#she even becomes deputy for a while

[thylacid]

hey i know theres that one angsty blorbo cat that like drowned in the dark forest forever angstily or something and i wish i knew about her but i stopped reading warriors after a vision of shadows can you tell me things. i wanna chew her

HI ^_^ UM. I COULD TELL YOU A LOT OF THINGS ABOUT HER BUT THE PROBLEM IS THEYRE MOSTLY STUFF IVE MADE UP BECAUSE HER CANON CHARACTER IS LARGELY JUST "girl protagonist who has romance plot going on" BECAUSE THE ERINS HATE ME SPECIFICALLY (AND ALSO WOMEN)

[the-froschamethyst4]

Spurs and Chaps

𖤐Pairing: Bounty Hunter! König x Outlaw! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, fluff, language, old friend to lovers, enemies to lovers, mention of violence, guns, P in V, age gap, groping, nipple play, badass Y/n, kissing/making out,

𖤐Summary: König the bounty hunter had to bring in outlaw Y/n but does he really have to bring her in?

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"Little lady you must have me as a fool?"

"No, sir."

Y/n puts the tip of her heel into the dirt as she flirts with the man in front of her. She just wanted one thing from this man, his money.

"Oh yes!"

"Fuck," loud moans filled the room, the man trying to keep his pants up as he has Y/n pinned to the wall behind her, he bucks his hips up into her, she moans, gripping his hair and kissing his lips.

They both fell on the soft bed behind the man, Y/n undressing herself, her holster on her thigh containing her pistol, she kisses down his chest to his stomach, one hand guiding down and then other resting on her gun.

He looks down at her and sees her hand on her gun.

"Hey, wait a min-" before he could speak another word, he was shot with a lead bullet between his eyes.

"Fucking disgusting," she says, getting off the guy and grabbing her skirt and dirty tank top, she digs around for his sack of gold and soon found it, she smiles and sticks it inside her shirt. She finds her boots and her long black leather coat, she heads out of the whore house and grabs her hat on the way out.

"Another one bites the dust," she says, opening the satchel on her horse's side sticking the gold sack into with all the others. She starts to sum as she gets on the back of her horse. She clicks her tongue and starts walking out of the bum rusted town.

She was acting cool and collected as if she say didn't just kill someone and robbed them.

----------

"Heard she's in Rosewood...you might want to check there...König."

"Tell me again...who am I after?"

"Her name is Y/n L/n, her bounty the highest I've ever seen, even for a woman, $790,000, not even Bonnie's bounty was this high. Was raised by her father who turned out to be Good Old Cyrus L/n, robbed the whole North City blind, was caught and rotted away in prison. Y/n was taken to an orphanage where she raised herself to become an outlaw, it started off as candy stealing then soon made it's way up from pick pocketing, now, she kills then takes." The Sheriff says.

"Sir, her last slighting was in Rosewood, now she's being on the move," his deputy says.

"Well, then, I guess you better get moving, Bounty Hunter."

"I'll see you when I have her."

"If we see you again," the Sheriff says.

König loaded up his horse, clicked his tongue and went South to Rosewood hoping he'll run into Y/n.

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It's been a few days, and Y/n has settled into a small town called Winslow, it was like her little hideaway, everyone knows who she is, but no one will ever give her away to the Sheriff and his Deputies.

Y/n sits on the back porch of her little home, she was in some jean shorts, and small white tank top that showed off her hardened nipples and her black boots.

Y/n was cleaning her old clothes she worn, she goes back into her lovely home and she grabs some whiskey from her top cabinet and opened the bottle, chugging some of it. Heading back outside to hang the rest of the clothes.

"Y/n..." She stops what she is doing and turns to see.

"König? How's the Bounty Hunting going?" She asked, knowing he's after her.

"Oh you know...I'm here for a little someone," he says.

"Me?" She says, her back turned to him.

"It's been a while, I just wanted to...catch up with you before, I take you to the Sheriff."

"How? Hmm? What could you have in mind, Bounty Hunter," she giggles at him, she stood up to face him, he looks down at her getting a view of her chest.

"You're a tease, just like I remember," he says, putting his hand on her cheek.

König and Y/n were old friends, even though they grew up differently, Y/n was taught to steal and be a bad person and König was taught to be a good guy. Growing up differently but still how became friends. They don't even know how it happened, and when they got older König picked up being a bounty hunter and Y/n was on the run from law enforcement.

Now did König and Y/n have some sort of relationship? Yes. Again they don't know how it happened, it was just a simple one night that turned into 3, then 4, next they they knew it 5, but it had to stop, it would look bad for a bounty hunter to be sleeping with a bounty.

It would ruin König's reputation.

"Did you take the job because of the money or to see me, again?" She asked him.

"I guess the money...I didn't know I was going after you till I was called in to help."

"Called in? You mean, you didn't see my WANTED paper? The Sheriff called you in?"

"Yeah. He asked for...the best of the best," he says.

"I see," she says, she walks past him, her hand sliding on his chest as she was heading inside. "If you want...you can come inside, König."

he smirks and follows her inside the house. She kicked her boots off at the back door.

"Take your shoes off, I don't want dirt tracked through my house."

"Since when did you ever care about the dirt?"

"Since I've lived here, I love my home, and want it clean and nice and neat," she says.

"But you kill for fun."

"And I can keep my personal life out of my work life."

"Killing is work?"

"Yep," she then turns to him. "Tea?"

"Water is fine," he says.

Y/n gave him some water and then watched him chug it, she smirks up at him, she bends down and kisses his chest down to his stomach, lifting his shirt and kissed his toned stomach.

"Liebe (love)."

"Do you think, I'll ruin your reputation?" she asks, looking up at him, he cups her chin.

"You know you will," he says.

"Good," she says, standing up and kissing his lips. She then pulls down his mask, "There's that face, I've missed...I could ruin you so easily," she teased.

"You ruining me? Doubt it," he chuckles.

König picks her up and slams her back to her wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, she then kisses his neck, he groans, he plops on her messy couch.

König then removes his jacket, and removes his shirt, he then tries to unbuckle his pants, but Y/n ends up helping him. Pulling his pants down and taking them off him, she kisses his bulge, he groans, cupping her chin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he says, leaning down kissing her temple, she moves back to laying on top of him.

"I've missed you too," she says, kissing his lips.

His hands roamed over her body. She then sits up and starts removing her clothes, König then helps her removing her tank top and kissed between her breasts. Kissing her breast and licking at her bud.

She moans, holding his head and playing with his hair, and kissing the top of his head. König then messes with her shorts pulling them off.

König pumps himself a few times, before sliding himself into her. She put her head back moaning his name and squeezing around him, he puts his hands on her waist, she starts rocking back and forth, König smirks, the sex was nice, and soft. It's suppose to be meaningless sex, but it's hard when König still loves Y/n.

Y/n looks down him, leaning over him, moving her hair on one side of head and then kissing his lips. She then starts moving a bit faster.

"No, no, keep going slow, take your time, don't rush anything," he says.

"It's just been so long."

"I know," he cups her face and starts kissing her face, then under her chin and then her lips again.

Y/n looks down at him, he slowly starts to sit up, holding her close to his body, as he bucks his hips up but she started to do the work again, bouncing up and down on him.

"God, you feel so good," König says. He loves feeling her gummy walls holding his cock inside of her.

"You do too," she moans, putting her head back. His hands then start going up her chest and squeezing her chest and playing with her nipples. She moans and looks at him.

"Are you g-going to turn me in?" She asked.

"Do you want me to turn you in?"

"No...I want you to myself, I don't want to be in jail," she moans.

"Aww~" he teases her.

Y/n then could feel herself about to cum, König smirks as cum shoots up into Y/n. Y/n smirks and then bounces a bit more and felt herself squirt on his lower stomach.

He smirks, chuckles a bit, Y/n then leans forward and then kissed his lips.

----------

König laid naked on Y/n's bed, Y/n next to him, he could turn her in so easily, but he can't do that to her. König looks over at her and moves her hair from her face.

"You can go if you want to," she says.

"No...not yet...I want to be here with you," he says.

"You can leave."

"No, not yet," he says, moving closer to her and holding her to his chest.

König kisses her forehead and kissed her lips, he holds her close and moves her hair from her face.

-----------

König was on his horse, looking at the house being light up by small lamps, he was leaving for the night, he doesn't know if he'll come back and see her again, but he wonders if he should put a small hold on bounty hunting and come live with Y/n for a little while.

He travels back to West Dale to see the Sheriff and tell him the news.

That he could not find Y/n.

Y/n woke up to no one next to her, she pats the cold empty spot next to her and thought about König, he's been gone for...so many years and now he came back to have sex with her and left, he didn't bring her in, so did he care about her?

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It's been weeks now. Y/n was on her front porch, she was doing some house work, putting up nice plants, around the house.

"Need any help?" Y/n stops and turns to the man's voice.

"König?"

"Have you done any killing lately?" He chuckles.

"Never," she teased.

"Could you help me with the other hanging plants?"

"Sure, liebe (love)."

[spyret-the-shitposter]

and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)

DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called

MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.

STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!

STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat

SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.

WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you

WADDLES - oink?

GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice

BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line

SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.

CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!

GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.

FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually

PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason

ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know

BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.

AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign

TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)

LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default

TIME BABY - does not refer to you

BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????

SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock

(did i forget anybody? let me know)

[sundrop-writes]

would you be willing to do a follow up to the teen wolf pregnancy hcs? something with the characters interacting with their kid - can be as a baby or older - just them being parents and adjusting to being young parents.

i love your writing 💗💗💗

Fyi, I was not even planning on working on requests tonight, but this caught my attention so much and gave me such a good idea that I had to do it. I decided to do it with the same characters from the first part, but if you want to see this prompt with other characters, then I would do the 'how they react to finding out that you're pregnant' part first with different characters

My requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN, but please read my Rules before sending in a request.

Part One - How would they react to finding out that you're pregnant with their baby?

How would the pack act as parents?

Included: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale.

Warnings: fem reader - uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is the one who gave birth to the baby, as in the previous part); Stiles's part is extremely self indulgent and something I have been thinking about since I wrote the last part so bear with me; mentions of breastfeeding, giving birth, teething, and other parenting/baby topics; the baby is a different age and has a different name in each section just for funsies; mention of Lydia and reader's baby having red hair - but I did this to drive home the baby's genetic relation to Lydia and I don't think it has to specify the reader's race (someone with darker skin can still have naturally red hair); Lydia calls the reader 'Mama'; mention of the reader being a werewolf in Derek's part because there is a weird continuity in these reactions (and I should write a full fic about Derek and this reader character cause I am slowly becoming addicted to their story, ngl); I believe that's finally it.

Stiles was panicking. He was officially the worst parent ever - everything his dad said was right. He wasn't ready for this, nobody should be a teen parent, he was a failure. God, his whole life was crumbling around him...

You were out of town because your sister was getting married. You had been incredibly hesitant to leave the baby - sweet, adorable, nine-month-old Lila Stilinski - but Stiles had insisted that you go on a weekend getaway to your sister's bachelorette party. You deserved it. You had spent nine whole months growing his baby and then you had given birth to her (a bloody, messy affair that made him faint - to nobody's surprise), and you had spent the last nine months nursing her and getting your degree from home after you had fought through your pregnancy taking double courses to graduate high school early. You were a gem, a beautiful, shining gem of a woman and a mother, and somehow - while you were off getting your much needed rest and having fun - Stiles had lost your baby.

His baby - his baby that he loved very, very much.

He had woken up that morning, late, having forgotten to set the alarm, and rushed around the apartment like a chicken with his head cut off rushing to get Lila ready for day care and himself ready for school, and he dropped her off as usual, with a smile and kiss on her big beautiful forehead. And when he went to pick her up that afternoon - she was gone. The day care worker couldn't give him any other news than the fact that she had been 'signed out already', and it left Stiles panicking, thinking about that cult that sacrifices babies every single day.

In his rush that morning, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so he couldn't get his dad on the line - and he was currently running at top, lung-crushing speed toward the police station, running past the deputy on duty at the front desk, who simply shrugged and buzzed him in when she saw his bright red face and his clear desperation.

"Dad, D-dad, you have to-!" He was going to ask his father to put out an amber alert, to call every single one of his deputies back to get them looking, but when his father turned around - that sweet girl with the bright purple bow in her hair was in his arms.

Then, Stiles shifted on a dime from panic to anger.

"Dad, what the hell?" He barked out, struggling to sound as pissed off as he was while still trying to catch his breath.

"What?" The Sheriff shrugged, kissing his granddaughter on the forehead before cooing brightly at her, smiling at her with all the brightness in the world, paying Stiles absolutely no mind.

"You took her out of day care without telling me first?" Stiles gaped, absolutely angered that his father had let him believe for even a moment that his girl was missing.

He knew it was a cruel irony - a blunt kind of karma. All the times he had come home late, all the nights he had snuck out believing that his dad was simply being too hard on him for giving him such an early curfew. Now, in a single crashing moment, he instantly understood why his father had worried so much - why he was so angry every single time Stiles was out of his sight, especially when there was danger around.

"Your phone was off." Noah shrugged, rocking Lila back and forth in his arms, giving her another kiss on the forehead as he began to hum the tune of a lullaby under his breath. "I got bored on my lunch break, and I wanted to see my baby, so what?"

It was the usual for him - any time he was within ten feet of her, she didn't have a moment in your arms or Stiles's. On the day she had been born, he had brought a giant gift basket to the hospital, grumbling under his breath about how he still thought it was 'irresponsible' of Stiles, but demanding to see 'his baby'.

He had burst into tears upon seeing Lila for the first time, and was deeply aggressive about who was allowed to visit and for how long. When she came home, he stood watch over her crib with his gun in hand for multiple days before he finally gave up and went to sleep (and according to you, he admitted quietly that he had done the same thing for Stiles when he first came home from the hospital).

"My phone died." Stiles stressed. "You could have left a note for me at the school or something. You gave me a freakin' heart attack."

"Be more responsible and charge it next time." The Sheriff grinned at him.

"Just - don't kidnap my daughter again!" Stiles snapped. "She is my daughter-" He argued, taking a possessive, protective stance.

"Yeah, well I made you, so I have certain rights when it comes to this little sweet girl." His father said, trailing off into a cooing baby voice as he began fawning over Lila once again. Stiles rolled his eyes. "Besides, ever since the three of you moved out, I hardly get to see my babygirl anymore."

Stiles felt a twinge of guilt at this, but wanted to argue. The three of you needed your own space, and you had moved into an apartment that was less than twenty minutes away from his father's house. He still saw Lila at least once every single day of the week, unless he was busy working.

"Dad-"

"Besides, it's not kidnapping if I'm the Sheriff."

"It is so kidnapping! It's kidnapping if I report you."

"Is it still considered an abortion if I terminate you now?" His father glared at him.

Stiles let out a huff.

Isaac was tired. He knew that being a parent was going to be tiring, but in the six months since baby Leon had been born, this was his first full night alone with his son. His son who was teething, crying incredibly loudly, and in pain because of his little teeth coming in. He wasn't nearly as upset about the fact that he hadn't slept as he was about the fact that his son was in pain and he could do little about it.

He had considered calling you a few times throughout the night when Leon was letting out particularly harrowing cries and Isaac was on the verge of tears himself (especially considering with his heightened werewolf senses, the pain of those cries seemed to pierce through him even more) - but he had agreed to take care of Leon by himself to get him out of the house that you and your mother shared because you had been studying for the SATs and you needed sleep the night before your big exam. So as much as it pained him, he endured alone and ended up crying with his son while he sucked on a frozen teething toy with tears still running down his chubby cheeks.

The sun had come up a while ago and Leon had just fallen asleep, his portable crib set up in the middle of the loft so that Isaac could watch over him - his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot red as he stood at the counter, chugging down a cup of black coffee, trying his hardest to stay away until after your exam was over so that you could take Leon and he could have a nap.

He was not at all pleased when the door creaked open, seeming like the loudest thing ever - alerting him to the presence of Boyd entering the apartment.

"Hey, man-" Boyd greeted him in a usual bright tone, and Isaac cut him off with an abrupt hush. He put a finger to his lips and then motioned to the crib, and Boyd peeked over, nodding once he saw the baby. "You're on Daddy duty again?"

"It's not like it's a hobby or something," Isaac told him tiredly in a hushed tone. "I am a father now." Even with the tense whispering and the tired droop of his shoulders, there was a certain sense of pride in the way he said this.

"Well you-"

Isaac shushed him again, as Boyd speaking in his usual tone was far too loud for Isaac's liking.

"You know, he's gonna have to get adjusted to noise sooner or later." Derek piped up from his place on the couch, where Isaac had convinced him to sit and read a book until Leon had settled to sleep.

"Shh!" Isaac tried to hush Derek into silence, but he glared at Isaac and kept talking at his usual volume.

"Babies born into pack families are brought up co-sleeping, so they sleep through the noise of a dozen family members-"

Isaac crossed the room and put a hand against Derek's mouth, forcing him quiet this time.

"I don't care." Isaac insisted. "Nobody is going to wake up my son now that he is asleep."

"Stop touching me." Derek said, muffled against Isaac's hand.

Isaac backed off, and before Derek could speak up again, Leon woke with a high pitched wail.

"You guys have fun with that." Boyd said, taking this as his queue to leave.

Lydia was overjoyed. Telling her parents about everything had been nothing short of a confusing nightmare, and after a lot of convincing from Melissa and Noah and a lot of questions without a lot of answers, they had both still been sceptical right up until you had given birth.

The moment they had laid eyes on a sweet newborn baby girl with bright red hair - they were convinced that against all odds, you and Lydia had made a baby together.

That was an entire year ago - and now, Lydia was having the utter pleasure of planning her beautiful Luna Harmony Martin's first birthday party. She was so perfectly in her element - picking out decorations, designing an utterly epic and fabulous birthday cake (including a separate, smaller smash cake that only her daughter would get to touch, because it was only the best for Luna), planning entertainment - a professional princess performer and some magicians (no clowns - Luna didn't need those kind of memories implanted in her psyche this early on), and the best part: picking out cute little dresses for the birthday girl to wear.

Much like her mother, she was a fashion icon, and she would likely need multiple outfit changes for her party - not just with the fact that she would get covered in cake or her own spit-up, but because a proper birthday girl should always be photographed in more than one ensemble.

You weren't surprised when Lydia came home with two large armfuls of shopping bags. You wanted to protest, to tell her that a one-year-old didn't need that many clothes that she wasn't even going to wear, but you knew that Lydia's parents weren't going to take away her credit card anytime soon (and when it came to spoiling the baby, they were even worse) and you also knew that this was one of her ways of showing your daughter love.

So when she came to sit on the cushy foam playmat with you and Luna, dropping the many shopping bags on the cough behind the two of you, you simply let it happen.

"Hello my sweet girl," Lydia said, greeting your daughter in a sweet voice as she kissed her chubby cheeks and pulled her into her lap. "And hello to you, Mama."

Mama. The nickname still made your stomach churn with heat - something that Lydia had gotten into calling you more lately after some rant about how Luna's 'speech centre' was 'rapidly developing' and she wanted to influence what the baby would call you.

You couldn't help but to grin as you kissed her too.

"I see you've been shopping." You said, motioning toward the bags.

"A bit." Lydia shrugged. "After I booked the carousel-"

"A carousel?" You questioned. "Lydia, she's a year old. She can't even ride carnival rides - she's not even going to remember any of this."

"It's for the photos. Obviously." Lydia sighed in return, rolling her eyes at you. "The theme of the party is Cotton Candy Princess, what kind of idiot would I be if I didn't include at least one classic carnival ride in my photos?"

"At this rate, she's gonna want a golden pony by the time she's five."

"Then she'll get one." Lydia cooed at Luna, kissing her cheeks again, smearing pink lipstick on her.

You couldn't help but to smile - you knew that this was Lydia's way of showing your daughter that to her, she was the most important little girl in the world.

Derek was annoyed - not with his son, with you.

Since the moment he had found out that you were pregnant, Derek loved his son more than anything in the world. He loved you just as much, he had right from the moment he had slashed Peter's throat and then turned you where you were dying, bleeding out, and used his newfound Alpha powers to turn you in order to save your life. Because that was the moment he knew he would risk anything and everything in order to keep you alive.

He loved you very much, but he was still annoyed with you.

You were determined not to let Derek sleep with his son - a tradition as old as pack life itself, now being marred by you shoving articles in Derek's face about how co-sleeping was 'dangerous' and how the baby should have his own crib. A baby of only three months old should not be damned to isolation. It made Derek's heart ache just thinking about it. He was used to the comfort of your body - he was used to the sync of your heartbeat, the sound of his voice and Derek's constantly nearby. He shouldn't be off in the corner by himself. You had made Derek feel like some criminal, sneaking out of bed at one in the morning to pluck his son out of that damned crib in order to spend some time with him.

And now, Alexander was sleeping peacefully on his bare chest, skin to skin as nature intended, feeling the peace of his father's heartbeat as Derek dozed into a gentle sleep himself on the sofa himself. He was - until he heard the distinct squeak of the bed springs on your side, a distinct huff from you as you got out of bed.

"Derek," You sighed when you saw what he had done, crossing your arms over your chest - it was an entirely appealing sight; the incredibly small baby perched in the middle of his bare chest, so tiny against Derek's large, muscled frame. But it did make you worry - Alexander wasn't secured in any way - he could fall, he could roll off. Even though Derek was an incredibly capable, loving parent, even in the haze of sleep, he could roll over and crush the baby.

It scared you.

"What - are you gonna take him from me?" He glared at you, deep betrayal in his voice. It was clear that the only thing keeping him from raising his voice further was the restraint not to yell so close to the baby's ear. "Do you honestly think that I would hurt my son?"

You held back tears, hating how much the insinuation clearly pained Derek.

"Never." You told him, your own tears choking your throat. "Derek, I know that you would never hurt him intentionally. But-"

"Exactly." He replied, cutting you off. "And there is nothing that will harm him. I am not going to let it happen."

You sighed, putting a hand to your forehead in frustration.

Derek shook his head, sitting up, putting a hand against Alexander's diapered bum to support him - able to hold nearly the entirety of his tiny body with one hand.

"Didn't you notice that all of those articles you read are written by humans?" He pointed out. "This is something that my family has done for generations. Our senses are honed for stuff like this. The moment that a baby is born, we sleep differently. Haven't you noticed?"

You had noticed - you felt like you had been sleeping with only half your brain, like a shark. You thought it was something your mother had warned you about, how you would never get a full night's rest again after having a baby. But it felt different. You did wake up rested, but you didn't dream anymore. You felt conscious nearly the entire time you were asleep - hyper aware of everything, your body responsive to every single coo, every little noise the baby made. You became hyper aware of the rhythm of his heartbeat while you slept, often using it as a white noise machine while you laid there.

"Yeah." You admitted - Derek gave you a subtle smug grin, and nodded.

"I'm not going to hurt him, not even by accident - because I can't." Derek told you firmly. "I will wake up the minute he cries, and I won't shift in my sleep. And this is healthy for us. Our heartbeats will sync up and this will help him sleep better. Please, just trust me on this."

Derek rarely pleaded with you about things, rather than outright telling you - so you knew that this mattered to him greatly.

"Yes. I trust you." You told him. "Come back to bed?" You posed. "All of us in the same bed."

He smiled, and leaned in to kiss you before he got up off the couch, bringing your son with him.

(When you woke up the next morning, the crib was smashed to pieces, and Derek - who was in the kitchen making breakfast with Alexander still pressed to one shoulder - claimed that he had no idea how it happened.)

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[mourningsbane]

Perhaps silly questions, but I'm growing more and more curious of your blog with each new entry/question answered. Love the story slowly unfolding here, cannot wait for the next part and following moons <3

Does Palekit have any further deformations? Or rather that question but in past tense. His tail looks almost fin-like, but I'm not sure if what we are seeing is a) a stylistic "drooping goo" effect, b) a very weird tuft of fur, or c) some malformation of the tail tip, resulting in its split structure.

What's the clan's relationship with Sweetkit, considering so many of its members', em... involvement in the perishing of Honeyspring and her kits. Mostly wondering if Flaildrizzle, Tanglefern and Rootstar feel anything (guilt, sadness, etc.) at all when they see this only kit in clan after a whole litter dies in such horrible circumstances before Sweetkit's arrival? I mean, surely such a tragedy leaves an impact. A followup question-

How much time has passed since Honeyspring's death and Sweetkit's arrival? Do any of LutumClan's cats consider Sweetkit to be like "a second chance" for the clan after losing their only queen and her litter?

A bit of an alternate outcome question! Let's assume Nothing Bad Ever Happened©️ to Honeyspring's kits. What would their warrior names be? What would their basic personalities be? Would any of them pursue high ranks within LutumClan?

Also sending fictional love to Honeyspring, stay goopy queen 💅

There's no such thing as a silly question! Besides, I like answering questions, even if it takes me a while to get to them! <3

My answers are a tad long, so I'll put them under the cut!

1.) Palekit did not have any further deformations! His face was slightly crooked, and his tongue sometimes hung out, but that was about it. He also had severe issues with vomiting; he just couldn't keep anything down and tended to bleed.

2.) Rootstar, Flaildrizzle, and Tanglefern all feel very guilty and upset by what happened to Honeyspring's kits! Still, they, and the rest of LutumClan, saw Sweetkit's arrival as a sign of hope. However, LutumClan as a whole tends to be a tad overprotective of the only kit in the clan.

3.) About 3-ish months have passed since Honeyspring's death! Sweetkit is definitely considered LutumClan's "second chance" of sorts, but a few cats (namely Rootstar and a few others) REALLY wish Sweetkit was in the care of someone who ISN'T Bearface. They're worried that Bearface, being a former outsider who barely respects the clan code as is, will be a bad influence on her.

4.) As for the alternate outcome, let me think! I'll give you my best guesses, but destiny is mutable, so these could've easily changed!

Smallkit would grow into Smallcloud, and would become an apprentice to Tanglefern! She would be on the smaller side, but she'd be a fierce creature for sure! She'd be smart and cautious, but never a push-over.

Flailkit would grow into Flailwhisker, and would likely go on the path of becoming a queen or mediator! She'd likely be about average height and a bit on the chunkier side. I imagine her to be quiet and shy, much like Flaildrizzle, and easy to talk over. Still, she cares greatly about her clanmates, even if she's easily overwhelmed. Smallcloud would've been very protective over her in their youth.

Palekit would grow into Paleclaw, and would most certainly follow the path of a warrior! He'd idolized his aunt, Rootstar, and wanted to become a leader just like her. He's prideful and a little boastful for sure, but not intentionally. He's just very proud of his aunt being the leader, and his mom (Flaildrizzle) being the deputy, and wants to make sure everyone knows it.

Had Honeyspring's kits lived, Sweetkit's role would have also changed, but I can't say it due to spoilers!

[silkythewriter]

Hi there I saw that your doing death note and it’s my fav anime so I was thinking for some headcannons for L with a older sister who is the complete opposite of him and comes to Japan to see him when the Kira case is happening and doesn’t take anything seriously and is just flirting with the task force and Misa and knows Light is Kira and says it all the time

(I have a death oc like this and I thought it would be cool)

Thank you bye

✬Being L’s older Sister!✬

Warnings!: grammer, spelling mistakes! May be a bit OOC!

Fandom!: Death Note!

Author note!: AH HELLO!!!! (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃YOUR MY FIRST DEATH NOTE REQUESTER THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY ٩(ᐛ)و

Summary!: Being L’s older flirty sister!(who doesn’t take much seriously!)

✬☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆✬

“if you see my sister Evelyn

Tell that girl to hurry home again!

Where oh where'd my sister Evelyn go?”

✬☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆✬

Everyone was in shock the first time he introduced you, most likely by accident (￣▽￣💧)

Really!, the first time you walked in and hugged L while ruffling his hair made everyone baffled. I mean, L keeps everyone at arms length so to see him let you do it with no expression shocked everyone.

“There’s my favorite little brother!” You cooed as you pitched his cheeks teasingly. “I’m your only little brother Y/n.”

Everyone genuinely just stared, especially light, as you two bickered like, well, siblings!

“ shouldn’t you respect your elders or something!” You said crossing your arms at the dark haired man. “Well, yes, but considering how ancient you are, your probably considered a fossil by now.” He snickered softly.

L, snickering is a rare sight in of itself, L bantering, now that’s a new game feild!

Of course, L takes extra precautions when it comes to you. Especially with his suspicions of light being Kira, and Misa. So he makes sure to use some kind of nickname, or fake name of your choosing.

In all honesty your flirty attitude shocks everyone, especially form how polar opposite’s you and L are compared to each other. From personality wise, to even speaking wise.

MATSUBA WOULD ESPECIALLY BE BASHFUL AND FLUSTER AROUND YOU(≧▽≦)

I honestly see L sharing one of his toppings with you, like a cherry or strawberry!, he only does it when you lounge around while he’s looking over the information he has so far. Almost absentmindedly, though for a piece of his actual dessert is harder to have then catching Kira…(¬_¬)

This doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a soft spot for you though!, as you are the only thing he has to consider family, you mean a great deal to him. That’s why he’s wary of having you by his side on your visit due to the risks.

But once proven you can handle your own and not let your real name nor any other info he’d be a bit more willing to have you around the task force!

Adding onto that, you catching on to L’s suspicious of light being Kira definitely helps your case. But it takes everyone by surprise when you casually blurt it out without a care.

“I bet a strawberry short cake light is Kira” you say swiveling around the in the rolling chair as everyone turns to face you. L especially, A bit surprised but not stunned only muttered out a response “Deal.”

Misa is so happy to see another girl around! But not so much about you siding with L, that light is Kira. But she quickly shoved that aside to become friends!

She does like talking a lot so please be warned before you talk to her, especially about light.

She loves some playful flirting!, and she’s willing to do it but also is quick to make sure to tell light it’s nothing serious(like he cares much). She calls you some cute nicknames!, you guys are probably quick to become friends.

As for light himself, he’s quite wary of you at first, are you another L?, we’re you after him too? How’d you suspect him so quickly?. He ‘s put off by you, but at the same time keeps his acts up as the innocent deputy’s son.

He’s not sure if he should concider you a threat or not, you don’t take the investigation seriously much, but as well are quick to point the finger at him. Your on a gray line with him due to this, he keeps his guard up, but tries to play it off so no one gets suspicious.

Even in tense situations during the investigation you still have a way of calming L, mostly by your calm composure. It makes him feel a bit better

And having someone siding with him during the investigation without question is a big comfort as-well!

Going back to the flirting part, I do think L does get a bit wary. Not necessarily with you, but the task force as he wants them to focus on the case. But also as a brother he is protective of you and watching people get flustered by your flirty comments is something he doesn’t necessarily enjoy seeing. But at the same time he doesn’t do much to stop you, just kinda glares with his unsettling wide eyes at the person who is bright red.

“Y/n, please leave Mogi alone, he look’s red” L said bluntly. “Awww, cmon I’m just having some fun” you said waving him off before retreating to your chair to let him get back to work.

Poking at L’s face repeatedly to get him to take a break is a common occurrence, but if he’s coming to a break through he will push your hand away and push your rolling chair as far as he can. (╥_╥)

L loves you a ton, and although his almost unchanging face and beady eyes feel like other wise you read him like a book and can tell he does care!. It’s nice having someone that cares about him outside of watari. This case is probably the most if not only hardest case to come to date, so having som support is genuinely helpful.

Speaking of watari, depending on your relationship with him he’d love you!, of course since you are L’s older sister he will treat you with the same respect he has for L. And will do his best for your safety as he knows what you mean to L.

He does lecture you two about getting along some times though (｡ﹷ ‸ ﹷ ✿)

Honestly most of the task force thought that he was actually the older sibling and you the youngest at first glance.

I imagine after you and L have an argument like any sibling does. Although getting into an argument is hard due to his monotone voice. He makes up by it in sweets, though it’ll probably end up with him stealing some after he finished his.

It’s also nice having a second opinion, like voicing what you think the evidence is leading to, or your thoughts on the investigation so far. It makes a thought provoking experience for him.

Please force this man to get some rest cause with those dark circles under his eyes he looks 10 years older then you 😭

Overall he really does care for you, and sure you may not see it. But due to the Kira case he will keep a closer eye on you, older sister or not. He takes it upon himself to keep you safe!, even if you banter like you were still young! (•̀ᴗ•́)و

✬☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆✬

GRAHHH TYSM FOR BEING MY FIRST DEATH NOTE REQUEST I AM SO GREATFUL PLEASE COME AGAIN!

[deansapplepie]

The Spitting Image | Part 3

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: smoking, mentions of underage drinking/smoking, Daryl need a bath, just that. This chapter is very chill. Minors do not interact.

Word Count: 3k

Part 2 Part 4

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Early in the morning you were knocking on the door of the new residents of Alexandria. One hand occupied with a pie you wanted to give them, a bag on your shoulder carrying some things and just one hand to knock at the door. Soon, the ex deputy answered the door and even if some days ago he was threatening you, you had a warm smile to give him. “Good morning Rick!”

“Morning, er… hm… I’m gonna tell Daryl you are here.” He greeted you.

“Oh no, I’m not here to see him. Well… I could see him, but that’s not the reason I came here exactly.” You said, suddenly becoming aware that everyone there already knew at least a little about your history. You cleared your throat. “I brought pie.”

“Thanks, er… pie? Really?” The ex sheriff couldn’t believe you were really able of making a pie. When did you had time?

“Yes, I found some raspberries in the woods. I was saving it on the fridge for something special.” You said handing him the pie so he could take it.

“And you made pie for us? No I couldn’t accept it…” Rick tried to politely refuse, but was interrupted by Carol.

“Yes, we can. Didn’t you know it’s not polite to refuse a gift?” She told Rick and took the pie from your hand with a gentle smile. “Thank you for the warm welcome.”

“It’s no problem. Really. If any of you need anything…” you replied, Carol left to take the pie to the kitchen, then you turned to Rick again. “Also, I brought this…” you took a pink stuffed unicorn from the bag, “I found it on some run and when I looked at it today it reminded me of your little girl, so I brought it for her.”

“You shouldn’t have…” he said politely but took the plushie before Carol came again and told him off about education.

“Of course I should. Every little girl needs a unicorn.” You said grinning playfully. “Also, DJ sent this to your son. They’re his favorite and he thought that maybe Carl could enjoy it.” You handed some comics to the sheriff. “Maybe they could be friends. DJ doesn’t like the other kids here so much, he says they’re all a-s-s holes. Except Enid, she’s a nice girl.”

“Thanks. Carl used to love comics, I’m pretty sure he’ll appreciate.” He thanked. “The kid is a lone wolf, I see, just like Daryl…”

“Maybe… he’s a little too mature for his age, but still just a boy. I think he’s just waiting to find the right people he’d like to be around. Just like…” you were saying but suddenly stopped watching Daryl appearing in front of you. “Morning.” You gave him that wide smile that only two people in your life could get. “I brought some pie. Carol took it, you should eat.”

“Mornin’ “ he drawled.

“Can I have a word with you two?” You asked, you didn’t want to stay long and disturb the group’s peace, but you needed to advise them about something you had forgotten the day before with all the happenings.

“Yes, of course.” Rick answered.

“Inside? I think I can speak low enough so no one listens but…”

“Yeah, come inside.” Daryl said and Rick opened space so you could enter.

After the door was closed, the two men looked at you expectantly while you worked in your mind how you would say that without they freaking out.

“I know some of you already got jobs. So there’s something I want to advise you.” You took a breath before saying it. “Deanna and Reg are amazing people and you can trust them, even though I think they are too utopian and have an idea of the real world that’s not how it works anymore…”

“But…” Daryl said, there was always a but.

“But their kids are jerks. They’re part of the group that do runs and watch the perimeter, but they don’t know shit about it. They pretend they do, but they don’t. Some people already died working with them and despite they had told the whole story, something seems fishy for me. So… your people that are going to work with them, tell them to be careful. I know they’re probably better than them in everything but it’s good if they keep alert.” The two men observed you and you were afraid you had ruined things and they would want to leave, or that you spoke too much.

“Thanks for the advice. I appreciate it.” Rick told you and Daryl just nodded.

“It’s nothing. Really. If you need anything you can come to me.” You reassured again.

“Can we talk?” Daryl asked, he couldn’t stop thinking about DJ and how he was in the end of your conversation. So despite feeling he had no right to, he wanted to know about him.

“Yes, of course.” You replied.

You followed him to the porch and waited him start talking. You had no idea what he was going to say, but you were eager to listen.

“How’s the kid?” He asked directly. He wasn’t one to go around and around about something. He wanted to know how his son was.

“He’s good. He felt a little upset, but we talked. He didn’t need to know all of that. He thinks he’s an adult just because he is mature and the things he saw and had to do while we were on the road. But he’s just a kid.” You took a breath. “He wanted to make a good impression on you. He didn’t say it, but I know him. He tried to hide what he was feeling at the moment, but you and I know he couldn’t.”

“The kid punched me yesterday, and I have to say he’s strong. Why would he want to impress me?” He leaned on the column.

“You know why.” You answered. “Well, I better get going and look for something to do. You should try the pie and take a bath, we have hot water what are you waiting for?”

He grunted. No, he didn’t know why. He didn’t even know what he was doing. And… were he smelly? Of course he was, it had been so long on the road, with no shower… he was afraid of getting used to this place, but he also needed to. He had a son now, and he lived there.

DJ left the house and walked on Alexandria streets, in fact he said he was going to see if Carl liked the comics and wanted to hang out, but he was actually thinking about the stranger that was his father. He found him in front of the houses of the new comers, he had a cigar hanging from his mouth and worked on his crossbow and arrows.

“Hey old man.” DJ said, he felt strange. What should he say? Hey Daryl? Wassup Daryl? Wassup old man? None of those sounded correct.

Daryl looked from his lap and saw his son. “Hi Kid.” He answered cigarette still between his lips.

“I’m not a kid.”

“I ain’t old.”

DJ snorted at the remark. “Is it difficult to use one of those?” He pointed at the crossbow.

“ ‘s not easy, but with training one is capable of using it.” He put the crossbow to the side and took his cigarette from his lips blowing some smoke. “Do ya wanna learn?”

“Would you teach me?” The boy asked. He was excited with the possibility, but tried to make it seems like it was nothing.

“Yeah, but for that we need to go outside of the walls. Then, ya need to agree to obey me out there.” No way he was going to take the kid from safety if he was going to be rebellious and/or do stupid shit. And by his experience it could happen, Carl was a good kid, but he was all the time risking himself and making stupid things.

DJ scoffed at what he said. “Do you think I can’t handle myself out there?”

“Never said that.” Daryl made a pause. “But once we’re out there, ya’re my responsibility. I’m not bringing your dead ass back to your mom.”

DJ didn’t want to lose the battle against the mam, but he also didn’t know what else to say. So he sat by his side and tried to make conversation. “Can I have one?”

“One wha’?”

“A cigar.” DJ answered. ‘The audacity of the little shit,’ Daryl thought.

“Do ya wanna die?” Daryl asked. The young man scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“If you’re afraid to die, why are you smoking it?” He asked the man.

“Who said I was talking about the cigar? I’ll probably die for another reason.” He made a pause to swallow the smoke and then let it out. “Have you ever seen your mom mad? She’s all sweet, but when she’s pissed… She’s scaring.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” He answered, his mom, you, was the best. But oh boy, could you be scaring when needed.

“I wouldn’t give ya one, regardless of that.” Said Daryl, the person that started drinking and smoking when he was younger than his son, but he didn’t want that for him, at least not while he could avoid it.

“Didn’t you take a shower yet?” DJ asked. It was obvious that he didn’t even passed close to the shower.

“Did yer mom told ya to come here and tell me to take one?” Daryl asked annoyed, he was the third person that day telling him to take a shower.

“Nah, but you clearly need one.” He said. “We have hot water. First thing I did after I arrived here was to take a long hot shower. You should too.”

Daryl grunted. It was everyone and the shower against him.

“Is Carl around? I came to see if he liked the comics?”

“No, I saw him with some other kids.” Daryl said finishing his cigar.

“Hope he’s not an asshole like the others.” DJ said, the other kids annoyed him so much. Ok, they were a little bit younger than him, but they were also stupid and weak.

“He’s not. I’ve been around him for a long time. I’d know if he was one.” He said and then pointed to the end of the street. “He went in that direction if ya wanna know him.”

Later that day you were at Aaron and Eric’s kitchen, you were cooking pasta. Deanna was throwing a party to welcome the newcomers, everybody was invited, but you were not going. It wasn’t your thing.

“Tell me Y/N/N, how are you feeling about having your ex here?” Eric threw the question at you sitting on the chair by the counter.

“I’m ok, I guess. I was super anxious at first, but now I’m just glad he took everything well and is interested on DJ.” You said adding some seasoning on the sauce.

“Just that?” Eric asked raising a brow.

“Yes, just that. Come on Eric, there were 17 years that I didn’t see him.” You turned to your friend.

The two of you were alone in the kitchen, Aaron had gone to take a bath and DJ was in the living room probably reading something. “But you still have eyes and a heart.”

“He’s still handsome, and I’m sure his still the same person. The age made him hotter and… did you take a look at those arms?” You said leaning on the counter.

“Just so you know, I’m listening everything from here! Please don’t say anything disgusting!” You listened DJ’s voice coming from the living room a d couldn’t help but giggle at it.

“Anyway, things are different now. And my priority is his and DJ’s relationship.” It was the truth. You couldn’t help and feel warm and bothered when you thought about him, but you had changed, he had changed.

Pretty much, you never let anyone in after him. Your priority had always been your son and you wouldn’t change it in any other way, but now you knew nothing about relationships and also would he want anything with you now? Could he feel anything after everything that happened? Could you?

Half an hour later you listened the front door opening and Aaron talking to someone, who could it be? You were setting the table and then you heard his delicious gruff voice. So apparently you would be having dinner together.

“Hi old man.” DJ said entering the dinning room.

“Hello Kid.” Daryl answered.

“I’m not a kid”

“I ain’t old”

“I thought you’d go to Deanna’s get together.” You said, a smirk on your face, you could almost listen to his answer in your head.

“Ya know me better than this. Not exactly my thing.” He answered and sat where Aaron showed him.

“Neither mine.” You said while setting the pasta at the table. Then you noticed he has taken a bath, he looked clean and smelled clean. “You took a shower…”

“After the third person telling me to take one, I decided to take it before I shoot someone.”

“I was the third person.” DJ observed.

“Shall we eat? Y/N did it.” Eric said taking his place at the table.

“I didn’t, I just helped. It’s totally Eric’s recipe.”

“What about some wine?” Aaron came back with a bottle of the liquid.

You all sat around the table, pasta on your plates and wine in your glasses. DJ tried to convince you that he could take a little, but you’d not allow him, as long as you could. The boy could only try and hope one day the miracle would happen and you’d allow him to get a taste.

“Daryl told he’s going to teach me how to use the crossbow.” The boy drank from his juice.

“Did I?” Daryl answered mouth half full. “You never told me if ya would obey me out of the walls.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “I know how to hold myself well.”

“If you want to learn, you need to do it on his therms.” You said sipping on your wine.

You all finished eating, chatting and savoring the food. You always had a good time with Aaron and Eric, when you first arrived at Alexandria they were very friendly and helped you to settle, soon you became friends and it had been that way since that time.

After dinner you cleaned the table, did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. While that Aaron, Daryl and your boy disappeared to the garage. When you finished, you decided it was time to head home, you went to the garage and found them around a bike.

“DJ, Dear… it’s time to go home.” You called him from the garage door.

“Mom, can I learn how to ride a bike?” The boy asked, eyes sparkling.

“You’re eager to learn a lot of things. Don’t you think?” You crossed your arms and leaned on the door.

“Daryl said he could teach me.”

“If yer mom gave you permission.” The archer completed:

“This bike doesn’t seem ready for me, are you going to repair it?” You asked the man.

“Yeah, it need some repairs.”

“I gave him the bike, and there’s also some parts that I collected. Think he’ll make a great job with this one.” Aaron observed.

“Can DJ help with the bike?” You asked, him offering to teach him things were something, but you knew he had always been reserved, appreciating some time alone. You wanted the two of them to bond, but you didn’t know if doing absolutely everything together was the best choice.

“ ‘f course. Wouldn’t offer to teach him things if it wasn’t.”

“Ok. First learn some mechanics, help with the bike and also learn about cars. Then I may allow you to ride a bike.” You gave the conditions.

“Come on! I already drive cars and I know some mechanics about it.” The teen protested.

“Believe me, you can still learn a lot more. Take it or leave it.” That was your final offer and he knew better than to refuse it.

“Fine…” he finally agreed.

“Ok, let’s go home.” You said one more time.

The boy left the room with Aaron to get a borrowed book, leaving you and Daryl alone. You approached him, your hand on the bike seat.

“If he’s being too much, you can say no. You know?” You said, looking at his face.

He looked back at you, with something in his eyes that you couldn’t read. “He’s not. I’m trying to figure him out, know him. I…”

He had no idea what he was doing, he thought a good start was getting to know the boy. But would him be able to be a father to him? One thing was dealing with other people kids, like Judith or Carl, but for him it was as if he had given birth to a 17 year old baby and didn’t know what to do with it.

“You’re doing good, I was just worried about you…”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He confessed. “I dun wanna disappoint any of you.”

“I didn’t know too. When all happened.” You said. “But with time, I figured out. I cried, I get despaired, I did mistakes… but I loved, I laughed, I learned… it’s not easy but you’ll experience all of that. If you ever need to vent, or an advice… you can come and find me.”

“Thanks.” He was thanking you for way more than just supporting him.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

The Spitting Image Taglist: @minaxcarter @carlyi @daryldixmedown @argentinian-witch @xmaeyonaiise @poetryhazel @blackvelveteen1339 @queenmizuki @crashlyrose @the1eyedmonster16 @jasminocano @sm4-rty @duckybird101 @bigbaldheadname @she-could-never @snailss @maggie-atwood @abbiesxox @slutcoresblog @yondus-girl @akanecchiisblog

Some of you I wasn’t able to tag, I’m sorry :(

[fallenclan]

War with ShallowClan? Feels more like theres an internal war about to break out!! Raven’s public violence has been “excusable” so far but cold blooded murder of a cat who’s never not been loyal for roughly 8 years??? I can’t see how this could be seen as a fair punishment for Snap’s refusal to forget their past omg omg I’m so scared and excited to see where this goes!

So! Here's the thing.

(I'm gonna use this ask as a stepping stone to explain the clan's thoughts on all this)

Way back in moon 196, Ravenstar had just been given the name Ravenshade, becoming a warrior not one but TWO moons ahead of schedule, due to how talented and hard-working he was. The clan loved him--he was their newest little prodigy, charming and quick-witted, and pretty much everybody expected him to be a fantastic warrior when he grew up.

Then, that very same moon, Feathersight recieved an omen while he was out gathering herbs--a pawful of shiny raven feathers falling from the sky. Could it have been a natural phenomenon? Sure. But he knew instinctively (as anyone that close to Starclan does) that it was an omen, and though he couldn't parse the meaning of it, he, like most cats, assumed it had something to do with the freshly-named Ravenshade, and brought the message to Cherrystar. News traveled fast about the omen--naturally, it was assumed to be Starclan telling them "hey everyone! see this kid? he's going to be something special!"

Fast forward. Poppyfeather and Ravenshade go out on patrol, and only Ravenshade returns, with remorse written on every bit of his face. He tells everyone how hard he tried to save her, how he wasn't enough. He sits at her vigil alongside everyone else, head bowed and ears back. It's then that Flamefall, Ravenshade's friend and his old apprentice, shyly approaches Cherrystar to remind her of that omen. "Of course!" everyone thinks. "He's not just going to be a great warrior, he's going to be a great deputy! Maybe even a great leader!" And so Cherrystar appoints him as her newest second in command.

Ravenshade serves the clan well as deputy. He's smart, skilled, and good with the apprentices, who think that he's the coolest cat to ever grace Fallenclan with his presence. He remains deputy for many moons until one fateful day, when he goes to visit her in her den and she's dead on the floor. It's a tragedy, but still, the clan celebrates. Not just for Cherrystar's life, but for Ravenshade--now Ravenstar--'s leadership! He truely will be a fantastic leader, if he was chosen by Starclan.

And he is! He's a bit harsh, maybe, but he keeps a tight ship, and the clan has never had so much prey, or had so little trouble keeping rogues and other clan's cats off of Fallenclan territory.

And then... he kills Sandsnap.

Yes, it's... harsh. To put it lightly. But Sandsnap had said, in front of the whole clan, that he still considered himself a part of another clan!Such a thing just couldn't happen. It was unheard of, disloyal, and maybe Ravenstar was right to enact such a punishment. In fact, he almost certainly was! If he was Starclan's chosen one, that meant that everything he did was just an extension of Starclan's will.

Right?

[mantis-clan]

Mantisclan Year 3 Lineup

I realised I haven’t properly fleshed these guys’ personalities out! Better late than never :D Here’s all our current cats and a bit about them as of year three!

previous / next

Quietstar

Quietstar is a perfectionist at heart, and has been through a lot in the last three years, from losing their deputy and apprentice to then losing their mate, Bonespeckle, over the course of just a few moons. A bit neurotic, Quietstar has always seen flickers of strange shadows and movements in the corners of their vision. Pious to the last breath, the one thing Quietstar cares about more than Starclan and Mantisclan is their daughter. Sunsap.

Bluesky

A former kittypet abandoned by his owners due to sickness, Bluesky joined the clan on moon twelve. He’s very daring, but secretly afraid of becoming a burden to those he loves and being abandoned again.

Blisseyes

The clan’s resident healer, Blisseyes trained under Bonespeckle before the older molly changed paths to being a warrior. She’s an excellent storyteller, able to make even the most mundane of herbs sound interesting.

Fumble

Fumble joined the clan on moon twenty two after a particularly rough kitting on Mantisclan territory. Perpetually an anxious wreck, Fumble gets through his day by telling himself stories and reassuring himself with the knowledge that he’s fast enough to outrun any threat. Though that’s not quite enough to stop him worrying about his kits, Thistle, Osprey and Tadpole.

Breeze

A troublemaker at heart, Breeze joined the clan on moon seventeen, having boldly asked to join with her newborn kits Locust, Branch and Echo. Sometimes she lets her nature get the better of her and can come across as rude or mean-spirited but she really just wants her and her family to have a good laugh.

Perditofog

On moon twenty five, Perditofog and her two kits Stem and Magnolia joined the clan. Just as much, if not more of a troublemaker than Breeze, those two queens get up to plenty of trouble together.

Lynx

The most recent addition to the clan, Lynx is an old friend of Peter Pangrove’s and knew him when she was a kit in a loner group with him. Aggressive and energetic, Lynx seems to have some connection to Spider…

Sunsap

Quietstar and Bonespeckle’s adopted daughter, Sunsap doesn’t let the fact that she’s missing a leg stop her from wanting to follow her ba’s pawsteps in becoming clan leader someday. Ambitious and driven, Sunsap is the first to jump into battle when the time comes.

Mumblecrackle

Once an apprentice from Snailclan, Mumblecrackle ran away to join Mantisclan on moon twenty seven. Always eager to have some fun, Mumblecrackle lives to have a good time.

Locustpond, Branchheart & Echodapple

Breeze’s litter, these three are each unique characters. Locustpond, while she was an odd apprentice, has turned into a stern, Starclan-worshipping adult. Branchheart seems to blend into the background, not seeming to have a solid identity of her own and Echodapple has grown from an egotistical kit into a compassionate, if impulsive, adult. Locustpond and Echodapple both suffer from chronic pain and have bonded a lot over that fact.

Tadpolewood, Thistlefire & Ospreyrip

Fumble’s kits, these three newly made warriors have a lot of learning and growing to go. While Tadpolewood endlessly strives for perfection and recognition, Thistlefire and Ospreyrip seem content to goof off rather than take their duties seriously.

Stempaw & Magnoliapaw

The youngest members of the clan, these two brothers are quite similar in some ways and different in others. Stempaw always has a snappy comeback prepared and excels in debate and inciting arguments while Magnoliapaw is often left to smooth over his brother’s disagreements- not that he struggles all that much, what with his charming personality.

Peter Pangrove

The oldest member of the clan, Peter Pangrove has loved and lost a lot in his life and as a result feels constantly lonely even when surrounded by cats he cares about. He seems to have been a friend of Lynx’s in the past, but, then again, he seems to know everyone.

Dovewhisker

Ambitious and bloodthirsty, this former deputy of Mantisclan acquired the position by murdering Quietstar’s mate- not that anybody knows this, of course. He has since mellowed out in his old age, and may be starting to regret some of his actions, why else would he step down from the deputy position?

Briarmoth

Killed on moon number one by a bear trap, Briarmoth hardly had any time at all to be the fierce deputy for Mantisclan that he wanted to be.

Bonespeckle

The deputy of Mantisclan before Dovewhisker and Quietstar’s mate, Bonespeckle was never one to outwardly show much glee, but that doesn’t mean she loved her family any less.

Larkshade

Grumpy, yet always with time to tell stories for the kits, Larkshade lost herself in her grief when Bonespeckle died and eventually succumbed to a wound she received from a rogue while out on patrol alone.

Spider

New to the concept of clans and Starclan, Spider joined Mantisclan to escape from something in her past- but it seemed to follow her anyway and she ended up dead from injuries sustained in her getaway. Was she murdered, and what did she know about Lynx?

Mousepaw

Poor Mousepaw. Dying tragically young and doomed to the Dark Forest for reasons beyond his comprehension, the gloomy tom has every reason to resent Starclan.

[lunawagner]

Couples of Linkon High School

Freshmen: Rafayel x MC

MC is the class president, with Rafayel as her deputy. He calls out, "Miss Class President!" throughout the day.

MC has good grades, —not the top student, but definitely in the top ten.

Of course, Rafayel draws and doodles during classes. But his grades are not bad either thanks to his drive to outperform his possible rivals in love.

His notebooks are filled with sketches of MC.

MC teaches math to Rafayel and Rafayel teaches English to MC.

They are both bad at physics and spend class time drawing short comics together. However, if nobody listens and the teacher seems down, they would listen and nod along even though they don't understand a word.

The chemistry teacher is unsure if they like or fear Rafayel.

Overall, teachers love them 'cause they treat their teachers as real people and genuinely care about them.

Sometimes they lock their pinky fingers under the desk and keep them that way until the class is over, even though they both get a bit embarrassed.

Rafayel is determined not to kiss her on the lips until both become adults.

Their music teacher is Rafayel's aunt. MC loves her classes and is learning to play piano. Rafayel always complains but still can play at least one decent piece on every instrument you have in the music room.

The art teacher is Thomas. He and Rafayel always argue as Rafayel doesn’t want his art to be just another mass product produced for exhibitions and competitions

MC grew up in a government institution. Although she doesn't remember, she met Rafayel when he was placed there after losing his parents. His relatives quickly took him in, but MC looked out for him, saving him from the bigger kids who tried to bully him. Eventually, they became friends.

MC is tomboy-ish and can't process her emotions properly.

MC's fashion sense is minimal, so Rafayel goes to shopping with her on weekends. Thanks to that they have some matching couple clothes.

Sophomores: Xavier x MC

They have average grades but excel in sports, making them the school's hidden assets in tournaments.

The school coach would love to have them join every team if he could.

Xavier is popular among other boys and has a considerable number of fans.

They nap together during lunch breaks.

They are members of the literature club and student librarians. So they regularly visit the library to read books or organize shelves and help others.

Literature teacher loves them.

Xavier tends to sleep through STEM classes, so MC shares her notes with him later in exchange for snacks or chocolate milk.

When Xavier gets bored during lectures or breaks, he secretly plays with MC's hair.

Despite skipping classes for extracurricular activities, they absorb information quickly, allowing them to pull all-nighters before exams and still perform well.

Some boys claim they got beaten up in the dark when they went down to the basement. Everyone's suspicious of Sylus, but it’s actually Xavier who’s taking care of anyone who messes with MC.

They hang out with a large friend group that includes Tara, Jenna, Jeremiah, and Bella.

Tara enjoys styling MC’s and Bella’s hair with cute hairpins to see how Xavier and Jeremiah will react.

Xavier wears one of MC's hair ties as a bracelet, believing it brings him luck.

They use all of their stationery together, so their pencils and erasers frequently end up in each other’s pencil cases.

MC's dad is a police officer and her mom is a nurse. Xavier's parents are both politicians.

Xavier doesn't get along with his own father but they are on good terms with MC's dad. They play board games, go fishing, or jog on weekends. MC doesn't have the foggiest idea of how it happened.

Juniors: Zayne x MC

Zayne is the top student and MC is right behind him in second place.

People often think MC is just an airhead who gets good grades just because she’s dating Zayne.

But while she is cheerful and active, she’s also super diligent. She pays attention in class, reviews her notes, and makes new ones before exams to make sure she’s on top of things.

She doesn't want to fall behind Zayne and secretly worries about how he would react in case she fails and gets bad grades.

All the teachers are fond of them with some even treating them like their own kids.

MC’s family trusts Zayne more than they trust her, so they’re quicker to say yes to events if they know Zayne will be there with her.

MC has a cute habit of drawing little hearts on the random pages of Zayne's textbooks. Once Zayne noticed it, he started drawing jasmine flowers on hers.

They tend to avoid skinship at school, except for the times MC is sick. During those times, Zayne stays close to her all day, ensuring she is hydrated and consuming warm drinks. He hugs MC and lets her rest on his chest, and he holds her hand during classes.

Seniors: Sylus x MC

One word: Trouble

But no they're not your typical troublemaker brats. They are also top-notch in nearly every class, so teachers don't know what to do with them.

At first, they were pretty low-key about their relationship, keeping it a secret. But once they went public, they became all about PDA with Sylus' hand always around MC's waist whenever they managed to take a break from holding hands.

Science teachers would love to exempt Sylus from taking their classes so that he can never ever set foot in their labs.

Chemistry, physics, and biology teachers change their way when they see Sylus in corridors, lest he ask them about things that would lead to a global catastrophe.

The music teacher gets goosebumps whenever they see Sylus.

Most of the girls don't like MC and there is always gossip and slander surrounding her. But for some, she is like a protective big sis.

MC and Sylus's families have been business partners since the time of MC's grandma.

Sylus' family makes huge donations to the school, so the administration is unusually lenient with him.

They play truant regularly. For what? Nobody knows.

It’s hard for others to actually mess with MC. But, when they do, Luke and Kieran are quick to pull pranks on them even before MC or Sylus can react.

Luke and Kieran look so similar that teachers often can’t figure out who’s at fault. Their innocent expressions after causing trouble don’t make things any easier.

Sylus and MC are chosen school representatives. They are intimidating and cunning so it is easier for them to negotiate with and win over teachers and the local student union.

People come to them with problems to be solved. MC is willing to help them without any immediate material return but Sylus always turns it into a business deal with specific terms.

MC doesn't have many close friends, but she occasionally lunches with the MCs of Xavier, Zayne, and Rafayel.

[jogetsobsessed]

Picture Perfect - Edward Cullen

Standing in the kitchen you glanced through the open sliding glass door, a soft smile gracing your face as little giggles filled the air. 

You were so happy, watching as your little girl bounced around the perfectly trimmed garden, your boyfriend watching her every move, laughing as she squealed when a ladybug landed on her forearm. 

You hadn't realized it, but you had stopped preparing lunch for yourself and your daughter, floating over to the open door, leaning against the frame. Gazing out at your seemingly picture-perfect, all-American family. 

Edward could feel your gaze, looking up and meeting your eyes. Even though you had only been together for a few years you had become experts at all things with each other. Even you would always argue that he had an unfair advantage in knowing everything about you. But you did your best, learning everything about him, being able to read his expressionless face and know his feelings, even though he never wanted to share. 

After sharing a smile you turned and went back to finishing up lunch, eventually calling Edward and your daughter in. She reluctantly left the garden, only coming in after Edward did some major convincing. They sat together at the table, your daughter offering Edward some of her dinosaur-shaped cucumbers, which he as always politely declined. 

Luckily she was still at an age where she didn't pick up on certain aspects of her everyday life, like the fact she had never actually shared a meal with her father. And you were grateful for that, not looking forward to the day that you have to have the dreaded conversation with her. Not only were you going to have to explain that the monsters in fairytales were real, but that her father wasn't hers biologically. 

-----------

“Remind me when we go to the grocery store we need more bubble baths, we don't want the princess to freak out next time we promise her a bubble bath”. He laughed from his coveted spot on your shared bed. “We wouldn't want that to happen '', he chimed in, pulling the covers back as you climbed into bed. 

“You know she loves you right”. Your question caught him off guard, the words coming out of your mouth before he could enter your thoughts. 

“Where's this coming from”, Edwards' words were full of concern. 

“I just, I don't know. I guess it's because while we were eating lunch I was thinking about the conversation I'm going to have with her in a few years. About you know, everything. About you and your family and Jeff. 

“Y/N honey, you aren't going to have to go through that alone. I will be there every step of the way with you. Whether you like it or not, I am in your life Y/N”. 

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

Day had turned to night but you hadn't moved. 

You sat on the damp grass, staring straight ahead. Your body ached from head to toe and your eyes were straining to stay open. The pounding headache causes your ears to ring. 

It had been the worst week of your life. 

You had been woken by someone pounding so hard on your door you thought they were gonna break it down. It was the middle of the night so after grabbing a steak knife from the block in the kitchen you made your way towards the front door. Sleepily you called out, praying that it was just your boyfriend and that he had left his key somewhere. 

“Ma’am we are with the Clallam County Sheriff's Department, we need to speak with you”. It didn't take more convincing as you threw the door open, tears clouding your eyes before they could get a word in. 

The second you heard the infamous, “we regret to inform you” line you collapsed on the ground, your body letting out sobs that could be heard from the next county over. The painted noise drew out the sound of the sheriff's deputies informing you that your boyfriend had been involved in a car accident, and he hadn't made it. 

They had somehow managed to get you up from your spot anchored on the floor and moved you to the couch. One of them sat next to you, offering a comforting hand on your shoulder while the other asked if there was anyone they could call. 

Unfortunately, they were pros at their job, and death notifications came as a part of that package. So they were experts at understanding people through howling sobs. So as you croaked out your best friend's name, the deputy stepped outside, grabbing your phone which lay on the coffee table. 

Rosalie Hale broke just about every traffic law as she made it to your house in record time. She flew up the steps, almost forgetting to act as her human self. Rushing over to where you were still bawling she scooped you in her arms, attempting to comfort you. 

Emmett, Carlisle, and Esme had followed behind the blonde after she sprinted out of their shared residence with no explanation. Then cops approached Carlisle after he stepped out of his vehicle, recognizing him due to their overlapping career paths. 

“I didn't get to tell him”, you croaked out as your sobs turned to hiccups, still clutching onto Rosalie's ice-cold form. 

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

You thought about that day often.

The day that started off being one of the best days of your life. 

That was the day you found out you were pregnant. You had immediately called Rosalie and she had sat with you while you waited for the test to finish. And when you saw that the second line had appeared you cried happy tears as she brought you in for a sweet embrace. 

Later on, you realized how hard that must have been for her. But everyone would admit, you having your daughter and Rosalie getting to act as her godmother was good for her. In the years since your daughter's birth Rosalie had softened, she had a new purpose in life and she took her role as the favorite aunt very seriously. 

From that day the Cullen family as a whole brought you in. 

You had been friends with Rosalie since they first moved back to Forks, the two of you instantly forming a lifelong friendship. The bond that the two of you shared led to the family sharing their secret with you. While it took a while to get used to the idea that you were friends with a vampire you were able to get ahold of all your emotions because you weren't going to let anything get in the way of your cherished friendship. 

They supported you through your pregnancy, not letting you feel alone a single step of the way. 

You appreciate all the help and support you did. 

But deep down you knew that no love or support would ever begin to heal the aching in your heart. The aching that your child was going to grow up without a father. That your child was going to have to endure the unfair hardships that came with having a single mother. 

That was until a certain someone began making himself present.

It had started as seemingly convenient situations. 

The both of you coincidentally being the only ones in the living room late at night when you couldn't sleep, or running into each other on morning walks around the sleepy town you called home. 

Slowly you opened up to him. Voicing the fears and concerns that plagued your brain. Allowing him to comfort you through your darkest time. 

Honestly, you don't even remember when the friendship had crossed so many boundaries that it became a relationship. But at some point, Edward became stuck to your side like glue. He was there for every ache and pain, every craving. Caring for you unlike he had ever cared for anyone. 

When your daughter eventually came, something in Edward changed. 

He had been there for her birth, holding your hand as you squeezed it as your life depended on it. Sometime after your baby girl finally made her appearance he had slipped out of the room, becoming so overcome with emotions that he needed to be alone. 

He was in love with you, he had been in love with you since the day Rosalie had invited you over. But you were dating Jeff when he first met you. And now you were his. 

After some time the brain fog started to clear and you registered that he was no longer in the room. Asking Esme to go find him you relaxed once you heard his voice coming up the stairs. 

Everyone had cleared out, wanting to give the two of you a moment alone. 

Slowly he lowered himself next to where you lay, and if you weren't so tired you would have made fun of how stiff he was sitting. “There is someone I want you to meet”. 

You had never seen him so scared as you lifted your bundled sleeping daughter from your chest and held her in front of him. 

Carefully he took hold of her, terrified of hurting her. You almost burst into tears at the sight of the man you were falling in love with holding your newborn. He ran a finger over her soft cheek, in absolute awe of the tiny human. Reached down and admired her tiny hands, imagining what it would be like to be holding one of those tiny hands, walking her into her first day of kindergarten, or walking her down the aisle, her hand clutching his for support. 

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed your daughter's hand slowly open and grip his finger that had lingered against her tiny, once-closed fist. “I think she likes you”, you laughed out, Edward letting out a necessary breath that he had been holding in. “I have a feeling she’s gonna have you wrapped around her little finger”. 

----------- 

Boy were you right. 

From her first day on Earth Edward did everything in his power to make your daughter happy. 

He was one of her favorite people on the planet, and she was one of his. 

Edward had unspokenly assumed the role of “dad”, never having to ask if that was something he was okay with. Most people didn't even question it, you had been so early into your pregnancy when your boyfriend died that most assumed that your daughter was actually Edwards and that you had just moved on quickly. But what they didn't know wasn't going to hurt them. It was no one's business to understand the dynamics of your unique family. 

---------- 

Waking up to your alarm was easy considering you hadn't fallen asleep. 

Today was a big day in the Cullen household. 

Sitting up you saw that you were the only one in the bed, which was abnormal. Quickly getting ready while trying to keep the tears at bay you got dressed and made the bed. 

Walking through the hallways of the Cullen house you listened to see if your daughter was awake. Because for some reason she had been waking up at the crack of dawn for the past six months. 

Which is when having an immortal father who never slept came in handy. Edward would hear her stir and slip out of bed, meeting her in the hallway as she tiptoed out of her bedroom. Always posing the question, “Why don't we let mommy sleep a little bit longer”. 

Sure enough, you found the pair of them in the kitchen, Edward leaning across the island as your daughter shoveled precut bites of pancake into her mouth. 

“Good morning beautiful”, his hands found their way home to your waist and his lips to yours. The sweet moment didn't last long as a chorus of “Ewwws” that came from your daughter and her uncle Emmett broke you out of your sweet moment. Edward rolled his eyes at his brother while you crossed the kitchen to say good morning to your daughter. 

“Baby girl you need to hurry up and finish your breakfast, today is a big day and you gotta get ready”. Edward smiled at your words as he watched your daughter turn her attention away from the living room where the TV was playing the morning news and back to her pancakes. 

After she had declared that she was all done you scooped her up to go and get her ready, the Cullen/Hale women joining you as they watched their precious girl get ready for such a big day. 

--------

“Ok, I think we’re here”, Edward said to no one in particular as he pulled the car to a stop outside of the old worn-down buildings. His family pulled up in spots next to where you had been parked, none of them wanted to miss out on this monumental day. 

You and Edward stepped out of the car, Edward grabbing your daughter out of the back seat, and helping her smooth out the pretty yellow dress that she had insisted on wearing. 

Your boyfriend met you on the sidewalk, a proud smile on his face, he had been looking forward to this day for forever. “Ok baby, can you stand right here, we all wanna get some pictures of you pretty girl”, you cooed as you ushered her to stand in front of the same sign you stood in front of years and years ago. 

Reluctantly she smiled, eventually getting into the pictures, laughing as her uncles made funny faces behind her aunts. 

But after everyone put away their cameras and phones you saw her face drop. It was suddenly getting very real. A day that you and Edward had been preparing her for almost a year was here. She turned and looked at the front doors of the building before shoving the too-big backpack off her shoulders, shooting herself into her father's legs, wrapping her arms around. 

“I'm scared”, she cried out. You moved to crouch down to her level, but Edward stopped you, his face reading that he had it handled. So you took a step back, joining Alice and Rosalie as Edward crouched down to his daughter's level. 

“You have no reason to be scared honey-bee. We talked about this, it's just like pre-school except you're gonna be here a bit longer. But that means more time to make friends and you get to eat a really yummy lunch that Grandma Esme made”. 

“But Daddy, you and Mommy aren't going to be here. I’m scared”. She clung to your boyfriend, gripping onto his jacket like she was trying to make sure he couldn't get away from her hold. 

“My darling girl, I want you to listen. Take it from someone like me. I've been to a lot of schools``, he emphasized the word lot, which made the rest of you giggle, knowing that his version of a lot of schooling was much different than a normal kindergartener's parents' definition of a lot of schooling. “You are going to do perfectly fine. You are going to have so much fun. After school when Mommy and I pick you up you are going to tell us all about your day and then while you're telling us we can go and get ice cream, and eat it for dinner. 

“Can I get extra pink sprinkles Daddy? '' she sniffled, lifting her head to look her father in the eyes. Your kid didn't play when it came to her sprinkles. 

“Daddy will buy you all the pink sprinkles in the world if you ask him to”. 

Slowly she stood up accepting the comforting hug that you were offering and allowing Edward to slip her backpack on her shoulders. 

“Come on you big kindergartener, we don't want you to be late on your first day”, Edward exclaimed as he took your daughter's hand, you taking the other as the three of you marched into the school. Rosalie snapped a quick picture before they all left, whispering to Alice about how the three of you were the picture-perfect little family. 

[mooncurses]

To add to the current trend of calling out the bullshit that Zionists spout, here's a collection of not so fun facts for my friends outside of Italy.

Some of you may have heard of how Ghali, one of the most famous singers in Italy who is of Tunisian descent, has been criticized by Israel's Ambassador to Italy Alon Bar, who accused him of spreading hate just because he called for a ceasefire in Gaza. Then to remind us all of how much of a grip on the balls of our entire nation Isr*el has, a letter recounting the October 7 happenings was read on air to "balance" things out politically speaking (as our useless Deputy Premier and Foreign Minister stated, whatever the fuck that means). On his part Ghali responded with confusion and honesty, simply saying that as an artist he's always going to use his platform to talk about what he thinks is important, besides the fact that he's always been supportive of the Palestinian people since he was a kid (thus reiterating how their struggle has NOT started on October 7). In no part he ever invoked anything but peace, and yet he sparked controversy.

Of course what this episode merely sheds light on is the shameful and blatant climate of selfcensorship that has taken over the Italian mainstream media. It's not even an isolated accident: just days prior another contestant of the Sanremo festival, Dargen D'Amico, was attacked by the mainstream press after he dared take a minute after his exhibition to remind everyone that with our silence we are all complicit in the deaths of countless children right now. Sure enough he was forced to apologize "for getting political" the very day after.

To protest this cowardly and disgusting attitude that has become the standard in Italy, a peaceful sit-in was organized today in Naples in front of RAI (the public TV network that broadcast the Sanremo festival and that is funded with tax payers' money). After the protestants tried to hang a pro-Palestine banner on the fence of the building, police brutality quickly ensued and several people got hurt after being hit in the head with batons (you can find a video of the whole scene unfolding here).

So the thing here is that you can see how the top brass of our government desperately wants us all to just be complacent in the killing of Palestinians at hands of Isr*el. Much like what happened with the bombing of Rafah carefully made to overlap with the Super Bowl, the pro Isr*el Western governements very much hope that our silence can be bought with as little as good old panem et circaenses. And I've gotta say, at least in the case of Italy, it's almost like in doing so they forget how we young people were taught about genocide in the first place.

They drilled an acute awareness of what genocide looks like into each of our heads throughout our whole grade school life. We would hold our yearly minute of silence for the victims of the Holocaust on Remembrance Day without fail, we would read "Se Questo È Un Uomo" by Primo Levi as early as eight grade and analyze it thoroughly. We would study Hannah Arendt's philosophy while focusing especially on her ideas about the banality of evil that she witnessed during the Nuremberg Trials. Most high schools organized mandatory conferences with Holocaust survivors as speakers and visits at the local synagogue, as well as extra curricular activities (I'm talking weeks long train trips to Dachau and other concentration camps while accompanied by members of survivors associations and historians) to further spread awareness about the horror of the Holocaust and make sure that we would never let it happen again, that we would take a strong stance against it if the situation ever called for it.

And now we are living through the first genocide that's being documented live for the whole world to see and yet apparently nobody can say nothing about it. The countries that so far have taken a strong stance against Isr*el are so few it's absurd considering the enormous amount of damning evidence of war crimes, human trafficking, and ultimately ethnic cleansing that Isr*el is carrying out. It's even more absurd if you think of how casual the Isr*elis are about all of this, perfectly knowing that as long as they are backed by the world's largest powers they are basically untouchable. The banality of evil for real.

But here's the thing. Isr*el is just a country run by the military and made up of brainwashed ultranationalist colonialists, who think it is their birth right to kill every last Palestinian and mock their suffering because that's what they've been told confidently their whole lives. They think that the suffering their people lived in the past made them beyond moral reproach today, that their right to self-defense can spill over to offense and nobody will ever blame them, and they are so convinced of this that they will respond to actual accusations of genocide and war crimes simply by saying "that's antisemitic" and moving on.

Even just recalling the words of Holocaust survivors who spoke up about genocide has stopped clicking in the heads of many people because they see everything pertaining to the Jews as exceptional in its political, social, and historical dimensions, even when it's not. To better explain what I mean let me summarize another fun fact from very recent happenings in Italy. This last January 27, on Remembrance Day, several protests by young people of Palestinian descent and other supporters were held in various cities to condemn Isr*el's actions in Palestine, despite having been forbidden for "security reasons" after some complaints of the Jewish community called for the protest to be rescheduled. Some of the words that were written on the banners that the protestors held are quotes of Primo Levi, a writer and Holocaust survivor who passed in 1987. The aftermath of the protests was basically centered around Noemi Di Segni, the president of the Union of Italian Jewish Communities (UCEI), who said that the remembrance of Levi's words should be left to Jews, and then called for an end to the "verbal violence" against Jews that pro Palestine stances imply.

"Cease the fire of words against us is what we say to those who continue to accuse Israel of war crimes and genocide, with slogans based on nationality and faith, giving credence only to Hamas propaganda and giving new life to prejudices that we had hoped were extinct," Di Segni said. She also said that this kind of "Islamic suprematism" should look for quotes elsewhere, basically.

The funny thing here, however, is that the words that Levi originally spoke and that Di Segni and many other Zionists say have been "appropriated" by Palestinians were words that were never meant to be exclusively related to the Holocaust and the persecution of Jews specifically. All the contrary, they invite caution especially by reiterating that everyone needs to retain awareness of the horrors of genocide, because anyone (even Jews themselves in theory) could let such unspeakable things happen again if they let themselves forget. These are the words:

"Se comprendere è impossibile conoscere è necessario, perché ciò che è accaduto può ritornare, le coscienze possono nuovamente essere sedotte ed oscurate: anche le nostre". (trans: "If understanding is impossible then knowing is necessary, because what happened can come back, the consciences can again be seduced and obscured: even ours.")

This is important because to imply as Di Segni did that the Holocaust is a self contained episode in history, that words of warning against genocide in general can only be used in the context of a particular genocide that happened over 75 years ago, is the exact opposite of what survivors like Levi wanted the world to think.

The title Levi gave to what his English-language publishers called “Survival in Auschwitz” was “Se Questo È un Uomo” (“If This Is a Man”). The Nazis’ crime, he believed, was to treat the Jews as if they weren’t men—human beings. But the Jews’ suffering, he said, did not make them better people, or give them special rights. They had to observe the same moral standards as anyone else. Levi abhorred what we now call “exceptionalism.” This affected his views on Israel. He repeatedly condemned the Israelis’ treatment of the Palestinians. When, in 1982, the Israelis stood by as the Christian Phalangists massacred the Palestinians at Sabra and Shatila, he called for the resignation of Ariel Sharon and Menachem Begin. “Everybody is somebody’s Jew,” he told a reporter, Filippo Gentiloni, from the Italian newspaper Il Manifesto, and he cited the abuse of Poland by the Russians and the Germans. At that point in the interview, printed on June 29, 1982, Gentiloni closed the Levi quote and added a sentence of his own: “And today Palestinians are the Jews of the Israelis.”

Anyways, keep calling things as you see them. It may piss off some people, but it's the only way things can actually start to change in such a mud pool of empty politics and performative activism such as what we're witnessing in most Western countries.

[paradlselost]

CRIMSON.

JOHN SEED X FEMALE DEPUTY

Sort of a dump, I was really debating on just publishing this as a WIP but I was halfway through the smut and decided to just finish it. Not my best, but I tried to go for a more canon accurate John, which means he’s a major freak in this sorry :/

I mentioned it in the fic but didn’t go too deep, I kinda love toying with the idea of a more selfish deputy - humanizing them. If I were to ever write a longer fic with more of an oc-ized version of the deputy would anyone read? Let me know.

I probably won’t post about John Seed or FC5 for a little while after this. I have ideas for a Black Noir (my bbg) fic and then a Father Paul Hill one from Midnight Mass cause I love religious trauma as y’all can tell. I do also like indoctrinated!deputy so maybe maybe eventually I write about that.

2.7k words

content warnings: mentions of cutting into flesh. smut — dubcon, choking, blood play (John being a freak sorry), dryhumping, oral (m receiving), fingering, debauchery in a house of God.

She should’ve known from the start, when the crackle of her radio sounded, interjecting her music with his voice; that this request was nothing but trouble. But rage had blinded her, wrath seeped into every pore in her body, selfishness.

It was never the Deputy’s plan to become the symbol for the resistance, even after the blades of the helicopter stopped, and smoke and fire billowed out from the engine. Even after Dutch saved her and enlisted her help, and despite the stories from countless other resistance members, she only really had one prerogative; save her friends. 

Hudson, Pratt, Whitehorse. Trapped in the claws of the cult, it was her duty to get them back, and despite the help she had been giving to the resistance, those were the only three people she cared about.

He knew this, stalking her like a cat preparing to pounce, he watched every facet of her life from the moment she ventured into Holland Valley that he could. A selfish little thing, ripe for his obsession.

John Seed was a proud man, bold and brave as he had so eloquently begged Jacob to put in his song. His pedestal as a Herald inflated his ego, the knowledge that without him Eden’s Gate wouldn’t have prospered nearly as much fueled his narcissism, which is why he surrounded himself with only the peggies who would do anything for him.

He isn’t sure whether new members are supposed to pledge their lives to him and the cult, but it sounds so sweet when the floor pools with the blood of their atonement and he coaxes those little words from his new followers' lips. His tongue is coated in silver, he loves this new power, and she threatens to take that from him.

He knew she wouldn’t be as proactive if he crooned to her that he had a resistance member or two, and she would swing in guns blazing if he claimed to have Hudson right beside him. So, instead he played on her curiosity, that little nudge in the back of her mind that forced her to seek him out whenever he called. Like a moth to a flame.

“Fuck you, Seed!” Voice so filled with venom it might’ve burned a hole in the floor, he tilted his head at her profanity, a sadistic grin playing on his face.

Hope County was filled with little white churches, chapels with steeples that attempted to reach to the heavens above. She assumed they were much more lively before, now most were barren except on Sundays, when the peggies who could not fit onto Joseph’s compound would listen to him under random roofs of God.

This. He chose to be under the white ceiling specifically, to call her into the thing she had been fighting against. To hear her screams echo against the chipped painting that decorated the walls, for her blood to be stained on the old wooden floorboards.

Curiosity killed the cat. She was stupid enough to venture into his trap, falling to the ground when hit hard enough over the head, and now she was stupid enough to attempt to fight off the peggies that held either arm.

“Such profanity. You’re in a house of God, Deputy, mind your tongue.” He scolded her as if she was a misbehaving child, as if everything she had ever done could be chalked up to that. A spoiled rotten brat.

His fingers danced over the tools he had brought with him, his trusty tattoo gun being at the top, but an assortment of knives he also deemed fit for this occasion. Oh, the blood she would spill for him, he became giddy at the thought.

“Get off of me-! Woah woah woah- hey stop!” Yelping, she still attempted to fight off the peggies that held her arms, she shied away when he advanced toward her, tattoo gun in his hands. He had tried this before, she knew what he was doing.

“No one here to help you now, Wrath. Don’t try and fight, your atonement will hurt much less if you cooperate.” He was too calm for this situation, a practiced art he had been through hundreds of times. It was a skill, making people spill their most intimate secrets, a skill he had perfected.

The Deputy was a fighter, through and through, though John could understand Jacobs words. She was weak without her companions, without pastor Jerome stealing her from her atonement, or Nick Rye strafing his armed convoy, she was nothing now - and it was almost endearing to him.

With her hands bound, she resorted to spitting that same venom that she held in her words, marking his perfect face with her saliva. He grimaced, wiping it off his cheek before it trailed down to his beard, pretty blue eyes flashing with that same bloodlust that dictated his every waking moment.

It was shocking to even the peggies that held her when he grabbed her by her throat, pinning her to the ground and straddling her hips. His hands shook with anger - the same wrath that he deemed consumed her now making an appearance in himself. Two sides of the same coin, two heads of a snake.

Her head ached now, body feeling as though it was echoing. A second blow to the back of her head that surely would’ve knocked her out if the pain of his tattoo gun wasn’t keeping her grounded. She didn’t know how fast he had ripped her shirt, or how long it would take for him to carve her skin, but she was reduced to pained whines and pleas for him to stop.

And he relished in the noises she made. The blood that covered his hands and trickled down her chest wasn’t an unusual sight for the herald - but her being the one under him made it all the more exciting. His Deputy, his wrath, his perfect rival. The peggies that stood above him now didn’t matter, and what are they to him anyways? Expendable followers he could use, the Deputy was everything.

“Yes yes, c’mon, keep pleading…” How could he help it? Her eyes half lidded as she looked up at him, hands no longer bound by the peggies now loosely grabbing the wrist that held the tattoo gun in an attempt to stop him. She looked so pathetic under him, so why shouldn’t he grind himself against her when his pants were so uncomfortably tight?

Her words didn’t quite reach his ears, not as he waved his followers out - who hurriedly scrambled in embarrassment. The old church was silent, save for her soft sobs and his intense breathing. His hand still placed over her neck made her choke on her words, which only fueled his desire. He could crush her windpipe, her life rested in his hands, and maybe he would’ve if the nagging reminder that she was the only way he was getting into New Eden wasn’t playing in the back of his head.

His ticket, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun with her.

He removed his hand from her neck as he finished carving into her pretty skin. WRATH, her own personal scarlet letters. He hummed, looking down at her with lustful eyes, fluttering between hers and the blood that pooled on her chest and trickled down her body to the wooden floor below.

She hated the feeling that bubbled in her chest as the pain subsided, now only a dull ache danced with the look he gave her, how he rubbed the tent made in his pants against her. No doubt, a mark had been left on her neck - his handprint, a reminder. The world felt silent at this moment, when she should've pushed him off.

Selfishness. Prioritizing that small ache he gave her over what she should be doing. Finding anything to act as a weapon against him.

But she didn’t, not as his head lowered and she was greeted with his perfectly slicked back hair, shaking hands reaching to play with a strand. A soft grumble came from his throat, tongue lapping at the blood that trickled down the valley of her chest, tasting what he had drawn out of her.

“What are you doing-?” Her voice was soft, he barely heard it over the ringing in his ears. Too long had he been subjected to resorting to his hand when he thought about her, or messing up his silk pillowcases with his pretty ropes when she teased him over the radio. He had her under him, he wasn’t going to let her go now.

“Shh.” His voice was more scolding then he meant it to be, his tongue traveling from the blood he lapped at down to her budding nipple. He wasn’t gentle, and why should he be? After everything she had messed up for him, he felt it justified to bite down on her pretty flesh, pulling at the bud as much as he wanted.

He relished in the pretty, pained moans that fell from her lips, how her back arched into it. Two sides of the same coin, both reveling in whatever pain was brought to them.

The Deputy’s head tilted back, allowing him a chance to latch onto her neck as a vampire would, smearing the blood on his lips all over her pretty skin. He bit, marking her with his teeth over the forming bruises from his handprint. His hands, decorated in the crimson from his hold on the tattoo gun traveled down her body, painting her in her own red.

He slipped his hand below the rough fabric of her jeans, being met with a contrast, soft and delicate and slightly damp. A soft grumble left his lips at the feeling; which were still pressed against her pretty neck. He felt the way her breath hitched as he ran digits over her most delicate areas. Being so close to her neck, he felt how her muscles tightened and how her breath hitched in her throat.

Lifting her hips to meet his tattooed fingers, a small admission of need. She bit her bottom lip to suppress the noises that tempted to fall from her lips - not wanting to give him the satisfaction. They were still enemies, still rivals, at least to her. 

John on the other hand seemed to be on cloud nine, relishing in how she moved against his hand, grinding herself through the fabric of her underwear. He bit down once more, slipping her out of her jeans and grabbing her hips, sitting up and pressing his pelvis against hers.

“John- John cmon…” Head thrown back, panting as she grabbed at the blue silk of his top. He tilted his head down at her, a sadistic smirk playing on his features.

He always took what he wanted, no matter who it was, and the Deputy was no exception to this. To him, it was God's Grace that placed them both here, that gave him the opportunity to rut his hips against hers.

The bulge in his covered jeans met her underwear, fucking himself against her covered cunt. He leaned down overtop of her, panting against her ear. Hot breath on her neck, the sounds of his soft moans mixing with his heavy breaths, and of course his restricted cock grazing just over her clit every couple of thrusts, it was enough to make any girl's eyes roll back.

He stopped, only for a moment, but long enough for her to let out a needy whine, lifting her head to see what he was doing. Tattooed fingers worked the EG belt off, letting his pants pool at his ankles. He wasted no time once they were off, underwear meeting underwear as the outline of his dick was much more pronounced.

“Fuck fuck, put your head back. Fucking-… good girl.” He groaned out, one hand leaving her hips and grabbing at her pretty hair, pulling her head back against the cold wooden floor of the church. She ached, head pounding and echoing from the injuries earlier - but the feeling of him fucking himself against her needy cunt kept her grounded.

In this moment, she needed him, needed this feeling to not pass out.

He tilted his own head back, sweat casting a slick sheen over his skin. A hand dipped against the drying blood on her chest, gathering what he could over his fingertips before bringing them to his lips, sucking on the bloodied digits. He groaned around his fingers, muffling the moans that threatened to fall.

The head of his cock strained against the blue fabric of his boxers, hips thrusting sloppily against her as his hand tightened on her hips, leaving pretty marks in his wake. One thrust, another thrust, and finally another before white pooled at the head, spurting out of the tiny holes in his underwear.

Panting, he finally moved his fingers out of his mouth, cleaned off the blood and tilted his head down at her almost mockingly; he got to finish, the cum that leaked from his underwear dripping down onto hers, and she didn’t get to. He relished in that, that power he had over her.

“H-hey! Not fair!”

“Oh, Deputy. Come here, maybe I’ll let you get off.”

He grinned as he stood up, fixing himself before moving back onto one of the pews, watching her scramble over to him. He had her eating out of the palm of his hand as she kneeled in front of him. Her head pounded harder, eyes a little woozy.

“Poor baby, rest your head, sweetheart.” He teased, a sadistic grin on his face as she nodded and rested against his thigh, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of hers. He couldn’t help himself, not if she looked so pretty right there in his grasp. 

He tangled his fingers in her hair, watching her confused expression as he moved the blue fabric off of his legs, dick springing up as it was freed from the confinement of his underwear. Guiding her head over it, watching her part her pretty lips to suck on his leaking tip.

Milking his cock, swallowing the spurts of salty seed that spilled onto her tongue. She drained him for all he’s worth, looking up at him as he ran his fingers through her hair. He was soft and gentle in this moment, noises falling from his lips that told her how good she was doing. She shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be sucking off John Seed of all people.

He grinned as he watched her, once he was satisfied with the way she suckled on him, he grabbed her chin and pulled her off of him. Guiding her up to her feet, he let her loom over him. She wasn’t intimidating like this, he didn’t know if it was because he had just fucked her over their clothes or because she was relying on him for an orgasm, but she seemed almost adorable.

His lips found her neck once more as she leaned against him, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. He forced her to stand, to spread her legs to allow his fingers to feel the now wet fabric of her panties. He hummed in satisfaction, moving them aside and tracing a finger over her slick folds.

A soft gasp left her lips, grabbing onto his shoulder and attempting to move back to look him in the eye. He grumbled, forcing her in that same position as he bit down on her neck, pushing a finger inside of her at the same time. He loved the moans that fell from her lips as he pumped a digit deeper inside of her.

Another finger stretched her out, deep enough to hit those nerves that made her legs tremble. She whined, shaking against him and propping herself up as he continued to pump in and out of her. He pulled away from her neck for only a moment, watching the way she buried her face against him and laughing softly.

He added one more finger before her legs fully began to tremble, grabbing onto his shoulder. Pumping more, fully reaching those nerves, which caused her to spasm around him, her orgasm flooding around his fingers. She rocked against him once or twice, chasing her high.

“Look at you, Deputy, needing me. Did I make you feel good? Use your words.”

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 45

Weedfoot announces she is expecting her second litter.

[Image ID: Weedfoot tells Palepaw and Ripplepaw, “Don’t worry, you two. I’m still your mother.” Under her, it says + CONDITION: PREGNANT.]

(Weedfoot: 94, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Palepaw: 11, female, mediator apprentice, insecure, picky nest builder, never sits still)

(Ripplepaw: 11, female, historian apprentice, charismatic, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

Rattlepelt confessed her feelings to Wildclaw and they have become mates.

[Image ID: Rattlepelt says to Wildclaw, “I think I’m ready… ask me again, Wildclaw.” Under Wildclaw, it says + MATE: RATTLEPELT. Under Rattlepelt, it says + MATE: WILDCLAW.]

(Wildclaw: 37, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Rattlepelt: 28, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

Interested in herbs even in her kithood, Troutpaw is eagerly apprenticed to Fennelspot.

[Image ID: Troutpaw, in her apprentice sprite, faces Fennelspot, who says, “I hope I do right by you, Troutpaw.” Under Troutpaw, it says LEVEL UP! TROUTKIT -> TROUTPAW, INSECURE -> COMPASSIONATE.]

(Fennelspot: 102, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Troutpaw: 6, female, cleric apprentice, compassionate, morbid curiosity)

Shadowdrop’s kits are apprenticed. While Tempestpaw is eager to explore the territory, Mosspaw and Trumpetpaw’s thoughts are on their dead father. Their mentors are Carnationspeckle, Clammask, and Halibutdusk.

[Image ID: Tempestpaw, Mosspaw, and Trumpetpaw all have apprentice sprites. Under Tempestpaw, it says LEVEL UP! TEMPESTKIT -> TEMPESTPAW. Under Mosspaw, it says LEVEL UP! MOSSKIT -> MOSSPAW, BULLYING -> SHAMELESS. Under Trumpetpaw, it says LEVEL UP! TRUMPETKIT -> TRUMPETPAW, NERVOUS -> TROUBLESOME, + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]

(Tempestpaw: 6, female, caretaker apprentice, troublesome, loves to eat)

(Mosspaw: 6, male, caretaker apprentice, shameless, stares at fire)

(Trumpetpaw: 6, female, warrior apprentice, troublesome, plays in mud, lover of stories)

Downstar stands above the Clan and proclaims Elmpaw shall be known as Elmsprout, honoring her amity.

[Image ID: Elmsprout is in her full, long-furred, adult sprite. Under her, it says LEVEL UP! ELMPAW -> ELMSPROUT, CAREFUL LISTENER -> HELPFUL INSIGHT.]

(Elmsprout: 12, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

Downstar, Rustshade, and Puddlepaw find a wounded loner with a mangled tail.

[Image ID: Downstar, Rustshade, and Puddlepaw stand in the back while Fennelspot talks to a black bengal tom with a white underside. Under the black tom, it says NEW PLAYER: DARKKICK, 105, MALE, LONESOME, TALENTED SWIMMER, UNDERSTANDS NATURE, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL.]

---

The black and white tom wasn’t trained to fight. He’d only gotten into a few scrapes in his many moons wandering the wilds surrounding his old home, learning what he could from the friends he made. He’d never been in a fight like this. He was never meant to be in a fight like this. Never meant to be in a fight at all.

He wasn’t about to join his ancestors that day, however. He was still too mad at them.

The brown tom chased the loner all the way from the northern human settlement. It was like he had been waiting for the loner, following rumors of a starkly colored tom offering medical treatment to any strays who needed it. You’d have to be mousebrained to get mad at someone for that, but considering how the loner’s feathery tail was now coated in blood, he wouldn’t argue with the maniac.

The loner’s paws skidded against the edge of the river. It still had its freezing winter chill to it, despite the coming of spring. Thick Clan scent flooded the loner’s nose. Oh, to go home… but he knew full well that he was not welcome there anymore. If he crossed the river, he would suffer their wrath. Yet with how vicious his attacker was…

The loner could hear his pursuer getting closer, stomping over new growth in his mad dash. The loner could handle a random Clan patrol. He steadied his paws against the stones and dirt leading into the water and plunged in. 

The loner’s blood drifted in the current. His long fur weighed him down, but he kicked with the flow like he was running on water. He arched over stones and curved his body like an otter, letting the river do most of his work for him. He threw his head over the surface of the water for a deep, shaking breath. He looked back. The brown tom stood by the river, glaring at the loner. The loner dove back into the water.

He kept swimming until his muscles began to ache and his lungs started to burn. The current pushed him toward a wall of stone, where the river pushed on only a paw deep. The loner splashed onto the shallow rocks. He laid in the low flow, gathering his breath. He’d go treat his tail soon. He just… needed a moment to rest. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

“Stay there!” someone yowled. Wonderful, more company. The loner’s eyes were blurry from water, strain, and pain, but he squinted at the figure approaching from the southern side of the river. He saw gray spots against a well-muscled body and blue eyes studying his drenched pelt.

“Puddlespeckle?” the loner coughed, water dripping from his nose. His eyes cleared a bit; no, not Puddlespeckle. Puddlespeckle had no white blaze on his face.

“That’s my grandfather’s name,” the lookalike gasped. “I’m his granddaughter, Puddlepaw. How do you know my grandfather?”

“Puddlepaw, who have you found?” Two more figures approached the river. The loner’s vision was clear, and there was no mistaking the two cats coming closer.

“Rustshade and Downdapple,” the loner laughed softly, shaking his dripping head. “I heard RippleClan became a reality, but I wasn’t sure if you were part of it.”

“Darkkick?” Rustshade muttered. The ginger tom and tortoiseshell molly shared the same shocked look. Puddlepaw slipped back to Rustshade’s side. The loner, Darkkick, pulled himself out of the river and shook out his pelt. His tail burned and he couldn’t help but hiss.

“The one and only,” Darkkick huffed, grooming his tail.

“You’ve misnamed Downstar,” Puddlepaw said, glancing up at her leader. “Downstar, is this the same Darkkick from the stories?”

“I should have guessed you tell stories about me,” Darkkick scoffed. “I suppose you paint me as Autumnstar’s victim, then? Thrown out for doing what StarClan asked?”

“We’re sorry that happened to you,” Downstar said, bowing her head. “We thought you left the territories long ago.”

“I traveled for a few moons,” Darkkick sighed. “My better nature got the better of me though. Couldn’t let loners die when I know how to help them.” Darkkick spat out a chunk of wet black fur. “I would have thought you’d pick Paleshade as leader.”

“She didn’t live to see RippleClan’s founding,” Puddlepaw muttered.

“Ah,” Darkkick said softly. The fur along his spine bristled. It would have been easy for Autumnstar to kill the brave molly without Darkkick around. He’d covered for Paleshade and Weedfoot so many times as cleric…

“Fennelspot would want to see you,” Downstar said. “He could help you with your tail.” Darkkick studied his tail. The wounds were big, and it would take Darkkick a while to set up a temporary medicine den, especially with the maniac from the human settlement looking for him.

“Let’s see how that tom’s been taking care of you,” Darkkick sighed, padding away from the river. “Now what part of the coastline has your little group mangled into a camp?”

Rustshade and Puddlepaw took position on either side of Darkkick (codekeepers, always so wary) while Downstar escorted the long-lost cleric to RippleClan’s camp. Darkkick had heard stories of the shipwreck by the sea, had even seen it from a distance on day-long patrols to collect resources from the ocean, but he would never have imagined it safe for cats to camp in. Even if you ignored the old stories (which apparently no one was telling the younger generation from the look on Puddlepaw’s face during Darkkick’s musings) of terrifying wraiths wandering the shipwreck, how long would the wood last and keep the Clan sheltered? Somehow, though, the shipwreck was still standing strong, protecting the blossoming Clan under its wind-worn wood.

Although Darkkick knew better than to needlessly flame anyone’s pride, he could admit to himself at the very least that RippleClan was doing well. Young apprentices proudly joined their mentors. Elders rested in the shade (although… was one of them wearing a ribbon collar? Did Fennelspot forget how a collar could choke a wild cat? Was this some odd new tradition the RippleClan founders invented?). It was, by every definition Darkkick knew, a true Clan. 

A familiar ginger tom sat by a large rock near the shipwreck, slowly sharing a meal with a long-furred cream and white molly. Fennelspot’s gaze drifted over the returning patrol. At first, he glazed over Darkkick. Then he choked on his prey.

“Fennelspot!” the young molly yelped. She patted Fennelspot’s back as the cleric collected his breath.

“Don’t kill yourself on my behalf,” Darkkick purred as his escorts led him toward his old colleague.

“Darkkick…” Fennelspot coughed.

“Troutpaw, can you leave us be for a moment?” Downstar asked the cream-colored apprentice.

“You’re Darkkick?” Troutpaw gasped. “The exiled cleric?”

“I haven’t been a cleric in many moons,” Darkkick sighed. He couldn’t stop himself from purring at Troutpaw’s wide-eyed expression. “Don’t tell me I’m famous.”

“You play a role in some of my mother’s stories about AshClan,” Puddlepaw said, shrinking slightly beside the black tom.

“He flopped out of the river with a mangled tail,” Rustshade sighed. 

“Yes, Troutpaw, get a spot ready for our new patient,” Fennelspot gulped, taking the last bite of the roasted mouse. 

“Yes, sir,” Troutpaw said before dutifully bounding off to what Darkkick assumed was the medicine den. 

“Come here and share tongues with me, you old fool,” Darkkick chuckled. Fennelspot touched noses with Darkkick.

“If I’m old, then so are you,” Fennelspot chuckled softly. He began to share tongues with Darkkick, grooming the remaining water from his fur. He licked blood off Darkkick’s tail as best he could. In between that grooming, he asked, “You must have so many questions! So do I. Where have you been? Why come back after all these moons?”

“It’s more of a visit than a homecoming, Fennel,” Darkkick huffed. “I could use some help with these wounds I got.”

“You’re going to leave again?” Fennelspot gulped, meeting Darkkick’s eyes. 

“Do you really think Autumnstar will be pleased if you announce my arrival at the next Gathering?” Darkkick scoffed.

“Autumnstar has passed on,” Downstar explained, touching her tail to Darkkick’s shoulder. “And we don’t care what AshClan thinks of us. They chose to exile you. We’d be happy to take you in.”

“Your nest is ready, Darkkick,” Troutpaw called, sticking her head out of the medicine den.

“Let’s see how well you’ve fared in all this sand, Fennelspot,” Darkkick muttered, trying to shake wet sand off his paws. His entourage followed him to the medicine den. His eyes took a minute to adjust to the shadows in the overturned boat. The familiar scent of concoctions and ointments and dried herbs threw him into the past, to days when he had an eager ginger apprentice and the respect of both AshClan and StarClan. Now he lacked both.

“Father?” The voice brought Darkkick back to the present. A brown molly, her back covered and restrained in a tight splint, stared at Darkkick with huge, owl-like amber eyes. Another gray spotted molly, this one almost the perfect reflection of Weedfoot, sat by her side, her conversation suddenly interrupted.

“Father?” Puddlepaw, Troutpaw, and the lookalike gasped.

“Spike,” Darkkick muttered. For a moment, he checked his daughter’s pelt for stars, wondering if she was some ghostly vision. 

“Darkkick is your father?” Downstar asked, moving between the pair.

“You broke your oath,” Fennelspot mumbled, his tall tail falling.

“That oath became meaningless the moment I was exiled,” Darkkick snapped, sneering. Fennelspot quickly bowed his head. Darkkick collected himself, his half-wet fur weighing him down, and looked back at his long lost daughter. “Last I saw your mother, she told me you were dead.”

“I would have been without RippleClan,” the brown molly admitted. “It’s Spikecrash now though, Father. I’ve joined their ranks as a mediator. Palepaw here has been sharing some of her lessons with me.”

“Why am I not surprised that’s the name of one of Weedfoot’s kits,” Darkkick sighed, purring as Palepaw’s shocked expression grew. “Don’t be so stunned. The relation is more obvious than a dog in a tree.”

“Puddlepaw, Palepaw, come outside with me,” Rustshade sighed with a twitch of his tail. “I can better explain what’s happening.” Palepaw hesitantly slunk between Darkkick and Fennelspot as she joined her sister outside. The two littermates followed Rustshade to a quiet spot to talk.

“Your mother thought you had died,” Darkkick said, risking a step closer to Spikecrash. “She… she was not well when I last saw her.”

“We went to find her shortly after Spikecrash officially joined the Clan,” Downstar explained. “She’s being cared for by humans.”

“Yes, thanks to me,” Darkkick huffed, glaring at Downstar. “I took her. I couldn’t stay to care for her.” Darkkick hissed as a sharp sting ran down his tail. Fennelspot had snuck behind him and rubbed an ointment on his tail.

“You aren’t sitting down, and we can’t let you bleed all over the medicine den,” Fennelspot huffed, dipping his paw back into a small jar of ointment and continuing the process.

“Part of me is glad things happened this way,” Spikecrash admitted, her eyes softening as she watched Darkkick squirm. “Fennelspot says my back is healing well. Mom is living with beings who can better care for her. I know we haven’t spent much time together, Father, but we could grow closer as part of a Clan! You could meet Cinderella’s kits, they’ve just been apprenticed.” Darkkick didn’t answer. The medicine den felt too small. How could he stand under the gaze of his ancestors again when StarClan…

“Stay.” Fennelspot walked in front of Darkkick, placing his tail on Spinecrash’s splint. “If not for her, then for us. RippleClan could use your knowledge in the medicine den.”

“I’m not a cleric anymore,” Darkkick huffed, his gut tensing at the very thought. He didn’t want to look at the disappointment covering everyone’s faces. He grit his teeth. He spoke to the ground. “If you find yourselves overwhelmed, I can help treat patients, as I have been for years now. But if I join RippleClan, I am just a warrior. I cannot bear the cleric’s name.” He locked eyes with Fennelspot (the shine in his old friend’s eyes made him want to groan from the sheer overwhelming sentimentality). “Is that understood?”

“We can make it work,” Fennelspot promised. He once again touched noses with Darkkick. Troutpaw purred in the back at the sweet display.

“Now tell me,” Darkkick grunted, taking a seat in front of the daughter he thought dead as the others settled around him, “what in the name of the four— er, five Clans has happened while I’ve been away?”

(Darkkick: 105, male, warrior, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature)

(Puddlepaw: 11, trans female, codekeeper apprentice, thoughtful, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)

(Rustshade: 89, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Downstar: 104, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Fennelspot: 102, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Troutpaw: 6, female, cleric apprentice, compassionate, morbid curiosity)

(Spikecrash: 20, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

(Palepaw: 11, female, mediator apprentice, insecure, picky nest builder, never sits still)

[collabwithmyself]

I have had THE stupidest and campiest idea for a Warriors OC story. I learned that dams can have litters of kits that have different sires in the same litter, and I'm shocked WC never got in on that sort of drama. And so here we are.

Sparkstar of ShoreClan has had a hard year juggling her three kits and her duties to her clan. No one, not even her closest friends, deputy Tansysong and medic Rosewhisker, know who their missing sire is, but Sootpaw, Ashpaw, and Emberpaw have decided they want to find out by the time they become warriors, so they can have their sire present for their ceremonies.

The only problem is... they have three possible sires. The exiled Spider, FrondClan warrior Mothcloud, and kittypet Bug. With their assessment just a few days away, the trio has to come up with a plan to get answers- even if that means cornering poor Sparkstar with all three of her exes.

Sparkstar • she/her • orange/black/white calico • stressed-out workaholic that loves her three kids dearly, but hasn't had a day's rest since she unexpectedly became leader of ShoreClan while pregnant

Tansysong • she/xey • gold/white • sassy and a little snobby, adores gossip, fusses a lot over the kids and xyr friends

Rosewhisker • she/he • grey/red tortoiseshell • rough and tumble, fun loving and a little gruff, very proud of not wanting a mate, encourages the kids to get into trouble

Sootpaw • it/its • solid black • clumsy and kind, the "ringleader" of its siblings, curious to a fault

Ashpaw • she/he/they • white w/mismatched eyes, partially deaf • little bit of a bully and tends to raise their voice a ton, but extremely protective of their family and clan

Emberpaw • ze/hir • orange tabby w/polydactyly • quiet and easily unnerved, but trusts hir siblings and will follow them anywhere, often daydreaming

Spider • they/them • dark brown tabby • "classic villain" fakeout, got exiled for challenging tyrannical leader, rational and stern with a commanding presence but ultimately gentle and a bit of a pushover

Mothcloud • she/her • solid white, congenital deafness • graceful and proud and seemingly quiet, but actually a huge chatty dork once you figure out how to talk to her

Software Bug • he/him • orange/white w/CH • easily confused but extremely earnest and eager, if overenthusiastic and often overestimates himself

[bonefall]

the note about goldenflower being a consideration for firestars first deputy is so fascinating. like I definitely don't want her to take whitestorms role and die in that battle, her surviving so long is much needed but. the idea of her becoming deputy is so juicy. just the moment when firestar walks out into his first gathering and tigerstar not only has to deal with HIM but also the fact that his ex wife who hates him after their extremely bitter divorce is the new deputy. oh god and bramble eventually taking over that role too. thank you for your work and this little note in particular that im chewing on

You see my vision lmao, yeah, the biggest reason I would not make Goldenflower the deputy is because I need that deputy to die versus BloodClan. It fits Whitestorm, and makes an excellent moment for his dying breath to be telling Fireheart to release his grudges because Longtail should be his next deputy.

Longtail serves well, then gets blinded while Firestar is away on his buddy comedy roadtrip with Brokenstar, Graystripe surprises everyone by really stepping up and showing good leadership, and so when Firestar comes back he just makes that official. And then Gray gets snatched up by the researchers.

If Goldie took the position, I'd have to incapacitate or kill her for the deputy dramas of TNP - OotS to take place. And like... nooo, I want her around, especially as a really interesting elder.

Goldie really would have been an awesome pick for Firestar's first deputy though, like, PLEASE feel free to take the idea and run with it because it's really good.

Bluestar dying and Firestar's first action is to pick Goldenflower, standing huge and powerful beside him, bringing back up the issue of Tigerstar demanding his children by correcting; "GOLDENFLOWER'S kits." She looks up at her ex-mate from her position below the rock, licking her chop like a threat.

The unspoken challenge; if you manage to get through Firestar, you will be broken against ME. ThunderClan will never be yours, not even in 18 lifetimes.