

Goosefeather wanted to implode in frustration. He wanted to march right up to whoever ran the rat-pit that was StarClan, and demand why he had been cursed.  Why he had to live like this, drowning in visions, when every other healer only got a dose of it. 

Why me? Why me? Why me?

Goosefeather tore at the floor beneath him, but there was nothing to shred, only cold, scuffed stone. His claws scraped painfully against rock as he rapidly flailed his arms, struggling to hold back his enraged hisses. 

After he got tired of that, Goosefeather sank to the ground defeatedly. He wanted to go home and curl up in his nest, but he had to wait for his apprentice, Featherwhisker. The tom was sleeping a few tail lengths away from him, his young face peacefully still. A pang of jealousy jabbed at Goosefeather’s heart as he glared at his snoozing form. 

Why cant I be like that? Why can’t I have normal dreams? He swallowed, trying to bury the feelings of envy towards his apprentice’s good fortune. 

It’s not his fault, StarClan doesn’t hate him. 

Goosefeather let out a hoarse sigh, and buried his face into his paws. His eyes watered and hot tears rolled down his cheeks, dampening the gray fur on his face. Little gutteral animal-like noises erupted from his mouth, and he pressed his paws over it, trying to keep quiet. He sobbed into his pads, his whole face contorting into an ugly cry. Eventually, the noises died down in volume, though his throat burned painfully from the outburst. He rubbed his paws at his face, trying to wipe away the tears and snot. I’m acting like such a fussy kit! He chided himself, though he kept on whimpering. 

“Goose?” A low, confused voice sounded from his left side. Goosefeather looked up with a sniffle. 

Sagewhisker, the ShadowClan medicine cat, was sitting up in her spot, her yellow eyes blinking as she adjusted to being awake. She was Goosefeather’s romantic partner, his mate. A tiny inkling of warmth stirred inside of Goosefeather’s belly. She stood up and padded over to him, her long limbs gracefully stepping around several of her slumbering companions. Her white fur glowed under the Moonstone’s light, making her look ghostly. Goosefeather shivered and tucked his paws beneath himself, blinking away the last of his tears. 

Sagewhisker curled up next to him, reaching out a sleek white paw. 

“Oh Goose, why are you awake? Did you have more visions?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? When don’t I have more visions!” Goosefeather grunted, flicking his tail irritably. Sagewhisker was silent for a moment, her ears twitching in response to his abrasiveness. Her paw lingered uncertainly in the air. A wave of piercing shame ran through Goosefeather’s pelt. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He meowed in a quieter tone, ducking his head. “I’m not over it still.” Sagewhisker’s eyes filled with warmth. 

“You don’t have to be. I understand.” She meowed softly, placing her paw on his shoulder. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

Goosefeather shifted in place for few heartbeats before nodding silently.

 “Okay.”

He inched closer to her, and leaned over to press against her pelt. She shifted her position, making it so Goosefeather could rest his head on her flank while she craned her neck to face him. Goosefeather felt immensely comforted by her presence. She was real and infallible. Sagewhisker wouldn’t harm or terrorize him. He was safe, even just for a moment. Goosefeather sucked in a laborious breath. He started telling his partner all about the wretched dream he had bore witness to. The visions of cats yet to be born. The awful noise of their stories  pounding inside his skull. The endless, dark void he thought he would never escape from. Sagewhisker listened patiently, her expression calm as he spilled out his woes.

“I don’t know why StarClan keeps sending me these awful nightmares! I can’t even do anything about it! No one will listen to me, and Cloudberry taught me to not meddle with fate! As if she knew anything about it!” Foam flecked at the corners of Goosefeather’s mouth as he ranted. Sagewhisker rasped her tongue soothingly behind his ears, nodding quietly. Goosefeather sniffled, pressing his head harder against his mate’s flank. 

“I don’t know what to do, Sagewhisker. The visions won’t stop. I can’t control them. Everywhere I turn, it’s foul omen after foul omen. I scare my clanmates. Even my own sister.” Goosefeather swallowed painfully, his eyes beginning to water once more. 

“I’m going to live like this forever.” 

Sagewhisker stopped licking the back of his ears. Her expression was steely as she looked down at him with her marigold-yellow eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Goosefeather. You don’t deserve StarClan’s ire one bit. Whichever gaggle of spirit cats decided to give you this gift are bat-blind, and just as foolish in death as they probably were in life.” Her expression hardened with anger. 

“If they keep sending you these dreadful messages, I think you should have some sort of plan for calming down after the ordeal.“ 

Goosefeather tipped his head. “Like what?”

“Take deep, slow breaths after you see something. Don’t let it get a hold of and consume you. Another thing I’ve found that can distract you, is clawing pictures into the dirt. I know it sounds kit-like, but it’s helped me before. It takes your mind off things for a good while. Maybe chew on some honeycomb or drink moss water mixed with chamomile too, I’ve heard it’s good for unwinding. You could even ask Featherwhisker to help you get some. Or take a stroll in the forest and find it yourself. It sounds simple but, a good walk can really help clear your head.” 

Goosefeather blinked, feeling a smidge skeptical. “Are you sure those will work? I don’t know…” Goosefeather trailed off with a huff. Sagewhisker laid her tail gently on his spine. 

“Listen, why don’t you meet me at the ShadowClan border two sunrises from now? I can show you how to do all of these things. We can even test out other strategies. I know it can be daunting, believe me. I know. But it’s important to get into at least one of these habits so the stress doesn’t overwhelm you. StarClan can’t disappear, but we can find methods to help you accommodate and cope.” Sagewhisker nudged Goosefeather’s forehead with her muzzle. 

“Okay, I don’t see why not.” Goosefeather said in a gruff voice. “But you’ll help me with everything, right?” Sagewhisker nodded. “I will, I promise.” Goosefeather twitched his tail approvingly, but then he felt his face fall. 

“What about my clanmates? And my sibling, Moonflower?” Goosefeather’s voice began to tremble again. “They hate me.”

Sagewhisker’s eyes rounded. Goosefeather readied himself for more uplifting encouragement, but a snarl escaped the white she-cat’s jaws. “Then they are toad-brained crow-food eaters. How dare, they shun you without even bothering to listen to what you have to say? You’re the medicine cat for a reason! You’re a skilled healer, yet they all can’t see that past the bridge of their noses. I’m sorry about your sister, perhaps there’s still a chance to mend things with her, but the others… If they dislike you, than that’s on them. I know you, Goosefeather. Quite well. It’s a shame they don’t want to too.” 

Goosefeather felt his skin burn beneath his pelt,  jolts of surprise poking at his body. He twisted his head around to stare at Sagewhisker, who was huffing. She took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. After a minute, she looked back at Goosefeather, her shiny yellow eyes gleaming. 

“Anything you need, Goose, I’m there. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll always be a border away.” 

“Okay.” Goosefeather mumbled, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion.  Feeling as if the metaphorical clouds had cleared, he meowed quietly. “Thanks.” 

Sagewhisker touched her pink nose to his cheek. “Anytime. I care about you, Goosefeather. A lot. I want you to remember that.”

Goosefeather’s chest warmed and he pressed his muzzle into her fur affectionately. Gratitude and love for his mate swept through his body, flooding it with the first overload of positive emotion he had felt in weeks. “I know.” A weak purr rumbled in his throat. “I do too.” 

Sagewhisker brushed her thin muzzle along the side of his face. Goosefeather closed his eyes, trying to drink in as much of the moment as he could. He was safe and happy right now. Sagewhisker, the cat whom he loved dearly, was nuzzling him fondly. 

No visions, no spirit cats, no terrible things beyond his comprehension were plaguing his mind right now. Only comfort and genuine love. The warm, fuzzy thoughts bounced around inside his brain. It would keep him occupied, but only a for bit. He knew he would spiral again soon. But the thought was slightly less terrifying. At the end of the day, he would be reassured of one fact. He would always have someone in his corner that would help and support him; Sagewhisker. 

The ThunderClan medicine cat felt himself smile as Sagewhisker rested her head overtop his.  The warm weight made him feel like a kit again, bundled up in the nursery in piles of cozy moss. Goosefeather blinked, a strange feeling of bliss overtaking his senses for a heartbeat. His eyes darted toward the Moonstone. It seemed to burn even more brightly than before, and he squinted at the harsh glare. The light was seeming to rise in brilliance, though the moonlight wasn’t increasing; the glow within the stone itself was. Goosefeather blinked. When he opened his eyes, the excess rays and shine were gone. It looked normal again.

 Goosefeather felt like he had been drenched in ice-cold water. 

He turned away and buried his face into Sagewhisker’s neck fur, making her meow softly in surprise. Joke’s on you, STARCLAN. I’m going to keep being mates with her, no matter what you say. She’s cared for me more than you fox-hearts have. We’re happy together, and you can’t change that. I won’t let you. You can send me all the omens in the world, but I won’t let you ruin this for me!

Sagewhisker’s muzzle brushed his ear. 

“Are you alright, dear?”

Goosefeather looked up at her with a crooked smile.

“I’m more than alright, Sage. Thank you.” He pressed his snout back into her moss-soft pelt, making her purr. 

Don’t touch a hair on my pelt, StarClan, they all belong to Sagewhisker now. 

#goosefeather #sagewhisker #sagegoose #goosesage #ask #goobiestar #warrior cats #wc #warriors #writing prompt requests #writing #codysight writing #fanfic #fanfiction #featherwhisker #thunderclan #shadowclan #Also btw I heart polyam leafpool but some of the comments (not urs) make me explode JWJKW

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 9

Word count: 736

Before Squirrelflight could step into the den, Leafpool emerged, a welcoming smile on her face. She could only guess her sister had heard or scented her before she reached the den. The deputy dipped her head, returning the smile. 

“Come on in,” Leafpool instructed. “I’ve got some poppy seeds set aside for you.” 

Letting out a low purr of thanks, Squirrelflight followed her sister into the den. The same overlapping herb-scents that had cluttered her senses earlier yet again began to assault her nose. She tried her best to ignore the sharp scents that made her eyes begin to water. Squirrelflight had no clue how the healers could stand it, particularly Jayfeather, who had proven time and again his sense of smell was rather strong.

Compared to the dappled sunlight that filled the den in the day, the shadows that filled every corner of the den made it seem like a different place entirely. The strangeness of it filled Squirrelflight with a sense of unease. She wondered how her kin could stand sleeping alone in a shadowy stone den rather than surrounded by the warmth of their clanmates. 

Shaking the thought from her head, the ginger she-cat trotted over to where Leafpool waited beside the small pool of water inside the den. A broad glossy leaf lay at her paws, holding three poppy seeds. The tabby she-cat nudged the dose of sleep aid toward her sister. Gratefully, Squirrelflight lowered her head and lapped up the seeds, careful to swallow all three.

 “That should help you sleep a bit better tonight,” Leafpool said brightly, laying her tail across the ginger she-cat’s shoulders comfortingly. Squirrelflight nodded, having no doubt that the poppy seeds would help her fall asleep quickly. 

She was, however, unsure if it would help with the strange dreams. She wasn’t sure they even were just dreams. 

Nevertheless, she kept her worries to herself. She was certain she could handle it, just as she had handled every other unfortunate event in her life, from losing her home, to the Great Battle. Just like every other misfortune she’d encountered, Squirrelflight would face it, and come out stronger. 

“Thank you, Leafpool,” she mewed.

Within the time Leafpool had ushered Squirrelflight in and treated her, Jayfeather had settled into his nest, and was now glaring at the two she-cats. “That’s all well and good,” he called. “But some cats are trying to sleep.” 

Squirrelflight couldn’t help but smile. No matter what changed, there were always going to be somethings that remained the same, like Jayfeather’s attitude. “I should be going,” the deputy murmured to her sister. “I can’t show up at the Gathering looking like I haven’t slept in a moon.” 

Lowering her head, Squirrelflight rested her muzzle against Leafpool’s shoulder for a heartbeat, then stood and turned toward the entrance to the den. Meowing a quiet farewell, the ginger she-cat slunk out of the den. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Squirrelflight began making her way to the warrior’s den. She was quite aware that she would likely never spend another night in the leader’s den. Not that it mattered to her anymore, which it certainly didn’t. She’d made her decision to give up on Bramblestar, as he had obviously given up on her. 

The poppy seeds seemed to be doing their job. With every passing moment, Squirrelflight found herself having less and less energy to care what Bramblestar did or thought. Her jaws stretched open in a wide yawn that she could not contain. 

Hurrying the last few paces to the warrior’s den, the deputy ducked inside the cozy space, setting her sight on her nest toward the center of the group. Carefully, she weaved her way around the other cats, some already sleeping, others simply settling down for the night. 

She reached her nest, flopping down onto the moss as though her body was made from the same stone as the walls of the hollow. Sleep was closing in on her, quicker than she expected. 

Just before slipping into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness, she managed to curl up, tucking her nose under her front paws and wrapping her fluffy tail around herself. Her eyes fluttered closed as she finally gave way to sleep. 

Mere moments later, her bright green eyes flicked open, taking in the sight of a warm fragrant meadow, filled with tall grass and wildflowers. Wreathing around her was the scent of the starless sky.

#warriors fanfic #bramblestar #leafpool #jayfeather #mapleshade #squirrelflight #squirrelflight x mapleshade #squirrelshade

[survey--s]

634.

Name all the pets you’ve ever had. I never had any growing up, but as an adult I've had Gizmo and Athena who were sibling tabby cats. I had to leave them with my ex when we split up, though. Then when Mike and I got together, we got Layla (a little black kitten), Purrlock (a black rescue cat) and Toby (black kitten). We lost Layla in May and we now have Simba who is a ginger tabby kitten. We also have Archie the beagle who is five.

Are you on break, or do you still have a couple days of school left? I haven't been in any kind of education since 2011.

Do you like Stephen King novels? I've actually never read any of them, or seen any of his films.

Have you ever had a macaroon? Yes, and a macaron. Macaroons remind me of my childhood.

One of my friends dislikes animals in general. Are you like her? No. My dad is one of those people though, lol. He tolerates my love of animals but it's why I was never allowed a pet growing up.

Do you prefer being on time, or do you not mind being late? I HATE being late. I'm always early or on time unless I have absolutely no other choice.

What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? (ex: skydive) Travel to outer space.

Have you ever made a bucket list? No.

What subject at school did you absolutely hate? Chemistry.

How many cell phones have you gone through up till now? I think seven or eight, maybe. Which is pretty good going considering I've owned some kind of phone for the last 20+ years.

Italian food or Chinese food? I love both. I think overall I prefer Italian though.

Do you have more than the standard earlobe piercings? Yes - three in each earlobe, one in my right cartilage, my nose and my belly button (though I don't wear jewellery in the latter anymore as it kept getting infected).

Ever studied a foreign language? I did a degree in French, and I also studied German for a while. My dad taught me a bit of Italian as a kid too.

Don’t you hate it when your family eats all the ice cream at home? My mum always used to do that and it drove me insane.

Ever been in a near death situation? If so, what happened? Hmm, no, I wouldn't say so.

Do you like to make flash cards when you study? No.

Favorite flavor of gum? Spearmint.

Do you tend to be frugal, or are you more comfortable spending money? I have no real need to be frugal as we don't struggle financially. But saying that, I'm not really that materialistic and only tend to spend money on stuff I need, or stuff that's practical/for the house.

Do you have a connection to any religion? No.

Ever played a team sport, or are you not sporty at all? I was on all the sports teams in school but I never really enjoyed it.

Do you put posters on your bedroom walls? No. I did as a teenager though.

Do you sleep with one leg sticking out of the covers? Sometimes, yeah.

I have extremely weird, frightening dreams. Do you? Not frightening, but my dreams are definitely on the weird side.

Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? No, because I am not. <--- haha yep, same.

Ever been to the Big Apple? If not, do you want to visit? No, but I'd love to visit one day.

Opinion on Gangnam Style? It's catchy and a pretty good song, really.

Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No.

Did you ever watch the Lizzie McGuire movie? Yep, multiple times ha.

If you did, do you know what the guy that played Gordo looks like now? (ew) Why ew?That's harsh, lol. Anyway, I've just googled him and he looks normal to me?

How many email accounts do you have? Two.

Ever shamelessly played Farmville on Facebook? No, I never really got into Farmville.

Are you a big fan of dessert? Not really. There are a few kinds I love but generally I'd rather have a starter.

Ever had a brush with the paranormal? If so, describe. No.

Were you one of the popular kids in high school? Nope, definitely not lol.

I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. I don't really strongly dislike anyone. I either like you or I'm generally apathetic towards you lol.

Do you know the band Vampire Weekend? I've heard of them, yeah.

What do you think about Marilyn Manson? He's a dodgy fucker. He's been accused of all sorts of shit.

In general, do you prefer going out or staying home? It really depends, there is no "in general" because there are so many different variables.

Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? I honestly never got into trouble at school.

Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? No.

Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? Why would it bother me?

Favorite pair of shoes? Probably my black ballet shoes or my grey ankle boots.

Where were you on 9/11? In French class in year...8, it must have been. Any food in particular you just can’t get enough of? Pizza, bread, potatoes.

Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? No, they weren't really a thing here.

Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? I do. It sucks. Yeppp. I hate it.

Are you a fan of British Youtubers? (Marcus Butler, JacksGap, etc) I don't watch YouTubers of any nationality, lol.

Jalapeños: yay or nay? Nay. I can't stand spicy food.

Did you ever play Minecraft? I tried and it just gave me a headache lol.

Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I played it a few times.

Favorite concerts you’ve been to? Did you scream until you were hoarse? Plain White T's or Lily Allen, and no.

So where were you when the Boston Marathon bombing happened? I don't remember. At home probably, or work?

Rainy days on the weekend: yay or nay? It depends whether I have plans or not.

Do you look down on girls that wear shorts with Uggs? No, but then again, nobody wears Uggs anymore.

Californian girls talk and dress a certain way, don’t they? I mean, sure, but that's true of people from any part of the country.

Ever crushed on a teacher? If so, what subject did he/she teach? No. I never understood that lol.

Ever take an art class? If so, what’d you think? I did art in school until GCSE's. I quite liked it.

#survey #surveys

[merri-angry]

If Fire were to Change its Course

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Constructive criticism encouraged^^

Multifandom Warriors AU, main cats from LOTF but mentioned cats from other fandoms/OCs

Also not going to lie I didn't know what else to name this, so sorry if the title doesn't fit.

TW: talks about battle and death(not in detail)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Dang, sucks that you have to help the medicine cats," a dark ginger apprentice meowed as he entered the apprentice's den, even though helping the medicine cats would not suck.

"What are you talking about, Jackpaw?" The dark brown tabby confusingly looked at his denmate, before letting out a loud yawn.

"You were asleep when Schlattstar announced it, Mauricepaw," a sandy cat walked in, who made Mauricepaw jump. "What were you thinking? Letting an Iceclan cat take prey from our territory?"

"Ralphpaw, the prey came from their side of the territory!" Mauricepaw got up and shook loose moss from his coat.

"But then it entered our territory, making it our prey," Jackpaw commented. "Anyways, better hurry before your mentor gets mad."

"Jaypounce isn't that mean, if he was he would have convinced Schlattstar to make Mauricepaw do something worse than gathering herbs," Ralphpaw meowed as Mauricepaw left the den.

In the clearing, it was as if a battle hadn't happened two days ago. As if Ralphpaw hadn't just...

"You ok?" Mauricepaw looked to see a black cat with green eyes. On its head, was a stray marigold.

"Yep!" Mauricepaw cheerfully smiled. "Not going to lie, I've been still thinking about the battle."

"Do you have any wounds that are still bothering you?" The cat asked. Mauricepaw shook his head. "Well, Haloheart said that I should know enough that we can go out on our own to find herbs."

"Ooo, do you think how well we do is going to be an assessment for you?" Mauricepaw asked as the two started heading out of camp.

"I guess? Medicine cats don't really have assessments- unless treating patients counts," the cat said, before suddenly noticing the marigold on their head and shaking it off.

"Mkkk, oh- Simonpaw- what's this?" Mauricepaw noticed a familiar-looking herb, with green stalks.

"Thyme, useful to calm shock," It answered. "Also one of the herbs that we are low on, the old ones got stale."

Mauricepaw nodded before starting to pluck stalks. As he did that, he noticed Simonpaw shifting nervously.

"Do you think there will be a day when everything in Fireclan changes?" Simonpaw nervously asked. Mauricepaw paused what he was doing to look at him.

"Of course there will, not everyone will be able to tolerate the way our current leader leads- one day a battle will go too far and a warrior will stand up to him."

"How can we be sure cats won't keep leaving?" Simonpaw's question caused Mauricepaw to freeze for a second. "Quackfeather left after Schlattstar killed Slimespot, Jackpaw's parents left without notice..."

"I'm sure there are cats who really care about Fireclan, who won't let it burn to the ground," Mauricepaw wasn't sure if the words he was speaking were for Simonpaw or himself. "One day Fireclan will become better. No more wars for nothing, no more plannings to drive Iceclan out, it will be just like any other normal clan."

"But I had a dream," Simonpaw admitted. "There was a lot of fighting... It seemed as if the clan was split into two sides! Each being led by on cat..."

"Maybe it was a prophecy about two specific cats fighting," Mauricepaw meowed.

"... Maybe," Simonpaw frowned, obviously not agreeing with Mauricepaw.

"Honestly, do you think any cat would have the power to split up our clan?" Mauricepaw meowed before jokingly saying. "Well, maybe Ralphpaw and Jackpaw by the way the two of them fight. They always somehow get me, Rogerpaw, or Hollypaw involved..."

Simonpaw stayed silent for a few moments before smiling, "thanks for listening and stuff, I feel a lot better now that I've at least talked about my dream."

Mauricepaw grinned, "no problem! Always feel free to talk to me, especially since I know you'd let me talk to you."

Simonpaw muttered something Mauricepaw couldn't hear before meowing, "just to let you know, tomorrow I will be joining you guys with battle training."

"Battle training?" Mauricepaw echoed.

"Yeah, medicine cats also need to know how to defend themselves- you mouse brain," Simonpaw joked lightly.

"Ohhhh, true," Mauricepaw's response made Simonpaw purr with amusement.

"Let's get back to collecting herbs," Simonpaw suggested.

#lord of the flies #lotf #CSS Multifandom Warriors AU

[books-and-catears]

Can I request Satan with cat magnet reader

You mean Satan's IDEAL type? Of course you can. Thank you so much for this ask. This is gonna be fun to write!

Purrfect Partner

"Hello MC, I'm back, did you wait long-" Satan stopped in his tracks watching the scene infront of him.

He first saw this ability of yours during your first trip around Devildom with him. He had only been gone for a few minutes, to freshen up nearby.

And when he came back, you had every cat in the vicinity, nuzzling up against your legs or laying on your lap with you patting them gently.

"How...?"

Satan stood there his mouth agape. He only came back to his senses after a few cats scampered over to him.

"Do you somehow have catnip on you, MC?" He asked after a pause.

"Not at all. I didn't even know there were cats in Devildom. Let alone this many." You looked far from suprised. You picked up a black kitten and placed it on your shoulder. "I wish I brought more food for you, little darlings."

Satan smiled. "You really know your way around cats, huh? Have some back at home?"

"Strays mostly. I always carried food around because somehow huge bunches of them gathered around me whenever they were close."

"Wait...this is a usual occurence for you?!" Satan was taken aback. And as you nodded and cradled a ginger tabby, his hands shook in excitement. You were officially his favourite being in the world now.

He refused to leave the house without you. In fact, he'd make up stupid excuses to get you to go out.

It started as a walk around the park and returning library books. And now it was to simply observe a peculiar snake that was lying deathly still on the road.

"That's just a tree branch, Satan." You laughed.

"I swear it was moving yesterday." He said while two cats perched on his shoulder. This was his personal heaven.

He didn't stop there. He third wheeled your outings with his brothers shamelessly.

"Oi Satan! What's the big idea following me and MC and me around like this?!" Mammon snapped.

"To protect MC from any witches that might come to collect their debt from you." Satan said simply, petting the cat lying belly up in your lap.

"I can protect MC myself, you cat-obessesed prick!"

"Satan. Come to the entrance immediately." Lucifer's voice booked across the whole house.

Satan was in the middle of conversation with you about various personalities of cats.

"What the hell does that pompous arse want now? Excuse me, MC. Please sit tight, I'll be right back." He begrudgingly arrived at the entrance.

"What do you want now, Lucifer?"

"Perhaps you can explain this." Lucifer gritted his teeth and held the door open.

Satan gasped audibly. It seemed like all the cats of Devildom had come to the House of Lamentation at once. The large chorus of mewling and purring was music to his ears.

"This must be a dream..." Satan laughed and picked up one that snuck in through the door. "I didn't even try to summon you yet!"

Lucifer shook his head. "Snap out of it, Satan. Undo whatever horrid spell you seem to have cast or there will be consequences."

"Like I said I haven't done anything." Satan said, "I was literally up in my room all evening, talking to MC-"

MEAAOWWWW!

It was like your name was a spell. Merely at the sound of it, the rest of the cats barged in through the unlocked doors and windows at once.

Lucifer had long toppled over and Satan watched in awe as most of them raced upstairs. He followed them up only to find them in your room. Sitting still, waiting.

Had they all come specefically for YOU?

"Ah never a dull moment in this house." Solomon laughed as he appeared in the doorway. "I see MC's still having a hard time supressing the intensity of their cat affinity."

"Cat affinity? Is it a magical skill you can learn?!" Satan was more than eager.

"Not at all. Some humans have a natural affinity to animals. Most of them have a more balanced affinity to all species. But few humans have a specific affinity. Because of which it is more intense than the general ones. Essentially MC seems to be a cat magnet." Solomon explained.

"Is that why you came here? To provide convenient exposition?" Levi appeared at the end of the hallway, three cats clinging onto his clothes. "Can MC call these off me already?!"

And soon there were screams of suprise and shock ringing throughout the house.

"You can't chew on my leather jacket! Do you know expensive that is, you stupid cat?!"

"STOOOP! How could you pee in my room like this!?"

"Lucifer! We're out of milk! Looks like the cats drank it all! And they're going for the rest of the food now!"

"Stop sleeping on my damn face! Go bother Satan instead!"

"SATAN FIX THIS MESS IMMEDIATELY OR ELSE -"

"Well well it seems MC has an affinity for chaos too." Solomon grinned as picked up a few kitties himself as the others crowded around Satan's room where you sat clueless.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me imagine #obey me levi #obey me solomon #obey me crack #obey me funny

[catgirlthecrazy]

AO3

A follow up to my earlier post about not nearly enough CR fics using the Dream spell.

****

Long distance relationships, Caleb decided, could really suck balls sometimes. Teleportation wasn't always practical, and even with the ability to send messages across the Divine Gate itself… nothing could quite compare to the joys of simply being with the one you loved.

He closed the door to his apartment with a sigh. A chorus of demanding meows greeted him, and couldn't help but smile. Felix the ginger tabby flopped on his belly exposed in a plaintive demand for pets. Agatha the tuxedo shorthair leapt from a chair straight onto his back, draping herself like a very heavy scarf. Bran Uss the tortoiseshell padded up him, shrieking loud comments. "Hello my darlings," Caleb murmured in Zemnian. He crouched down to give them their demanded attention. "I'm sorry it's just me tonight. Essek had to leave, and I don't know when he'll be back."

For a time, Caleb let himself bask in the distraction of feeding and petting three noisy, demanding cats. Soft fur under his fingers and warm purring in his ears soothed the ache in his soul. At least no matter what happened, he would never come home to an empty house.

He was half way through preparing his own dinner when Essek's voice entered his mind.

Found a hiding place. Am safe for now. Thanks again for the warning. Any news on that bounty hunter? Give the cats my regrets.

Caleb smiled despite himself. Even in a straightforward request for information, hearing Essek's voice felt like a lifeline. "No word yet. Not sure they're really even in the city, but Beau and I will keep looking. The cats miss you terribly."

It was Beau who'd first given them the warning. Agents of the Cobalt Soul had heard an interesting report. One of Wildemount's highest paid bounty hunters, a drow woman known to work both sides of the Ashkeeper Peaks, had (possibly) arrived in Rexxentrum in disguise that week. It could have been rumor. Nothing more than paranoid denizens of the Rexxentrum underworld, spreading tales. It could have been true, but unrelated to Essek. He was far from the only person in Rexxentrum that someone with money might want found.

But Essek hadn't evaded capture this long by taking foolish risks. Five minutes after Caleb Sent to him, he was gone, off to one of several bolt holes scattered across Exandria.

As Caleb retrieved a bowl for the soup, he noticed the elegant purple bottle tucked away in the back of the cabinet. The label depicted a stylized figure of a drow woman dancing with a sword, silver hair long enough to obscure her naked body. It was just about impossible to find on this side of Wynandir. And this vintage was especially rare. Even in Rosohna, the merchants charged prices that would have made even Beau's family blush.

He'd planned to surprise Essek with the bottle tonight. An anniversary present. Caleb's husband didn't miss much about his homeland, but he'd made more than one wistful comment about the virtues of moonberry wine. Not for the first time, it struck Caleb as horribly ironic that he, an obvious Empire citizen, could walk freely under Rosohna's eternally dark sky, while Essek, a son of one of the Dynasty's ruling Dens, could only do so in disguise and at great personal risk. But if it helped him buy gifts for his husband, then Caleb wouldn't complain.

This gift would have to wait, though. There was no telling when it would be safe for Essek to come back to Rexxentrum. Nor could Caleb go to him. By mutual agreement, Essek never told him where any of his bolt holes were, and Caleb never asked. If anyone thought to ask Caleb where Essek might be hiding, it was safer for all concerned if he could truthfully answer I don't know.

Caleb ate his dinner without much enthusiasm, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. It felt like homesickness, without ever leaving home. Caleb was deep into his morose thoughts some hours later, when Essek sent to him again. I have a new spell I think could help us. Could you Send to me when you're about to sleep? Do not use the Tower.

Caleb's eyebrows shot up. That was interesting. What spell could Essek have that could help them that required Caleb to be asleep? And that Essek could cast from possibly half a world away?

He cleared his throat. "Ja, I can do that. I plan to read for a bit, but I'll probably be in bed in an hour or two." He didn't bother asking what the spell was. He didn't want to make Essek use up more spell slots on Sending, and odds were it would be too complicated to explain in 25 words anyways.

Still, Caleb entertained himself by trying to guess what Essek might be planning. If Caleb needed to be asleep, that implied it targeted him in some way. Essek was not in Rexxentrum, probably not even on Wildemount, so whatever it was could also affect him over vast distances. But if Essek specifically needed him to not be in the Tower, that implied it couldn't cross planar boundaries. It also couldn't be harmful in any way, or else Essek wouldn't be testing it on him. Caleb didn't flatter himself that he knew every spell ever invented, but the number that fit all those criteria wasn't high. It was an interesting puzzle that kept him occupied for the rest of the evening.

As Caleb got ready for bed, he wondered if that wasn't the point. Essek probably guessed how Caleb was feeling, and he knew that a good intellectual problem was one of the few things that could reliably distract him from his melancholy moods. The thought soothed some of the ache in Caleb's heart.

"I'm in bed now, Schatz," Caleb sent as he tucked himself beneath the covers. Various cats arranged themselves on the covers around him. Felix mrrped, tail twitching. He was probably annoyed that his favorite sleeping spot, wedged between Caleb and Essek's bodies, was unavailable. "I'll be asleep soon. Will I be able to tell if you've cast your spell?"

Essek's reply was short and simple. You'll know.

***

The first thing Caleb was aware of after closing his eyes, was the sound of a crackling fire. Not the monstrous inferno that sometimes haunted his nightmares, but a warm, friendly flame that lived in a hearth. He blinked his eyes, and found himself staring out a window at a familiar landscape. Majestic white mountains all around a lush valley, a city nestled at the base, a castle lording above it like a shepherd over the flock. At the town's center, a magnificent tree, branches reaching towards the sun, crowned with leaves red and yellow and gold.

Caleb knew that view. He'd been here before. He turned and saw a familiar room: large roaring fireplace, comfortable couches, thick fit dog, sturdy writing desk under the window. On the wall, someone had hung a chalkboard and filled it with complex magical equations in two sets of handwriting. A familiar dark coat hung by the door.

Caleb knew that view. He'd been here before. He turned and saw a familiar room: large roaring fireplace, comfortable couches, thick fur rug, sturdy writing desk under the window. On the wall, someone had hung a chalkboard and filled it with complex magical equations in two sets of handwriting. A familiar dark coat hung by the door.

It was the cottage that Essek had rented after fleeing Vurmas. The one Caleb had visited him in after his first semester teaching. Their first proper vacation as a couple.

Except… it couldn't be. Essek had abandoned this place years ago. New tenants would have moved in, put their own stamp on the place over his.

Hesitantly, Caleb reached out to touch the nearest solid thing- a thick, brightly colored blanket draped on the couch. The coarse wool felt rough and textured against the pads of his fingers. Exactly as he remembered.

Some details were wrong though. The landscape painting over the mantle was an impressionist blur, but the original had been marvelously detailed. The window was a bit wider than Caleb remembered. The wool blanket was a simple red-and-yellow checker pattern, when it should have been a more complex tartan.

"Am I dreaming?" That Caleb could even ask himself that question suggested not. But he couldn't think of any other explanation.

Caleb hadn't expected an answer, but he got one anyway.

"In a sense, yes. But you are right that this is not a normal dream."

Caleb whirled around to see Essek floating behind him. He hadn't been there a moment ago. He was dressed in clothes that Caleb didn't recognize. Vaguely Marquesian in style, looking decidedly out of place against the mountain lodge decor.

"That's… that's really you, isn't it?" Caleb reached out a hand hesitantly, then stopped. What if he was wrong? What if Essek puffed away in a cloud of dream smoke at the first touch?

Essek solved his dilemma by taking Caleb's hand in his. Long, slender fingers felt wonderfully warm and solid against Caleb's calloused knuckles. "It's me. This is not a creation of your mind. I've picked up a new spell. One that lets me enter your dreams."

Caleb suppressed a wince. "That was a risky thing to do, Schatz. My dreams are not always as pleasant as this."

Essek looked at him fondly, fingers tracing tender circles on the back of his hand. "It also lets me shape your dreams as I see fit. So long as I am here, I hope to make your dreams nothing but pleasant."

Caleb let that sink in. This room, this place… it hadn't come from Caleb's mind. It came from Essek's. No wonder some details were wrong. Essek didn't have Caleb's perfect memory.

He'd gotten the important parts right, though. "Is that why you've gone and recreated our honeymoon?"

"You pour so much of your heart into your magic." Essek looked down at his feet and shrugged shyly. "I wanted to do the same for you, to the best of my small ability."

Caleb pulled Essek's hands up to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles. From the way Essek shivered, this felt as real to him as it did to Caleb. "You've done beautifully, Schatz. How long do we have?"

"A little less than eight hours, or until you wake up. Whichever comes first."

Caleb sucked in a breath. He'd been expecting the answer to be ten minutes, or maybe an hour if they were lucky. Relatively few spells lasted longer than that. Eight hours, though? With nowhere else to be? Nothing else to do? That felt like walking into a restaurant expecting to pay for a quick bite, only to be informed you were actually getting a three course meal, on the house. "Can you teach me this spell?"

Essek's smile was sweet, but full of regret. "I can, next time we meet in the waking world. But I should warn you that you will not be able to contact me with it, as elves do not dream in the way required by the spell."

Well, that was disappointing. Reluctantly, Caleb shelved a dozen half formed fancies of returning the favor to Essek at some future date. That didn't make the spell comfortably useless though. There were others Caleb loved who were often half a world away, and teleportation wasn't always practical.  "Wait… if elves do not dream, then how are you able to cast this spell at all?"

"The caster does not sleep themselves while performing this spell. I am currently in a trance-like state, but I will still need to rest properly when we are done."

Caleb imagined Essek, sitting cross-legged as he sometimes did when he tranced, alone in a room. The image sent a bolt of fear up his spine. "Are you sure that's wise? A lot of very dangerous people are looking for you. What if they come upon you like this?" Unbidden, the image of bounty hunters circling a catatonic Essek like foxes around a limping rabbit filled his mind. Instinctively, he gripped Essek's hands tighter.

"I am still aware of my physical surroundings. I can end the spell at a moment's notice if I need to. And I have taken certain other precautions, to ensure I am not caught unawares."

Caleb did his best to internalize that. Essek had been successfully evading those who hunted him for years. In fact, at this point he probably had more practice at it than Caleb ever had. If he thought he was safe enough to try this, then he was. "Ok," Caleb said. "If you must end this spell early without explanation, I will understand. Just send to me when you are safe again, ja?"

Essek nodded. "Truth be told, I was looking forward to exploring the precise limits of this spell with you in person." His face fell slightly, pulling Caleb's heart with it. "I am sorry I could not be here with you. I know how much you looked forward to tonight."

"It is what it is. We knew it might be like this when we got married." Caleb pulled Essek in for a hug. He felt so warm and solid under Caleb's touch. "Besides: you are here. In all the ways that matter."

Essek trembled as he returned the hug. "Light, it's like I'm actually holding you. Does it feel as real to you as it does to me?"

"Ja." Caleb buried his nose in the crook of Essek's neck. Gods beyond, even the smell was right: subtle perfume, old paper, and the faint ozone of recent magic.

Long distance relationships still sucked balls. But with a little patience, and a little magic, Caleb could bear it. Essek was worth it.

#critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #my post #my fanfic #cr2