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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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I Could Care Less

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You were fundamentally the ball and chain Daemon so badly wanted to saw off his ankle. The ditzy cunt, he called you. He'd realize it spoke truer than he thought, considering you knew how to handle matters of society, yet had no idea how babies are conceived.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, wife!reader, self-indulgently yucky!daemon, smut (dub con, virgin!reader, vaginal penetration, degradation kink, humiliation kink, corruption kink, sadism, hair pulling, slapping, breeding kink, creampie), typos, etc.

A/N: felt like being ruined so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ MINORS DNI Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui

The maester before me froze in his place upon hearing what I had just told him.

"Princess," he turns to me, halting his search for his equipment, "I beg your pardon, but did you say," his face contorts, "you have never shared a bed with your lord husband?"

I furrow my brows at his tone, unsure of why he sounded so shocked. I wait for him to speak something further, but he only looks at me expectantly. I pull my head back slightly. A thin trickle of embarrassment rises up my neck due to his expression. I refrain from shrugging but I do shake my head, "I... yes. I don't see why that is a problem."

"You don't-" he starts but then cuts himself off with a deep sigh. The old man makes a sound then slowly walks over to me, "my lady," his eyes widen, "I cannot help you with balms or herbs-- no amount of balms or herbs meant to aid conception will, if your maidenhood is still intact."

I raise a brow at him, "but I am not a maiden, maester, I am married."

"So you have shared a bed with prince Daemon?"

I do not respond to him but I do sigh.

He gives me a grave expression, "if you wish to fall with child, you must share a bed with your husband."

I suck in a breath upon hearing this. A line forms between my brows, "but, maester Abner, my husband does not even like being around me."

He looks away and huffs in defeat. He brings his hands together, "perhaps," he tilts his head to the side, "if you were clear about your intentions, the prince would be... tempted to indulge your desires. After all, your husband is well-abled and hot blooded."

My face contorts at his words.

"Perhaps you can think to use your womanly traits to persuade him."

Must he make such obscene remarks?

I clear my throat and nod vapidly, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation. "Very well," I quickly dismiss, "I will do as you instruct."

Maester Abner nods and greets me farewell as I hasten for the door. Just as I was about to leave however, he calls out and says, "oh, my princess! Do also make sure that you both peak after."

I raise my brows at this. He does not clarify so I simply nod.

"It is imperative," he raises a finger, "inform your husband. He will understand."

With that, I set off, more confused than ever as to how I would ever have a child at this rate.

I place a hand on my belly and mutter a quick prayer under my breath. I can be persuasive. I shall try my best.

Daemon is most likely with his Gold Cloaks at this moment. It will not take much to find him.

It's not a far travel, but it does take a while for me to reach the training grounds. The moment I spot the practicing troops, I suck in a breath and saunter through. The soldiers that spot me make way, some offering greetings in regard, some not. I make it a point to greet all of them in return regardless. It will be easier to have them on my side later if I find it difficult to convince my husband to return home with me.

I spot Daemon, sitting on a table laughing with his fellow men. Everyone around him clamps their lips shut and stand to bow to me. I dutifully return the greetings.

Daemon is the only one left seated. When he finally turns to me, his face is nettled. He rolls his eyes as I curtsy at him. He groans, "what is it, ditzy cunt?"

The men around him stifle uncomfortably at his name calling.

I ignore it, having been used to it at this point, "I would like to have a word with you, my prince."

He releases a breath and turns back to the table before him, "then by all means, don't let me stop you."

The men at his table watch him as he takes a drink from his cup. He slumps over on the table.

I huff and grip my hands tightly as he orders the men around him to sit down. They do so with reluctance.

"I would prefer it if I spoke to you privately," I mutter while stepping forward.

"And I would prefer," he raises his head, though he doesn't turn to me, "that you fuck off."

A long moment passes. It's painfully clear that he wasn't going to budge. I impulsively decide, then, to just get on with it. So, I suck in a breath and blurt out, "I want a child."

The men at the table turn to statues.

Daemon raises a brow and peeks from over his shoulder.

"I've spoken to maester Abner about it. He says he cannot help with the matter, and that we must share a bed."

Daemon furrows, then finally turns to me. His lips curl, "you've come to me after speaking with your maester?"

I watch as he narrows his eyes. I nod, "yes."

Daemon releases a wry chuckle. He rubs his lap then stands, "and what did the old fuck say, hmm?"

A ripple of dread spreads when my husband walks over to me slowly. I clench my jaw when he presses closer into my space, then begin to step back, "I mentioned before..." I word carefully, "maester Abner said that if I wish to fall with child, I must share a bed with my husband."

I flinch when he suddenly leans towards me.

"To do what exactly?" he coaxes with a taunting glint in his lilac eyes.

The question, for some reason, makes my stomach roll. I step back further and clear my throat. What else would we do anyway? There was only so much you could do in bed.

And yet, I find no confidence when I retort, "to sleep."

Daemon straightens up and makes a disingenuous face. "Ahhh," he raises his brows, "is that what your beloved maester told you? You truly live up to the name I gifted you, ditzy cunt."

I do not respond to him.

He tilts his head and leans on his right leg, "let me ask you a question, lady wife," he motions to nowhere in particular, "if one of my men had an issue with land, what should be their first course of action?"

I knit my brows and his rapid change of topic. I release a breath, "well, what is their issue with the land?"

He shrugs, "what issue can you think of?"

"Many issues," I retort, "title, portioning, labor, drought. There are a great many things issues that cou-"

Daemon cuts me off with a raise of a finger. He links his hands in front of him, "which of that could you help them with?"

I give him a look, offended by his insinuation of incompetence, "my father is lord to a great stretch of land. I could help with any issue that is posed."

"Yet clearly, your father did not teach you the most important thing."

I scoff, "lord husband, my father is-"

"Remind me again," he waves his hand impatiently, "why did you go to your maester?

I clench my jaw, "because, prince Daemon," I retort sternly, "we have been married for a while, and still I am not yet with child."

He gives a deep sigh, the deepest and most exaggerated of sighs that I have ever heard him give. And then he laughs. He laughs so hard that the whole room turns to him, if they weren't already turned to him, to us, to begin with. He laughs like he heard the silliest of jokes. He laughs from his diaphragm and shakes with his whole body.

Finally, he sighs again then catches his breath.

"Your whole purpose is to sire children," he rambles, walking over to me.

I have no opportunity to step back this time around because he grabs me by the arm and rips me into him. His breath is hot against my cheek as he mutters against me, "and yet they betray you by hammering ledgers and chastity into your head."

I whimper when his grip tightens.

For a moment, I can only hear my pulse as he looks at me, as he assesses me like a hawk would a mouse.

"Tell me one last time why you came to me, little girl?" he speaks under his breath.

I give a breathy response, "I... want to have a child."

And when I say he drags me all the way back, I mean he drags me all the way back. It didn't feel like a wife being escorted by her husband at all, it felt like a captive being lead by a captor.

I am in front of our shared bed, though we had never shared it before, when he finally releases me with much force that I nearly topple over.

I catch my breath and stare at him as he stalks over to the nearby table to pour himself a drink. He does not turn away from me as he does this, not even when he grabs the ewer and fills his cup.

He takes a sip of wine then raises his drink to me, "lift your skirt up."

My face drops in horror. My chest tightens and my hands protectively grip my skirt. I whisper violently, "I beg your pardon?!"

Daemon purses his lips into a frown that then lifts into a smirk, "I won't I repeat myself when I'm quite certain you heard what I said."

The prince takes another sip of his drink and begins to walk over. I let out a faint yelp when he suddenly chucks his cup to the side, making its remaining contents splatter to the ground and the metal object to clank against the floor.

He wipes his lips as he inches nearer, "on your belly, ditzy cunt."

I am enraged and mortified. I muster out with as much conviction as I could, "I will do no such thing."

Daemon laughs and stops in his tracks, "won't you?"

I gulp heavily.

He giggles, "and why ever not?" He lifts his nose, "is it too indecent for the lady?"

I shift uncomfortably and quip, "I was raised with honor."

"Ah," he throws his head back and holds in a laugh, "I would have never known. Not when you walked into a camp of men, unchaperoned, practically begging your husband to fuck you."

My jaw drops. I am so shocked my his words I don't even know what to say.

He laughs louder, but the next moment, he is upon me. He grabs my arms and I immediately fight back, only to find that I was powerless against him. He chuckles where I squeal. He forces my arms down and keeps me still as he explains through a hot breath, "allow me to disillusion you, little girl."

He rubs his nose against my neck and my skin pricks all over. "If a woman wants to have a child, and she's lucky, she gets her husband to bend her over and shove his cock into her, over, and over, and over again until she's crying from her eyes and her cunt."

My entire body burns at his vulgarity.

"But if she's not lucky," Daemon chuckles as I continue to try and rip out of his clutch, "she gets another man to do that for her."

The next moment, he releases me and I pull away as quickly as I can. I end up falling onto the bed because of this. I bounce on my spot as I look up at him, too petrified to move.

"That is what you want from me," he grins, lifting up his palms as he peers down at me, "you want me to pump my come into you and ruin your petty honor so that your body is molded perfectly into the vessel that will bear my seed."

I'm at the brink of tears.

I expected his venom and his thorns but still, how could he speak so horribly to me?

"So?" my husband says, linking his hands in front of him, "do you still want a child?"

I heave heavily, feeling tears prick in the corner of my eyes, "you're a brute."

Daemon laughs insensitively, "I'm sure you already knew that."

I did. I do, gods I really do. Hearing it face to face still stung though. I cannot help that I am still gobsmacked by his tawdry, lascivious words. I try not to let my emotions get ahead of myself, so I attempt to calm down with deep breaths.

I turn to my skirt when I am unable to contain the tears any further.

Daemon feels his stomach bubble in excitement at the timidity.

He shifts in his spot as he becomes increasingly more uncomfortable with the constraints of his trousers.

"How do I know you're not tricking me?" I mutter.

Daemon feels his pulse in his pants. His lips curve. And though there was a softness in his expression, it was overpowered by flares of debauchery. After all, there was a prize before him, willingly calling out to be corrupted. Who is he to ignore the call?

"I am a great many things, but a liar is not one of them."

I turn to him, shivering when I see his faint smile.

"I have no use for lies. If I must resort to treachery, then I'll grab Dark Sister and be done with it."

My nostrils flare as I will myself towards serenity.

His smile widens. His loins burn at the recognition of defiance. He will enjoy putting that out.

"Think about it," he offers, "you want a child? One that will grow in your belly? How will it get there? What's it going to take to make that happen? A magic potion from your maester?" He narrows his eyes, "if that was the case, why'd he send you off to me?"

I avert my gaze to really take a moment to ponder on his words. The more I thought about it, the more logical it sounded, and it was horribly late realization. My ears begin to burn and my heart wishes to escape the confines of my chest.

"Will..." I pipe up. My voice falls into a whisper, "will it hurt?"

Daemon raises his brows, and demands (though he hears it), "pipe up."

"Will it hurt?" I speak louder, digging my nails into my fingers.

He holds back a grin, "you know, you really ought to look me in the eye when you speak to me."

I suck in a deep breath and repeat once more as I turn to him, "will it hurt?"

Daemon presses his lips together and shrugs, "only if I want it to."

I shudder at this.

He chuckles, "doru-borto genes," stupid mouse.

I feel my tears travel down my neck.

Daemon thinks of smearing it on the sheets.

"Will I be with child after?" I muster up the courage to ask.

The prince licks his lips and shrugs once more, "perhaps. Perhaps not."

A dreadful prolonged moment passes.

I don't have much of a choice, now do I? My poor heart that had only just calmed begins to race when I hear Daemon tapping his shoes on the floor. The next moment, I find myself blurting, "I trust in you, lord husband."

Daemon's shoulders shake in amusement, "a miscalculated judgement."

I turn away from him and huff, "you're incessantly making this harder."

"As I should," he snorts, "I assure you, you would not enjoy me if I wasn't."

I feel my face burn at the insinuation I would enjoy any of this. How could he expect me to enjoy something so lewd? I shake my head and heave, "maester Abner said something else."

He hums, "I doubt it's anything useful."

I clench by jaw and decide not to say it then.

Daemon does not like that. "Well, mouse," he barks, "spit it out."

"He said that must both... peak. It is imperative."

I turn away from him when he laughs. He bends over in amusement and clutches his stomach, "what darling naiveté."

I say nothing to that and he only continues to laugh.

It becomes painful at a point, and so I cut him off but misjudge my bravery, "shall I-"

I also make the mistake of turning to him as he straightens up. It is then that I spot the bulge behind his breeches. I quickly turn away and blink rapidly.

"Shall you?" he calls in question.

"Shall I..." I whisper lower each moment, "turn over and... lift my skirt?"

I dare to turn back to him when he doesn't respond. Upon seeing his expression, the wretched glint in his eyes, the wolfish grin on his lips, I decide not to fuel his flames any further and merely do as he had asked of me.

Slowly, I roll over, feeling the mattress dip as I turned to my chest. My legs dangle from the edge and my feet barely touch the ground. I curl my toes and slowly pull my skirt. My breath strains as I hike the fabric up to my waist, leaving my smallclothes on full display. He laughs all over again. I sink into the cushions and bring my face into my hands in shame.

"An eager slut, aren't you?" he sniggers.

I push my face deeper into my hands, muffling out, "don't call me that."

I jolt and squeak when Daemon grabs my hips and barks, "what was that, slut?"

I do not respond, and it seems that was the incorrect course of action.

A loud crack and squeal reverberates in the room. He slapped my hind like he meant to discipline me.

He did.

I squeal again and grip at the sheets when he yanks me from my hair and lifts my head up, "answer!"

I grow rigid and feel tears instantly spill from my eyes. My breath is caught in my throat, and so my response is quite broken, "I-I-I said don't call me that."

Daemon releases my hair and my head drops. I bury my face in my palms. His hands then go back to my hips and I cannot control the sound I make when I feel him rub against me harshly.

"Oh, you don't like that?" he hisses as his groin moves into mine. I stuff the sheets into my face in order to keep my silence. Daemon digs his fingers up the curve of my flesh then yanks my smallclothes off.

He pants when he pulls away. I hear him march many paces back, "is it too unnerving to know it's true, wife?"

I do not move an inch even though I no longer feel him against me.

Daemon licks his lips at the sight before him. A weeping cunt. Pretty.

I vaguely hear the shuffle of fabric.

"Touch yourself."

I hold my breath. I do not move. I am tenser than ever.

He effectively frees his erection then looks back up. When he is not obeyed, he lets out a guttural growl, "you've never played with your cunny either, pet?"

I do not respond.

My belly tightens when I hear his footsteps. My neck strains as I grunt in response to the feel of his fingers assaulting my core. He moves with such ferocity, I cannot help but press my thighs as close together as I can to repel him.

"This is where it feels good," he announces as his one hand sinks into the cushion while his other toys with a nub that sends sparks all over my body. I begin to feel myself burn and grow uncomfortably drenched as his fingers rub and dip around my flesh. "Remember when you touch yourself after this, stupid girls like you can only peak to the thought of their husbands breeding them."

A coil in my belly begins to wind uneasily. It only calms after Daemon pulls away. I have an opportunity to catch my breath when he does.

But then his hands come to my waist and I feel his hardened length glide against me.

Daemon lets out a string of incoherent noises then his one hand leaves my side. He uses his free hand to grab his member and slaps it against the leaky entrance in spite. The feel of each hit sends ripples through my body. I whimper when he flicks harder.

A croak rips out of my lips when my thighs are forced apart. His hands are excessively rough when he does this and speaks, "arse up, ditzy cunt. Or else I'll fuck you there instead and you won't get the prize you want so badly."

He slaps his hand on my bum when I do not immediately oblige to a command. It elicits a deep cry from my lungs. My skin stings at the contact and with pained noise, I do my best to lift my parted legs and push myself on my toes. The imprint of his hand lingers on my skin.

I'm throbbing all over at this point.

Daemon grabs himself again and points his tip to the plump folds before him. He groans freely where I attempt to contain myself. I feel him lather his member in the wetness that was now spreading all over my skirt and thighs.

Daemon thinks of dragging this out and continuing with torture.

I feel him poke into me a couple of times, easing in teasingly, shallowly entering back and forth before he hisses and speaks.

"Nyke kostagon daor iderēbagon lo jaelan ao naejot sagon adhirikydho lēda riña iā daor," he sighs as he composes himself for a moment, "ziry iksos issare bōsa pār eman ryptan mirros sīr... merbugon."

I can't decide if I want you to be quickly with child or not. It's been long since I have heard something so... hungry.

I scream into the sheets when I feel rip into me.

"So..." he heaves and rubs the fleshy part of my hips, "fucking desperate."

If I hadn't heard myself make the sound that I did, I would have never known it was possible for me to make it. I sob into the sheets, tasting the coarseness of the blankets against my tongue as I do so. I feel the salt from my eyes trickle into my open mouth. I feel snot build in my philtrum. I really don't find it in me to clamp my jaw shut after.

Daemon begins to thrust into me at a punishing rate. He pounds with much vigor and little regard. I feel so full with each blow. I feel so stretched out; somehow it feels delicious. It makes all my nails claw into the surfaces it can reach. The crackling sparks inside me intensify as I progressively lose my breath. With every hit, something soft and tender in me is attacked, leaving my body in tremors.

He pants in sync with his pummeling. My whimpers and groans are at a few seconds delay.

He latches his hands tightly on me and beats into me with singular purpose. Even through the obscene noises we were making, the slapping of skin was very much audible to my ears and it amplified the heat burning across my body. What kind of heat that burned in me was now indistinguishable.

My feet are barely on the floor as he hoists me up and stuffs himself in and out of my folds. It get increasingly harder to not simply succumb, and yet I find it nearly impossible to relax against his abrasive touch.

"So wet and tight," he growls, "so eager to be molded by my cock."

I yelp when he shoves into me once a bit more forcefully.

"What d'you think, come slut?" he jeers, "are you going to make me a kepa quickly, or shall I bully you a bit more before you carry a dragonling in your womb, huh?"

The only response he gets out of me is heavy breathing and high pitched squeaks.

He rips into me harder again, coaxing out a cry that claws my throat. I progressively grow weaker against him.

"You will answer when I spoken to," he forces.

My cheeks rub against the sheets. I feel tears, snot, and saliva pool into the cloth. At this point, I am a convulsing mess against him. I suck in a breath through my watering mouth then shudder in response, "p-please-"

He titters then releases one hip to grab my hair. He rips my locks away from my face as he croons, "I don't think we're understanding each other, squeaky mouse."

He yanks my hair back, lifting my head uncomfortably, causing me to choke on my spit. I wail in response to his careless pulling. He leans down and maniacally heaves, hips not ceasing their ministrations at all, "r'you going to make me a father like a dutiful bitch or not?"

I choke on a moan before I can respond. My breath is shaky when I say, "yes."

I feel an unmistakable tension reach its acme deep inside me. My breath shortens even more.

"Good. Don't fucking disappoint me then, darling," Daemon exhales, releasing my hair, making me helplessly faceplant. He digs all his fingers into my sides again.

After three quick breaths, I am broken.

My terse body reaches its capacity and I shatter against myself, against him, quaking, fluttering, weakening. I drool all over and shrivel up tightly. My belly breaks into a million tiny pieces and my mind goes blank. All that's left is, "Daemon, D-Daemon, Daemon-"

And he loves every second. He feasts in the feel, in the tightening sensation around him. He takes in the smell of depravity and feels his ego inflate.

He savors every minute reaction and, in all his wickedness, quickens his pace, snapping his hips harder.

He feels every shiver and jolt. He relishes every mewl and screak. He makes sure the crash is at its most violent, the peak at its height, before letting himself come undone. And when he comes undone there's so much come.

His momentary self-control was well worth it, considering the noises that echo through the chamber.

Daemon doesn't get sloppy, not at all sloppy as he pumps his flaming arousal deeper and deeper, but he does go a tad weak when he hears his name get called the way it is. What can he say, the sound of his name gets him going.

I am a melted disaster. I am a lump of quivering sobs. I am a puddle of lewdness.

The sensations that I felt magnified inside me when I felt Daemon's release. It was ironic that 'peaking' was now clear to me, considering I couldn't see straight through the tears blurring my vision. I found myself speaking the prince's name as though it was the only word I knew.

The pleasurable feelings from mine and his release were now wearing off and quickly becoming immensely uncomfortable.

I could barely even make a sound at this point. My mouth was drier than sand.

Eventually, when Daemon's movements relent, I finally find reprise and slowly even my breathing.

Daemon releases heavy huffs and gulps loudly. After a moment he reaches a stand still.

I am unsure if the feel of his hands rubbing against my butt was real or not.

My legs tense and core sharply flinches when I feel him unceremoniously pull out of me. Immediately, I feel hot liquid ooze out of my tenderness.

The yelp that leaves me when my soreness is slapped is immensely different to that of the ones I made earlier. It is weak and hoarse. It is telling of how powerless I was in this moment.

And though I would think it is apparent, my husband still had little regard for me as he leans down to my face and whispers, "can't you feel yourself leaking?"

I jolt and whine his name out in a plea when I feel him touch my aching core that he just hit seconds ago. I feel his fingers swirl the overexerted area. I feel like crying all over again.

"You're wasting my seed, you know. You ought to do something about it if you really want a child," he says before pulling away.

I don't find it in me to move after coldness crashes onto me. Not after that, nor after I feel my womanhood twitch as more evidence of Daemon drips down my legs. I don't move even when hear the shuffling of clothes and the crunching of footsteps.

The marching sound travels farther back and soon enough I hear the creak of the door.

"Next time you come demanding things from me, come slut," Daemon wipes his fingers on his thighs, "remember I won't be so gentle."

The door slams shut.

#daemon targaryen #daemon fanfic #daemon smut #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x you #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut

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kavaeroexe · 2 years

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Yandere Owl (from Honkai) x Reader? Even short one is okay, thanks!

alrighty!

Yandere!Owl Headcanons

warning: typos, bad grammar

attention! please do not try to repost my works, I only post my works on Tumblr, if anyone see someone stole my works please inform me through the comments, tag me in the works, or message me!

The OG Owl has become a Yandere from the start

but he slowly becomes more yandere for you, when it comes to you

he lost his sister, he lost his fun memories, he lost almost everything

so when he finds a certain warm radiates around you to him, he wants to keep that warm

he loves you, that’s all that matters.

the day he lost you again, he always prays that your farewell to him it’s only temporary, he prays to anyone whether it’s a god or a devil hoping that every day you’re doing okay and hope that fate will reunite you both again.

and he swears when that day comes he’ll never let you go again, no matter what the reason or the situation is.

he loves to share his warms and he can feel your warm, holding up together so close that he never feels like he’s ready to let you go from his arms.

“S/o.. my S/o.. we’ll always be together”

every morning he loves to check your forehead, after that kiss you lightly and pats your head, and he does that every morning

because he always cuddles at night and ALWAYS ends up sleeping together because he never wants to let you go.

if you are misfortune and become a herrscher, he’ll protect you 24/7, while reassuring you that you can do it, you can control it and you’ll be with him forever.

at least, until he’s dead, nope you can’t die first.

he never used pet names, so when he does, it means he really needs you and is so worried about you, or has a feeling of scared that he’ll lose you.

“Darling, you’ll never go right..? promise? promise.”

you’re his and he’s yours forever, he’ll never let anyone even god, take you away from him.

#honkai impact #honkai 3rd #honkai x reader #owl x reader #honkaiowl #honkai owl #honkai impact owl #honkai owl x reader #hi3 owl

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cyberbirb-arts · 10 months

Text

Tagged by @cybernightart 🐉

(Thank you!)

1) Were you named after anyone?

Our "aunt" wasn't exactly blood-related but I was named after her - turns out that it wasn't her actual name but a variation of it lol. 🙃

2) When was the last time you cried?

Hmm, yeah…yesterday. I felt like crap and haven't been able to sleep well because of our neighbors lighting up very much illegal fireworks.

3) Kids?

Hell no.

4) Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I only use sarcasm in a light-hearted conversation. I take things very seriously and sometimes a joke will fly over my head.

5) What's the first thing you notice about people?

IRL, I guess someone's eyes, if they look tired or worried. The way someone smiles is really special. Online, while I'm a grammar nerd I've become lenient with text. I still tease my brother about his typos tho hehe.

6) What's your eye color?

Hazel! Green one moment, gold the next. Magical.

7) Scary movies or happy endings?

Yeah, I can't handle scary movies. The last one I watched wasn't really scary but had a horrible ending and I cried for hours. I'm frightened very easily. I pretty much gave up movies and only watch anime that makes me laugh.

8) Any special talents?

I have a pretty deep voice for a woman hehe, so I voice-act for fun sometimes and make my brother laugh. My last project back in high school featured some original male characters and it was sooo damn fun! I also can sound (almost) like Pikachu and Mickey Mouse. I should probably get a mic someday...

9) Where were you born?

Washington state.

10) Hobbies?

I really wish I went back to my photography days. But it kinda fizzled out since I game so much. 😅 I still draw fanart when I can, I can't imagine my life without it. Does making Youtube playlists count? lol

11) Pets?

Had to say farewell to our last fish, a black skirt tetra. He was a bit of a bully to the others but he lived for YEARS. I also grew up with a German Shepherd and he was the sweetest boy ever! So yeah, currently no pets. I'd love to be a birb mom, but I definitely miss having a dog to cuddle with.

12) What sports do you play/have played?

I never took to sports well haha. I had to get a chiropractor's note just to have textbooks at home and be able to walk instead of run. I'd love to get into archery (non-hunting version) but don't think I have the arm strength for it. 🎯

13) How tall are you?

...5'3". I envy tall people.

14) Fave subject in school?

ART. My teachers had the biggest smiles on their faces when I showed them my assignments. I was even complimented with my old anime fanart at the time lol.

15) Dream job?

Working with animals would be really nice. I watch a lot of rescue youtube channels like Taki's Shelter, Liondad_1987, and Because We Matter Exotic Rescue. Also URURU TV! I adore foxes ❤

Tagging anyone who would like to do this! 🐥❤

#birb's the word

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loverofallthingssarah · 2 years

Text

A trick of the heart

Synopsis: Andy walks back into Miranda's life. Can you handle this?

WARNING: angsty

Word count: 1K

A/N: sorry for any typos, also I know this isn't a Sarah character but I just love Miranda so muchhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so sorry if you did not want to be tagged

Miranda Priestly. Sounds intimidating, right? Intimidating would be an understatement, but that’s what intrigued you the most. After the debacle that was Paris Fashion Week, you were hired right on the spot. Miranda needed someone to fill the shoes of her biggest disappointment and that just so happened to be you.

This tore your nerves up because you knew the feelings she had for Andy no matter the root was strong and unwavering. Those were shoes you knew you just couldn’t fill. Everything you heard was “Andrea” this and “Andrea” that. You think that in itself would dissipate the little crush that was ever growing on the dragon lady, but it didn’t. Nothing did.

Working for someone you constantly fell for more and more each day was hard, but you stuck it out because who wouldn’t. It was Miranda Priestly for fucks sake. Just being in her presence was unlike anyone you ever met, and when those feelings hit you… it’s like you knew it wasn’t just a crush. Being around Miranda made you feel in ways you never had before, everything felt light and airy. Calm, yet so fierce. A sense of wholeness surrounded you in her moments of vulnerability that only you could see.

The days were getting easier as you felt as if you were gaining way into some part of her broken heart. She started treating you as a human unlike before as just her employee. The talks became longer, the feelings became stronger. Miranda was letting you in, and it gave you hope for a future between you both.

Until today, today… a day that started out completely normal. You’re sitting at your desk after coming back from your lunch break that was normally spent in Miranda’s office. But today, she told you that she wouldn’t be able to have lunch; she had a very important work meeting. You paid it no mind and went about your day until you heard giggling come from Miranda’s office. Not just her usual fake laugh she had with everyone, it was the giggle she had always saved especially for you. Lost in the seemingly jealous thought, Miranda’s door opens, and out walks the one and only Andrea Sachs.

The burning in your tummy worsened as their conversation continued while Miranda showed Andrea to the door.

“Well, this was lovely. I hope we can do this again soon, Miranda.” Andy smiled as she looked at your Miranda.

“Yes, let’s,” Miranda said as she waved a farewell to Andy.

Your eyes never left theirs. Miranda finally turned around and her eyes found yours. She immediately looked away and went straight back into her office.

“Y/n, is there a reason my coffee isn’t here?” she asked in the most passive tone. That’s the straw that broke your back. You couldn’t be a part of this charade any longer, especially now. You would not allow yourself to be in a situation of watching the woman you fell in love with fawn after another.

Enough was enough, you stalked your way into Miranda’s office.

“Have you completely lost your mind, Y/n?” Miranda scoffed at your presence.

“I quit,” you said.

“W-what?!” Miranda exclaimed.

“I didn’t stutter,” you said as you turned to leave her office.

“Stop. Don’t be dense. You’re not going to quit.” Miranda laughed as if she knew the kind of power she held over you.

“Miranda, get over yourself. You don’t own me. I can do whatever I want. I’m done with this.” you growled.

“And what exactly are you done with, Y/n?” Miranda challenged. You rolled your eyes and started walking. Not looking back. The anxiety did not completely hit you until the realization of the huge backlist target you put on your back as you exited the Elias Clarke building. It was too late to turn around now: and you were too far gone to look back.

On your way back to your small studio apartment, all you could think about how stupid you were for blowing up like that. Miranda didn’t owe you anything - she wasn’t yours. You were finally inside the lobby of your building, and looking quite solemn. The little old lady, Anita, that lived next door stopped you in your tracks, “Y/n? Are you okay, little dove?”

Your body breaks at that moment; sobs uncontrollably leaving you as you turn towards Anita. She opened her arms and you trudged way into them with a huff.

“I m-messed up, A-Anita. I-I’ve ruined e-everything.” you mustered out between sobs.

“You haven’t ruined anything, darling.” you could clearly hear Miranda’s voice coming from behind you. You whipped your head around so fast finding piercing eyes looking right into yours.

“M-Miranda… w-what are you doing here?” you sniffed out while taking a step closer to the woman who haunts your every being.

“I followed you. Y/n, why did you walk out on me?” Miranda asked.

“Miranda, I-,” she cuts you off, “I won’t allow you to walk out on me, darling. I cannot... will not, lose you. Do you understand me?”

“What about An-dray-uh?” you asked with disdain laced in your voice.

Miranda knew she had messed up. Inviting Andrea to her office was just a peace offering - letting bygones be bygones. Miranda just needed some closure to a part of her life that at one time she thought she wanted but now she knows will never be.

“Darling, Andrea is nothing more than an acquaintance. There is nothing that she has that I want. There is nothing you have that she is going to get.” Miranda says while slowly walking closer to you.

“I don’t have what I want,” you say looking to your feet.

“What do you want, darling?” Miranda’s voice was barely above a whisper. She’s so close to you, her hand cups your chin pulling your face to look at her.

“You.”

Miranda sighs, “I’m older. Vain. Insensitive. I can’t give you the love you that you deserve, Y/n”

“I. Want. You.”

You both are standing so close together that you can feel her lips grazing yours. Miranda’s insecurities holding her back. You close the distance - an immediate explosion of fireworks. Miranda takes control of the kiss. Slow, passionate. The best kiss you had ever experienced.

“Take it upstairs.” Anita’s voice broke you from your trance.

You giggle and Miranda rolls her eyes.

“Wanna come upstairs, Miranda?” you smirk.

sfw taglist: @oh-mydarling @rainbow-hedgehog @twistedpoeticjustice @tissaias-lover @peggycarter-steverogers @hortensia-doll @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @commanderspeach @lanawinters-ily @lntlmate @sapphicforsarahh @talulahmae @billiedeansgirl @dreamypqulson @goodeday2u @autumnbunnyboo @imstacysmomtm

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly imagine #devil wears prada #wlw imagine #meryl streep

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destieltropecollection · 3 years

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Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 10: OMG They Were Roommates!

Showing Affection | @destielshipper4cas

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,760 Main Tags/Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Pining, Omega Cas, Alpha Dean Summary: When Dean’s girlfriend breaks up with him because he ‘isn’t capable of showing affection,’ he is hell-bent on proving her wrong. His best friend and roommate Cas seems like the best test subject to do so. After all, showing affection comes easy to him when Cas is concerned.

Hot Mess | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,069 Main Tags/Warnings: pwp, recreational drug use, Cas acts like endverse Cas, voyeurism, mutual masturbation Summary: When he’d placed the ad for a roommate, Dean hadn't exactly got what he expected. The first guy to answer had been exactly what he expected, sure. Gordon seemed perfectly acceptable on paper, but something about him creeped Dean out. He did a quick background search on the guy after he said he'd think about it, and was glad he did. Two different assault charges, even though they were almost a decade ago, still made Dean decide to never call the guy, no matter how desperate he got. The second guy that showed, though? Dean had no idea what he’d been thinking, even letting him through the door. He reeked of pot, and looked like he might've been at least a little high during the interview. But he had great references from all his former roommates, and nothing came up on the background check Dean did after he left (not even a possession charge, like Dean had expected), and since New York was such a damn expensive place to live, he called him up and said the room was his.

My Love is Carried to You By My Feet | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,337 Main Tags/Warnings: snowed in, friends to lovers, roommates, sickfic, writer!Castiel, nursing student Dean Summary: Dean and his roommate and best friend, Cas, are snowed in together for the time being, which wouldn't be so bad if Dean hadn't been hopelessly in love with Cas for years. And then Dean gets a cold.

Pizza Man | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,406 Main Tags/Warnings: The Pizza Man (Supernatural), Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, POV Alternating, Love Confessions Summary: Dean and Castiel are roommates in their third year of college. Cas frantically shows his best friend a horrible typo on the latest ad for the pizza place where he works, just knowing it's going to ruin his night.

You're My Home | @maleyah-givemetomorrow

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,724 Main Tags/Warnings: Genderfluid Cas, bisexual Dean, protective Dean, hurt/comfort, Soft boys, getting together, friends to lovers, coming out, first kiss, cuddles, fluff Summary: His tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth, when he tries to speak, so the one word sounds like a whole effort, slurred and gruff. “Cas?” There’s a sharp intake of breath and then the hesitant clicking of heels on the floor. “Dean…? You’re awake?” “Mmyeah,” he groans. He wants to move, but he fell asleep in the worst position and he’s stuck in the sheets, his legs tingling violently. “You alright?”

Infamous | @verobatto

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,815 Main Tags/Warnings: Pornstar!Dean, roommates, smut, top!Dean, bottom!Castiel, friends to lovers Summary: Dean is secretly in love with his best friend and roomate Castiel. But it's not the only secret he keeps. Dean is one of the most hot bisexual Pornstars in the industry. Dean knows Castiel never would find out his secret because the guy is the most puritan socially awkward man in the world, and he would never watch a porn movie. But Hannah, Castiel's girlfriend, decides to play him a joke and one night he surprises her boyfriend with a gay porn movie called 'Infamous'. Imagine Castiel's face when he sees Dean, the friend he knows for years, playing the main role with a magnificent performance.

Revelations | @shealynn88

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,727 Main Tags/Warnings: Concern that someone is suicidal (they aren’t) Summary: Dean is a mechanic in Sioux Falls. Castiel is the new gas station attendant. Dean needs a roommate, Cas needs a place to live. And thus, they were roommates!

Yes Homo | @celipuff

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,012 Main Tags/Warnings: Roommates, Top!Cas/Bottom!Dean, Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas, Switching, Bisexual Dean, Gay Castiel, Dean’s First Time With A Man, Mutual Masturbation Summary: Dean tells himself that jacking off next to his best friend isn’t homo if they don’t touch. The problem is... once he sees it? He absolutely wants to touch.

Molly Ringwald is Still a Bitch | @kingdumbass

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13,871 Main Tags/Warnings: College AU, Roommate AU, Mutual Pining, Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas Summary: Castiel has got it bad for his college roommate Dean, but Dean would never fall for a guy like Castiel... Would he?

Grow For Me | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,082 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, top Alpha Castiel/bottom Omega Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Biting, Claiming Bites, Mpreg, Misunderstandings, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Sexual dialogue, Happy Ending Summary: Dean is desperate for a housemate after Charlie moves out. After interviewing several potential tenants with near disastrous results, he meets Cas. Can the lawyer with the strange habit of talking to plants fit into Dean's life?

The Winchester Breakfast Special | @thefandomsinhalor

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 33,602 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern Setting AU, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Pining, Miscommunications Summary: Watching Dean cook breakfast after a long night of steamy passion is something Castiel gets to witness on nearly every Sunday morning. The only problem is that the meal in question is never cooked for him: He’s just the roommate.

alone together | @dothwrites

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 74,239 Main Tags/Warnings: Quarantine Fic, Roommates, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, minor angst, Domestic Fluff Summary: Like the rest of the world, Dean Winchester’s job sent him home with the supplies necessary to work from home and a vague farewell of “We’ll see you when this all blows over”. Unlike the rest of the world, Dean Winchester is entering into a quarantine with Castiel Novak, his incredibly hot and incredibly uninterested roommate. How is Dean supposed to concentrate on his job while Cas is just a few feet away, being...well, Cas? Castiel Novak was already working from home, so the news of social distancing doesn’t affect him that much. What does send him into a panic is the knowledge that Dean Winchester, his stunning and straight roommate, will also be working from home for the foreseeable future. After spending so long trying to distance himself from Dean, Castiel now has to face a future where Dean is present. All. The. Time. They’ve got food, Internet, and all the toilet paper they need, but neither one of them is prepared for quarantine.

#destiel trope collection 2021 #day 10 #roommate au #destiel #supernatural #fanfic

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tillthelandslide · 3 years

Note

16. Going to rugby matches with Henry and your dad, since I already go to rugby (both union and nrl) with my dad since I was 3 years old (our father/daughter dates)😍🙏🏼

A/N: Hi my sweet, I included this idea because I do it with my dad too! (and brothers) and I was watching the six nations on Saturday and I was just thinking about how Henry would love it so here you go. Haven't checked for typos so excuse me if there are any. Love you all - L

Rugby Matches : Henry Cavill Headcanon

Think it goes without saying that he would he so excited

He'd wear his England rugby shirt and that stupid hat (jk it's cute) and you would scold him for it (you just wanted to see his curls tbh)

You'd be clad in an England shirt too (or if your team were playing you'd wear your teams shirt)

You'd meet your dad there and henry would keep saying how excited he was

They'd hug each other tightly when they saw each other and then your dad would hug you

Henry managed to secure the best seats in the arena and your dad and you would be over the moon about it

You'd make sure everyone had a drink in their hand to enjoy whilst watching

You'd all sit down and begin watching it, you'd be wedged in between Henry and your dad

Henry would have his arm around you, only really removing it if a player did something stupid

Every single time they managed to get a try he would do a little dance or you'd all stand from your seats

And if the other team got a try or a conversion his eyebrows would furrow and he'd have a pout on his lips

If the team were doing really well he'd high five your dad

The more they drunk the more rowdy they got and you'd be sitting there laughing at the two of them

During half time they'd speak about all sorts, laughing with each other as you sat there, simply smiling at them (and you would all drink more)

You would absolutely love how well they got along

Your dad and henry would talk about his aflliation with his own team in Jersey and henry would invite him to the next match

They would also talk about how Henry used to play rugby before his leg injury

Maybe your dad would excuse himself to use the rest room and henry would be pulling you closer to him without hesitation

He'd place a kiss to your lips, smiling against you, he tended to get handsy when he was happy or excited and when he added alcohol to the mixture it was hard to get him to stop

You would giggle against him and lightly push him away if he tried to deepen the kiss, you had to be careful in public after all

"we need to be careful Henry, you never know who's here" you'd say and henry would groan which would make you laugh

"Let them see. I'm at a rugby game with my girlfriend and her dad! Life is amazing and I want to kiss my girlfriend because I'm happy and I love her" he says making you smile, kissing you again before your dad sits back down

"Sorry to interrupt" he'd say and you'd blush deeply as Henry would just smile

I feel like your dad might make a jokey comment like "Good to see ill be having grandkids soon" and henry would laugh as you hit your dad

The second half would begin and you'd all be excited again

Cheering for the team and scolding the rivally team

No matter if your team won or not you'd all leave very happy and smiley

Your face would ache with how much you had been smiling and your head would buzz a tad with the alcohol

You'd bid your dad farewell and go home with Henry

If the team won then they both of you would definitely celebrate, in your own way 😉😈

Tag List: @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 @henrythickcavill @hc-geralt-23 @kissthatlifeaway @darkbooksarwin @august-w-princess @speakerforthedead0 @pixie1484 @constip8merm8 @tigerbroadwaybaby @agniavateira @summersong69 @al-wiisa @stephartrave @al-wiisa @henrycavillfanpage @intenselikes @anat2507 @ellixthea @aguspalazzo @wintersoldierslut @michelehansel @cavill-sass @thecavillstache @xelizabethvalentinex @sesamepancakes @tumblnewby @thefangirlsblog @sugarmelonwater @madbaddic7ed @bakika @abundanceofsoph @runawayolives @kellbell44 @dashingcavill @paosesposts @006819red @youcouldbemysilversprings @emelinelovesjc @mrmiyagislittletrees @mali1mugan2 @barbiejean126 @ellemcavill @lharrietg @beck07990

#henry cavill #henry #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x you #Henry cavill x reader #Henry cavill x yn #henry x yn #henry x reader #henry x you #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill headcanon #Henry cavill headcanon list

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miasma-of-fear · 3 years

Text

"The fear ensnares you like a serpent 'round your heart."

¤ Independent, semi-selective RP and ask blog for Jonathan Emmanuel Keeny-Crane, a canon divergent Scarecrow - OC and crossover friendly, interacts from @whats-a-clever-username ¤

[ Rules + more info below ]

Promo Post 💉 Headcanon Masterpost 🎃 Verse List 🧪 Wishlist 🌾 Relationship Taglist ⚰ NPCs 🍂 Playlist 💀 Interest Tracker

¤ Key of terms ¤

Adjustments Are in Order : blog maintenance

A Murder : corvid companions

A Nightmare Escaped : Scarecrow tag

Arkham Files : promos

Backlog : queue tag

The Beast in Me : Scarebeast tag

Burlap Rope and Straw : wardrobe

Broken Picture Frames : muse art

Crowscratch : muse posts

Do You Have an Appointment? : closed starters

The Duke of Delirium : faceclaim

Farewells : end thread

Filed Away : save tag

Gaze Upon Me! And Know True Fear! : self promo

He Never Trusts Presents : submissions

I Feel a Headache Coming on... : dash comms

The Maze of the Mind : headcanons

Needles Smoke and Feathered Fear : aesthetic

Nevermore Your Ichabod : musing

No Time for Such Dawdling : memes

Odd Company : threads

Querist Beware : asks

Romance of the Unusual : Jon/Edwin tag

Silence Filled : music

Step Into My Web : open starters

Suspicion Grows : anonymous

This IS a Madhouse : crack

Whispers From the Corn : OOC

Yonder Stands the Sinner : starter call

visage tag tba

interests tag tba

desires tag tba

¤ Read before use ¤

🧡 Mun is 21, NB, uses she/he/they, and goes by Kirby, Who, and Briar. This is a mobile sideblog run by @whats-a-clever-username. My other roleplay blogs are @e-l-c-kingor and @who-is-muses.

🤎 I don’t care much for extensive plotting, rather preferring a basic idea for the beginning and going from there.

💚 As far as my style of formatting goes, I write how I would a story- both for comfort and keeping the theme, sometimes with actions and sometimes without- and intermittently use icons outside of memes. That being said, I have no problem if my partner uses them, or formats considerably different from me, so long as I can read their reply.

🧡 I'm 18+ and mutuals only (asks and ask memes open to non mutuals), and a bit of a stickler for literacy. Not multiple page long replies, of course- brevity can be used just as well in some scenarios- but I lose interest in poorly written one liners quickly. Spelling and grammer aren’t too much of an issue for me- I make my own fair share of typos and I’m usually good at filling in the blanks or making mental corrections- but again, it can become frustrating if my partner doesn’t seem to be making an effort.

🤎 I’m relatively experienced in RPing (~7 years), but I haven’t been doing “serious” roleplay on Tumblr for long (less than a year.) I’m learning as I go, and I welcome any feedback or tips, but I’m also prone to doing things my own way. This blog is for fun, after all.

💚 I'm still somewhat shy about smut threads, and as such will be selective about who I do them with. That being said, dirty jokes and asks about such topics that aren't too graphic or invasive are fine, as are fade to blacks (I'll mention whether I'd like to move on to the smut or not.) I'm fine with sexual headcanons and will post some (along with related memes) every now and again. All will be tagged suggestive or nsfvv depending. Because of this, I'd prefer anyone following and interacting with me to be over 18.

🧡 Duplicates, OCs, and AUs/different universes are welcomed! I think it’s to be expected, given this is my personal version of Scarecrow (my main verse affectionately referred to as either Cleververse or Earth-2860.) Subsequently, other DC characters will be regarded as separate Earth’s (i.e. Earth-3 Riddler versus Earth-1, etc.) Additionally, while I do have Jon already with my version of Bookworm in my main verse, I am 100% willing to fudge the timeline for a different ship with our muses, and I definitely multi-ship. Feel free to hit me up and we can discuss!

🤎 Please refrain from godmodding. I know it’s sometimes necessary to briefly take control of another’s character (in the sense of anticipating their movements, timeskips, or their being somehow unconscious), but try not to be too controlling.

💚 Always feel free to contact me OOC. Communication is important. It may take me a while to respond, and I may forget- which goes for threads as well- but I always try to. Granted I can be a little awkward and shy, but I don’t mean to come across rude.

🧡 That being said, I don’t mind and even appreciate a reminder every now and again if I haven’t replied to a thread in a while, but please don’t pester me incessantly about it.

🤎 As with any Batman rogue no matter how prone to levity, there will be dark themes- not constantly, but certainly on occasion. I’ll do my best to tag appropriately, but don’t be afraid to give me a gentle heads up in the event I overlook something. I can say upfront that needles, religious (mainly Christian) themes, demons, violence/murder, drugs, alcohol, smoking, death, past child abuse, psychological abuse, manipulation, physical/mental torture, and blood/gore will be common.

💚 I hope this goes without saying, but Jon’s thoughts and opinions are not indicative of my own. If he’s being a horrendous, cruel bastard, that doesn’t necessarily mean I hate your character, etc.

🧡 As of the present, I will not be taking any m!as unless I reblog a meme, and I might veto some of the given options for my own comfort.

🤎 Though he may acknowledge time based events like birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries, Jon exists in a purposefully vague point in time because, frankly, I’m horrible at timelines. I’m always willing to do threads that take place in the past or future, or even seperate timelines, but outside of those Jon will always be 38 regardless of what time has passed.

💚 I don’t mind if you want to torment or attack Jon- physically, mentally, etc.- but I ask that it not be an all the time thing. Angst is lovely, but it becomes draining when it’s the only thing I do.

🧡 I'm totally fine with non roleplay blogs sending in questions and reblogging most things from me (headcanons, aesthetic, etc.), but I do ask that answers, threads, and other IC posts not be reblogged. Just a pet peeve. Additionally, I don't mind if you want to reblog a meme from me, but I do subscribe to reblog karma (sending in a meme that you're reblogging.)

#dc comics rp #dc rp blog #batman rp #jonathan crane #scarecrow #Adjustments Are in Order : blog maintenance

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wolfs-hunt1 · 3 years

Text

Wolf Kisses 3

Pairing: Stucky x Shapeshifter reader

Word count: 1897

Warnings: none on this chapter, sorry for any typo.

A/N: ok ... I think I already know where I want this fic to go. I have currently 3 more chapters planned, but since I got stuck writing this (it covers only half of what I had planed for this specific chapter) I might take longer with the others. I’m just publishing this one like this because I feel like I’ve been stuck long enough and I might need a new perspective. I hope you all like it!

Tag lis is OPEN

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

Part 2

You were in the communal kitchen, having breakfast with Bucky and Steve when Tony walks in and stops when he looks at you. he whistles slowly and looks between the two men.

"You go Capsicle, finally getting on with the times I see." he winks at them and slaps Bucky on the shoulder when he passes him on the kitchen, going in for the coffee pot to make himself a cup. This makes Steve choke on his coffee and a scowl to appear on Bucky's face.

"What is that supposed to mean, tin man?" Bucky grumbles, turning on his seat to look at Tony. Tony merely looks at the three of you and makes an obscene sign with his fingers, making a collective groan to leave you all.

"First of, eww, we're still eating!" you say "And second of, I'm still recovering from an injured leg, I don't think those activities are advisable." you sass back, looking at Tony's shocked face when you tell him you're the injured wolf the two super soldiers brought home.

"What? But…"

"Wolf got your tongue?" you are now openly laughing at his reaction, with Steve and Bucky snickering beside you. "By the way, I have some really strong words for you if you think I'll let you do any testing in me without me bitting back." you are glaring at him by the end of your sentence, making sure he knows you don't want any probes anywhere near you whatsoever.

"Will a bite from you make me turn?"

"I'm not a werewolf, I'm a shapeshifter."

"Sure thing Lupin, whatever you say." he picks his cup and leaves the kitchen, trowing that comment over his shoulder.

Tony didn't talked more to you that morning. But in the afternoon you did got a manila folder under Steve's door with information about your species, that Tony had collected from one of Shield's servers, along with a written note that a room would be prepared for you that same afternoon so you wouldn't have to sleep on Steve's couch. Yeah… like you had been doing that anyway. But maybe a room would be nice. You would be able to give them their space and you could have yours.

You have dinner alone with them in their apartment that night, and after, you are shown to your new room. There were some clothes set out for you, that seamed about your size, so you wouldn't need to keep wearing Steve's and Bucky's oversized shirts, although to be honest, they were quite comfortable.

You take your precious time in the bath that day, making sure you are thoroughly clean and relaxed before sleeping on some clothes and flopping belly up on the bed, just staring at the ceiling. The soft shadows caused by the lights from the buildings outside made the room appear cold, dark, and empty. Made you feel alone. When did you stop feeling like you were alone in the first place? You had barely noticed it… but now that it was missing, you craved it once more.

You didn't want cold and dark and alone.

You wanted toasty warm, and cuddly. You wanted the comfort both men provided without really asking it of them. You wanted the security they gave and how they made you feel like you didn't have to be alone ever again.

You get up and walk to the door before stopping abruptly. No. You couldn't. You had intruded on their lives enough already. And now you had your own room, and not even one excuse to go and see them. You were alone once more and you had to live with it. So you crawled back to bed and pulled the comforter atop your head, hiding underneath them to keep warm.

Your night was restless, you got little sleep, and had sore muscles from the lack of rest. Your eyes were still a bit puffy from the time you burst out crying with no idea what you were even crying about. Overall, you looked like a freshly crawled out of a grave zombie. That was plainly clear when Tony and Sam spent the entirety of breakfast teasing you.

"So… where's Steve and Bucky?" you ask, not having seen them yet that morning.

"Last I saw them was when we went on our morning run." answered Sam, between bites of his toast.

"FRIDAY, were are Capsicle and Barnes?" Tony quips from his seat, eyes never leaving his tabled and occasionally sipping his coffee.

You looked at him weirdly until a disembodied voice ranged all around you. "Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes are currently on the training floor."

"What was that?" you ask a bit startled with the voice that came from thing air.

"That was the AI that powers this building. You can ask her anything if you ever need help around here. She'll also let you know what floors you have access to and what floors are off-limits." that could come in handy.

"Cool… do I have access to the training floor?" Tony merely hummed, and so you went back to finish your breakfast. Sam comes with you to the training room when you both finish breakfast, him going to the locker room first to change to something lighter than the sweater he was wearing.

You go ahead and open the door, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and grunting could be heard right away, the overpowering smell of the leather of the machines hitting your nose with the slight tang of sweat. You can see both men in a sparing mat, trowing and dodging punches right and left, with barely time to take a breath.

You don't want to distract them, so you lean against the wall, just watching them. Roling muscles expanding and coiling with each new movement an entrancing sight. Sam shows up a few minutes later, wearing a black t-shirt with the Avengers logo on it… subtle. He walks up to you and smiles.

"Do you spar?"

"Oh… not really. I only fight when others get too close for comfort. And even then I have sharp teeth and claws to help me out. Like this, " you point with a hand at your body, "I'm basically useless." he chuckles at you and nods at one of the punching bags.

"Care to help?" you nod, following him and grabbing the bag so it wouldn't move too much whenever he punched it. You could feel the strength of his punches traveling through the bag, and you could also tell he was holding back, maybe so he wouldn't make you fall down. "So… wolf girl. What's it like to live as a wolf?"

"It's thrilling. The rush I get when turning, when running or hunting, it's amazing. The power flowing through my veins, making me faster and stronger, making me be able to see better in the dark, and to ear and smell more enhanced than when I'm human? It's addictive really." you can see the fascinating in his eyes with every word you say, his focus on punching the bag slipping away so he could better hear your story. " But all extremely draining, the more time I spend as a wolf the weeker I progressively became, and if I get injured, my body can't even turn back."

"So like, you can only be a certain amount of hours turned?" he asks, resuming his punchings when he notices he had fully stopped his training to look at you.

"No, with experience, and by pushing my limits I get to extend that time. The most I've staying turned was about three weeks, it was during a blizzard, and honestly, being human in that situation would have killed me." a loud bang reverberates in the room, making the both of you look over to the two super soldiers. Steve was pinned to the ground, whit Bucky's metal arm in his throat pushing him to stay down while he straddled the blond's hips, also pinning his legs so he couldn't move.

"Ready to give up, Stevie?" Bucky taunted, leaning furder down to whisper something on his ear, making him shift his head softly to look in yours and Sam's direction before looking back at Bucky.

"I can do this all day." Steve manages to topple Bucky over and get the upper hand, pinning him now to the floor mats. Gripping Buckys arms to the side of his head, sitting on his thighs.

"Get a room you two." Sam throws at them, making you laugh at the light blushes on their faces when Steve helps Bucky up.

"No need to get jealous birdbrain, we can share you between us." Bucky quips back, just to rile up Sam. Your friendly bickering is stoped when Natasha walks in, with a serious face.

"Fury is calling all of us for a meeting. Now." she leaves the training room without waiting for an answer.

"(Y/N), why don't you go up to your room and order something for lunch from FRIDAY, we'll probably take a long while at the meeting." Sam leads you to the door, while the three of them go to the locker room to change before the meeting.

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

Being cooped up in this fancy room wasn't your idea of fun. In fact, you've been living so long on the wild that being in this place as long as you have is starting to make you climb the walls. Almost literally.

Maybe you should have taken Sam's offer to throw some punches and let out some pent up anxiety. Maybe a walk outside would help you calm your nerves. You walk to the elevator and after some awkwardly pacing around, you speak up.

"FRIDAY, can you take me to the ground floor please?" you can feel the moment the elevator starts to move, and a short few minutes later the doors open up to a massive lobby. "Thank you." you step out and walk along the vast space, boots making some squeaky noises every few steps. The doorman tipped his hat at you and opened the door, bidding you farewell.

The air outside was warm, but the cool wind that was blowing felt refreshing on your skin. You pick a direction and start walking, not caring much about where you're going. The streets were busy, but no one really paied any attention to you, making you blend in naturally with the city.

You are so distracted by your own thoughts that the next thing you know you are walking at a park, the lush green canopies of the trees making the air cooler and more refreshing. You walk to a bench and sit there, looking at the small playground infront of it, watching the children playing.

You longed to be able to run as a wolf once more, but it wouldn't be smart to do it here, the bystanders would only call for the authorities and you would be shot on sight. So running freely would have to wait. You wondered how the meeting was going, what they were talking about, and if it involved you. You where living there rent-free after all, and with a questionable background to warrant you lots of questions about it, none of the superheroes were doing.

Taking a deep breath once again you decide to return to the tower, you had been away for far too long without having told anyone.

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

Part 4

Tags: @hidden-treasures21 @jelly-fishy-babie @thedarkplume @fallenoutofrose @animegirlgeeky @salveangeli @lokilokilokilokilokiloki @artemis629 @buckysknifecollection @glimmering-darling-dolly @ rebekahdawkins @amiets2 @tite-rose @ animegirlgeeky

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x bucky #stucky #stucky x reader #steve x bucky x reader #fluff #wolf #shapeshifter #My writing

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rosequartzstarswrites · 3 years

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20 Questions for Writers

Thank you @cheesyficwriter for the tag!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What's your total AO3 word count?

351,699

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

As of now, I have only written for Harry Potter; however, in February I began several LOTR/Hobbit WIPs that I have not yet published. The first one is due out at the start of September though!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Another Universe: Hermione Granger is brilliant: she completed her PhD in Linguistics at 25, and is the youngest faculty member at the University. Ron Weasley, an unruly quantum physicist... well, he's getting there. But when Granger gets stacked with a project she hates and has to talk to other scholars at the University, their paths cross and become permanently intertwined in a way neither of them could've ever anticipated. (Slow Burn Multichap Muggle Uni AU) Rated T.

Rosebury Grounds: Lady Hermione Granger has been reared up in society, to marry well and be a good housewife, like any good Edwardian lady, but that's far from what she wants. When a handyman by the name of Ronald Weasley joins the house staff, utterly disarming her from the moment they first meet, he might just be the opportunity she needs to break loose and choose her own destiny.Lord Draco Malfoy has a secret— a secret he knows would cost him everything if it ever saw the light. But it's getting harder and harder to keep it from his father, because Draco keeps bumping into a pair of emerald eyes and a head of lush black hair, and he can't pretend his knees don't buckle at the sight. Which would be quite alright, if not for one small problem: it's not a woman they belong to.Two tales of forbidden love, set in Edwardian England. (Multichap Muggle AU) Rated M.

Something Growing: Hermione’s pregnant— and she’s freaking out. She’s always been good at everything, but she’s not sure that’ll hold for being a mother; however, when Ron gets home earlier than expected, she realizes she doesn’t need to be great at everything so long as she’s got him beside her. (Oneshot) Rated G.

Big in Japan: Harry Potter is a famous rockstar out on a world tour— but when one too many meet-and-greets threatens to drive him insane, he takes an escapade out into the streets of Tokyo, where he ends up at an expat bar with a captivating redhead that seems totally unaware of who he is, or why she should know him at all, for that matter. (Muggle AU oneshot) Rated E.

Teaspoon Vindication: After escaping Malfoy Manor, Ron comes to visit Hermione in her room at Shell Cottage, and does the one thing that may be the hardest for him— talking about his feelings. (Romione oneshot)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try my best, though I don’t always get to all of them! My reasoning is that if folks are kind enough to tell me how much they enjoyed my writing, the least I can do is thank them for their lovely words.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

The Last Farewell! It’s a Wolfstar oneshot, set in canon universe, where Remus comes to Sirius’s grave to ask for his blessing (and forgiveness) to marry Tonks. It was angst central from the start and I even wrote it while listening to an angsty song.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I generally write happy, fade-to-black endings, but if I had to choose I’d say Truth or Dare. This is a male!Hermione x Ron summer camp AU born of a game of spin-the-bottle/truth-or-dare that ends with them figuring out their feelings go beyond friendship. I say it is the happiest ending because I think the “boy figuring out he likes boys” scenario has been overdone in angst a bit too much, and the fact that the feelings are reciprocated and they decide to stay in touch would make me giddy if I was their age and in their shoes. Anyway, it’s just a sweet ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

Not at all— I actually don’t like crossovers at all, so I have never even entertained reading, let alone writing, one. (No hate at all to those with imaginations large and strong enough to conjure up awesome crossovers— I am in awe of you all, they’re just not for me!)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Never, luckily, since the Romione community is so lovely and supportive! But, though not outright hate, for a while I had an anonymous FFN reviewer who left reviews on every chapter of Rosebury Grounds saying that my title was a porn/sex act...? I was distraught and scoured Google to see if they really were right and this was some obscure euphemism I’d entirely missed, but turns out it wasn’t, and they had gotten confused with a vulgar but similar term. So I ignored those reviews but they kept coming and then eventually one time I found a 500 word very graphic description of the sex act in question in my reviews, so desperate was the reviewer (apparently) to get their (wrong) point across. Yikes.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! I’ve written a lot and of many kinds— explicit, implied, just foreplay, fade-to-black, referenced... I’ve written both M/F and M/M.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No— I didn’t even know that was something I should worry about!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I speak fluent Spanish, so I’m planning on translating In Another Universe and Rosebury Grounds myself once I’ve finished the latter.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, the most I’ve done is beta from the plot-building stage!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Gahhhh don’t make me pick! Romione (HP) is first in my heart because I see so much of myself and what I want in it, but Samfro (LOTR) is, to me, the truest depiction of love in all of literature, ever. I will forever come back to it.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I hope to finish my Hogwarts Actually series that I started for Romionecom (hi, Discord friends!) inspired by Love Actually. I have it all planned out, translating all the relationships in the movie to HP pairings and friendships, and all I need to do is write— but I think I’ll come back to this periodically and unoften. Hopefully I’ll finish it!

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think that I write good and witty dialogue. I’m a theatre person, so I think my dialogue sounds mostly natural when spoken. I also have a good sense of beginning and ending, so most of my works/chapters start and end with a memorable phrase of some sort. I also have excellent grammar and spelling, so except for a few occasional typos, that makes the job of proofing much easier!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I sometimes write sentences that are waaaay too long and convoluted. I use words that are too big sometimes and just take approachability from my writing. Fanfic has been excellent to practice correcting this, though!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

As a bilingual writer myself— don’t write dialogue in other languages unless you speak it well or get it translated directly through someone who speaks it well. Though I appreciate the effort, I can always tell when something was put through Google Translate, and that kind of dialogue most often ends up lacking the context clues/colloquial familiarity of real language speakers, and ends up sounding stiff and forced.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m not proud of it, but I used to write MCR RPF back when I was 13 or so. It was a very brief stint and I have since deleted the works in their entirety, since my principles have evolved to the place where RPF to me seems disrespectful and invasive. Plus, it was on Wattpad.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Again, don’t make me pick please!! I truly have had a lot of fun with Rosebury and I think it is a testament to how much I love it that I was able to keep the idea on hold for a full six months before I started writing it. I love the Downton setting and the Edwardian dialogue is a lot of fun to me. But I also have a soft spot for the In Another Universe original oneshot I submitted to the RFF2020— that work awoke my love for Muggle AUs (which I like to think I’m most known for), inspired me to start work on my first multichap fic, and keeps me coming back to it anytime I have doubt in my ability to write swoonworthy scenes. It was the oneshot that started it all.

Tagging: @accio-broom @be11atrixthestrange @folk-melody (and anyone else who would like to!)

#fanfiction #fanfic writer #rosequartzstars #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic author

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so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed · 3 years

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Ask for writers

I was tagged a while ago by @theisolatedlily @zanniscaramouche and @tomlinvelvetfics. Sorry it took a while!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted: I’ve been writing since I was literally able to, but I first started writing fanfic on ff.net back in the good old days. I wrote HP fanfic, among other things. In 2012 I made the switch to AO3 and started writing Ziam fanfic.

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?: I’m very similar to Louis in a lot of ways, so his POV definitely comes easiest to me. When I’m writing Ziam I find that I prefer to write from Liam’s POV, though I don’t feel I’m necessarily similar to Liam.

3. where do you often find inspiration?: Movies, shows, random posts on Tumblr.

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?: Not necessarily either of them, I feel. I’ve had a little bit more time but since I don’t work much I’ve always had the time to write. It’s more the other way around, writing has helped my quarantine.

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence? Silence. I can’t write with music on.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?: In general, bad grammar or ooc characters pulls me out of a story really quickly. I don’t tend to read much fic, since I don’t want other people’s writing style to seep into my writing, so I suppose that would be my own biggest pet peeve, is when I find that I’m not writing in my own voice.

7. describe your ideal writing setup: Basically just at my desk, in a good chair, because right now my chair sucks and my back issues are making me lightheaded a lot, which is why I haven’t written as much as I want to.

8. favorite time of day to write?: Early in the morning/day. When I don’t work I like to write from around 9-11 am since I have the most energy in the morning.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?: Fantasy, for sure. Soulmates/fates/dystopia fics are still great.

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it? I do when I haven’t been writing for a while, I need to be in tune with my story to really keep it flowing. I tend to force myself through it by just committing to certain times to write, and trying to keep that regularly so I don’t stray too far from the fic.

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult? I tend to write as I go, meaning that I sit down and the words just come pouring out. When I’ve outlined and I feel like I need to stick to that, it sort of feels stifling and I struggle, so I’m best at just free writing and letting the story go where it needs to go.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable): I don’t usually write original characters into my stories, but if I did it’d be from people I know or based roughly on characters in shows/movies.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word? My absolute least favorite word is cum. Especially as a verb. That’s a hard no from me. I don’t really have a favorite word.

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?: I feel I’m a pretty solid story teller, and that I manage to put emotion into my work that translates to the people who read it. I want to keep working at my craft, I don’t feel there is something I’m particularly bad at, but I know I can improve a lot.

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?: Definitely there’s no fair in farewell. It’s been in my head since 2014 and I finally sat down to write it in 2017/2018. It’s got so much world building and such a unique storyline, I’m still so proud of it. I don’t remember how I came up with it, it sort of feels like the story’s always been there, just waiting for me to sit down and tell it.

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?: calibi, 11, single space.

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?: I don’t really know? I don’t think I make a lot of consistent typos. I just write fast and mess up words on the regular lol. but this is a question better suited for my beta, @lightwoodsmagic!

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?: Yeah I really only write AUs.

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?: Angst is my absolute favorite. I love writing emotional stories, with a lot of introspective characters. I feel that lust is the hardest to write since I’m aroace and I just cannot compute that people want to do the deed lmao.

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?: that there is always hope and fate always works her way.

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?: The best is to not compare yourself to anyone else, since it’s a race you’ll inevitably lose. The worst, oof, I don’t really know.

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?: There’s no fair in farewell, absolutely. I feel like it has movie potential.

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?: Chronologically. Usually my stories go where they want to go, so if I wrote out of order none of the scenes would match up.

24. how do you handle criticism?: My first instinct is to be frustrated. My second, more thoughtful attitude, is that I will listen if it’s something I feel is valid. I am very vulnerable in my works and so criticism feels personal sometimes, but I’m also secure enough in my work to know when something is valid and when I should stick to my own ideas.

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?: Do it. Write what appeals to you. Write from your heart and your soul.

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?: Any comment is great, but I love when people point out the parts that made them emotional or that resonated with them. I love when people pick out quotes that they say helped made them feel better.

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?: Oof. I don’t think I’d want to exist in most of my AUs. I’m pretty content with my life as is, but I’d love to befriend Zouis in my Zouis wallsficfest fic just because I am that mom friend and they both needed hugs.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?: I’d love to get asks about my fics in general! These asks are pretty damn fun!

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?: It’s added so much love. Love for my writing, love for the stories and universes I put out. And love in the form of dear writer friends who have enriched my life and who have become some of my most favorite people.

30. why do you write?: because I’m a writer and I have to.

boost yourself + tags!

1a. share the last sentence you wrote:

The only one who has a choice is Harry, and this time, Louis will have to listen to it.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about:

I’m only working on my @onedirectionbigbang which is a Pygmalion fic and it’s so far 27k of pining and angst and if that doesn’t tell you enough IDK what else to tell you

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of:

Nothing particularly comes to mind at the moment.

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s):

I always try to start and finish with a good line. Here’s the ones from TNFIF:

Sometimes, when he looks down, Louis envies them.

And every day he thanks God for giving them the chance to find each other.

5a. link the last fic you read:

I uh, kind of reread my own fic last night, does that count? It’s under the moonlight

6a. link the last work you published:

My christmasfest fic room for your love underneath this tree

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable):

we_are_the_same

8a. someone that inspires you:

Louis Tomlinson, and as far as writers go, @londonfoginacup and @lightwoodsmagic

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year:

I truly don’t read much, but anything Emmu writes is top notch for comfort honestly. She infuses her fics with so much warmth and charm that I can’t help but fall in love with every universe she creates.

Alright, I think a lot of people have already done this, but if you haven’t and want to, consider yourself tagged! I’m gonna tag @lightwoodsmagic @jacaranda-bloom @disgruntledkittenface @fallinglikethis @vintageumbroshirt and @dinosaursmate just to see if they want to share!

#fic writer asks #ask fic writers #fic interview

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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Hi! Can you write a Morpheus x reader where they have a big family (like five kids, with one on the way) and have been married for like 12+ years with their oldest kid being born a year into their marriage and it’s just Morpheus being a dad and him and the reader being a family with their kids (oh! Like a scene where their kids interrupt him during his serious work wanting to hang out with their dad)

Papa! Papa!

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: Just a normal average day in the Dreaming with 1 mom, 1 dad, 5 kids and 1 on the way [sips tea] [butterfly fluttering] [dumpster fire] [caveman music].

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, wife!reader, mom!reader, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy struggles, 💀children💀, soft dad!dream, my ideal husband!dream, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I LOVE SOFT!DAD FICS (so much so i got carried away T_T) IM SO EXCITED I CAN FINALLY WRITE THIS. also, holyeaglefanlawyer since you made another req with a similar prompt, i might make that a p2 but lol it's at the very end of my req list so lskfha;sfsah so. also i had to think of 5 NAMES ASHFAHSF:LASFHAS: DEAD T_T i hope yall like em please names are so hard. i put so much thought into their names gosh ALSO ALSO i describe the features of the kids, but they all register this way mostly because of dream's mystical-ness ya feel, not so much because of yn ok? ok good night im dead now Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx

My eyes rip open at the ear breaking screech that rings through the whole of the Dreaming. I am certain my eyes are blood shot in exhaustion, and yet I power through. I huff as I place a hand on my round belly. I slowly maneuver up on the bed I laid for a nap.

Ah. Naps. Ironic I could not find slumber in the dwelling of the Dream Lord.

I suck in a breath as I internally debate which child busted their lung out in protest of goodness-knows-what this time.

I put on my fuzzy slippers when I get to the side of the bed. I push myself up and sigh as I get to my feet, slowly making my out of my bedroom, my final place of refuge.

Farewell peace, or whatever semblance of it I had.

The moment I exit, there are a chorus of screams, groans, and giggles.

I make it to the entrance of the throne room. Immediately, I see the scattered toys and hundreds of children sprawling the area. Literally. There were a hundred plus children sprawling the area, all copies of my son-

"Noor, please," I shake my head, placing my hand on the child's tiny shoulder, "we talked about materializing copies of yourself."

"Mama!" he says in excitement, dropping the toy horse in his hand, coming up to me, sealing his arms around my legs.

I smile down at him, my little Noor. I brush his golden hair back, bright like the stars, much like what his name meant, light.

"Gadiel and I are playing armies though," the fourth born pouts, pointing across the hall where about a same hundred copies of his older brother, Gadiel, was stationed. He turns to me, gripping me tightly, "I don't want to lose to him again. He- aw!" he cuts himself off, turning to his left, "Hey! THAT HURT!"

I watch as Gadiel and Noor begin to struggle against each other from across the hall, pulling at each other's clothes, smacking each other's face.

Well, I didn't know what I was expecting, but this looked about right.

"BOYS!" I call out sternly.

The copies of my sons all turn to me as my voice echos in the hall.

"Mumma?" a whisper sounds by my ears, undoubtedly my youngest making herself known to me, though she was nowhere near me, and was lost in the sea of her brothers.

All at once, Gadiel and Noor's copies begin to disappear until it is only the Noor by my thigh, pressing his face into me while tears fled his eyes, and Gadiel, a good few feet across the hall, who was quickly making his way over.

Now that the ocean of boys were gone, I spot in the corner, on a carpet, littered with stuffed toys, my daughter, Isra, who was already looking at me, grinning from ear to ear, "Mumma!"

I watch her stand on her tiny legs, her shiny, dark hair, bouncing with every step she took. Journey of the night, the little girl's name meant. I gasp at her journey towards me when she nearly falls.

Gadiel notices my reaction then turns to where I was looking, spotting his little sister. He stops in his tracks, making a u-turn for her, helping her come to me.

I let out a breath at the sight, "good boy."

Upon hearing the praise, Noor looks out at his younger and older siblings, brows furrowing, "mama, he hit me!"

I turn down to Noor, who pulls away from me to point accusingly at his brother again, "he hit me," he repeats then begins to point at his body, "here, here, here-"

"NOT AT THE SAME BODY!" Gadiel cries out, as he holds Isra's tiny hands up while she walks in front of him. "Mama!" he calls, "he hit me too!"

"Mumma!" Isra babbles breaking into a giggle.

I meet my little girl halfway, breathing in deeply before carrying her in my arms. I grunt at the weight of it all, but I push past the heaviness when my daughter giggles and grabs my face, affectionately nuzzling into me.

"Mama look!" Noor complains, pointing to his face, "I think I have a black eye!"

I raise my brows as I look at the boy's spotless face. Gadiel then follows suit, twisting his arm around, pointing arduously at his elbow, "LOOK! HE INJURED ME!"

"THAT'S YOUR BIRTHMARK!" Noor angrily growls.

"AND YOU RUINED IT!" Gadiel bites back.

I sigh, blinking slowly in exasperation. I am calmed when Isra begins to speak nothings to me in her high pitched voice, full of splendor. I swoon at her baby talk.

I smile and nod, "yes, my girl, Gadiel and Noor have been naughty."

The boys do not even hear me when I say this.

God is my fortune, that is what my third born's name means. I must remember that--I have to remember that. God is my fortune. God is my fortune. God is my fortune. God is m-

"Silence."

The two boys jolt in their spots upon hearing the echoing sound of the deep voice of their king.

The next moment, Irsa is taken from my arm. I turn to my right, finding a kiss placed upon my cheek, "my queen, I told you that-"

"PAPA! GADIEL HURT ME!" Noor shrieks, running up to his papa's legs.

"HE HURT ME TOO!" Gadiel runs towards the man he got his blue eyes from.

"Silence!" Dream calls, looking down at his sons, who were now swatting each other. It does not work the second time around.

I release a breath, intervening, "boys."

Still nothing.

"ENOUGH!" Dream says, pushing between the boys, looking down at both of them. Isra, blissfully unaware of it all, begins to aimlessly pat her father's face, just as he begins chastising the two, "it's bad enough you woke your mother-" he stops a moment when the toddler's finger finds its way into his mouth. Dream pulls her arm back, wiping her hand on his collar, "I will not have you show such disrespect by quarrelling before the both of us."

"But papa," the two say weakly in unison.

"No rebuttals," Dream calls, "now-" Isra cuts him off when her hands flails over to his eyes, poking them unintentionally.

Noor slaps a hand on his mouth. Gadiel's cheeks expand as he holds back his laughter.

"Papa," I call, "let me-"

"It's ok, mama," Dream turns to me, raising a hand as he readjusts the child in his arm. I watch as he turns to the boys, who were now hunched over closely to each other, muttering and giggling amongst themselves, surely making fun of their father over what their sister did to him.

"Now," Dream starts, "apologize to each other."

The two let out hushed chuckles as they separate. The seven-year-old presses his lips, "we already did," crossing his arms.

The five-year-old nods his head, struggling to cross his arms, but succeeding eventually.

"Well, I did not hear it," the ???-year-old says to his boys, shaking his head. The three-year-old in his arms rubs her cheek on his shoulder. I coo at the sight of it.

Noor and Gadiel turn to each other, muttering sorry once, turning back to papa after.

"Good enough," papa says, "very well then, begone," he shoos them with a hand.

The two perk up, now off the hook. Noor runs away first, giggling about playing in Fiddler's Green. Gadiel raises a hand, gesturing that Noor should wait. Gadiel turns to his papa, motioning to his jaw, "papa, you have drool on your chin," then runs away with his brother.

I inspect Dream's face, but the man wipes his chin of any evidence before I could spot it.

"I am uncertain if I enjoy how quickly they turn into friends and foes," Lord Morpheus orates as her daughter yawns and begins to nuzzle in the crook of his neck.

I rub her back then caress his cheek, "does it matter if you enjoy it? It's not like it would change the fact."

"I am Shaper of Forms, am I not?" he says, stepping closer, hand coming up to my side.

"Ahhh," I sound, "just like how you said you'd make the twins go to sleep, only to find your powers don't work on them."

Dream turns away, brows raising at the memory, "it's not that my power does not work, it's because their own power that-"

"PAPA, I DID IT!"

The two of us turn our sights to the lanky eleven-year-old boy, waving his hands victoriously as he stands on the throne.

Dream grumbles then points, "off."

The boy drops his hands, jumping off the throne. His twin sister's mocking chuckles are faint in the air.

Dream turns to me, muttering softly, "children."

I snort as my husband leads us to his desecrated chair. I take his free hand and lean into him, continuing his words, "you wanted."

He narrows his eyes , "I am offended by the lone notion."

I break into a laugh. I tilt my head and correct myself, "we wanted."

Dream grabs my hand, placing a kiss at the back of it. He then brushes his hand on my protruding belly amorously, "yes. Every single one."

"Papa!" our eldest calls, meeting us halfway as he excitedly jogs over, "I did it! I got us back here using my own sand!"

"I helped him though!" our second-born calls, one leg thrown on the armrest of her father's throne, "he nearly got us stuck in a vacuum."

Orion rolls his eyes, "did not."

"Did too!" Aurora stomps both her feet on the ground.

"DID NOT!"

"DID T-"

"Silence," Dream mutters under his breath, as not to awaken the napping child in his arms. It is effective to the older children though.

Dream takes the boy's face into his large hand, rubbing his thumb on his cheek, "very good, my son, you have done me proud."

Orion beams, the stardust freckles on his skin shine like the very constellations of his being.

Aurora rolls her eyes, lips curling as she pushes her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around herself, "I did it first though!"

"You did, indeed, my daughter," Dream turns to her, making his way to his throne. The chair widens as to make room for the both of them, "I am proud of you for it," the king sits next to his princess, "and for the assistance you gave our prince."

Aurora turns to her papa. With Isra in one arm, Dream throws the other arm over Aurora's shoulders, pulling her close. His older daughter's hair flutters with a halo like the borealis as she leans into him lovingly.

"Orion, can you make me a cushioned chair with two pillows?" I huff, leaning on my son's shoulders, feeling exhaustion creep up on me.

Dream and Aurora turn to Orion, who then says, "I'll make them the softest, mummy!"

"Moron!" Aurora quips, "she doesn't like super soft pillows."

"Language," I call to my daughter as my son turns to me.

He verifies, "how soft do you want your pillows, mama?"

Aurora pulls away from Dream, walking over to us with a grunt, "let me do it."

"No! She asked me!"

"But you don't even know how-"

The two are silenced when a sofa chair manifests to my side.

"Oh, thank goodness," I sigh, walking over it to sit myself down, "my feet are killing me."

The twins shoot a look of daggers to the man on the throne, exclaiming both at once, "PAPA!"

Dream shrugs, "I know my queen's preferences better all of you combined."

Aurora makes a face, placing a hand on her hip, "psssh, you forgot it was her birthday last time!"

"Yeah," Orion agrees, "and you only thought of giving her a gift because you saw Gadiel and I making decorations!"

"And then you decorated the whole castle yourself!" Aurora exclaims.

"Not cool," Orion ends.

Dream purses his lips at the memory, "I made sure to keep the throne room empty for you to hang your crafts."

"Papa!" she cries, "that's not the point!"

"You shouldn't have manifested decorations," Orion mumbles, "you should have made some with us!"

Dream, in all his power, was nary a match to his twins when they ganged up on him. He rubs Isra's back, pouting in thought, "you know I'm not good at crafts."

Aurora rolls her eyes as Orion shakes his head. "We can help you, papa," they say at the same time.

"You're the one who keeps telling us to practice," Orion calls.

Dream- 0.

He sighs, "I am defeated."

"Yeah," Aurora says, as though it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well," Dream says, turning his gaze from the twins, "I do hope you enjoy..." he trails off upon seeing the blissful form on the chair.

"Mama fell asleep," Aurora pouts.

Orion, catching this as well, rubs his hands together, "I can bring mama to her bed-"

"No!" Dream calls, waving his hand, doing the deed himself, "you must not attempt to do such a thing! Do you understand?!"

The twins turn to their papa, alarmed by his grave tone, "your mother is pregnant and you both are just barely capable of bringing yourselves back and forth to the Dreaming."

Orion frowns, as does his sister, "but you said you were proud of us, papa."

"I am," he says, standing from his throne as Isra sighs in his arms, "but mama is not like us, remember? She could get hurt, and your baby sibling could get hurt too."

The girl remembers something because of that. "Oh, papa!" Aurora calls, "we have something to tell you."

Dream knits his brows, "what is it?"

Aurora turns to her twin, nudging him. Orion has no clue what she is talking about. She waits a moment, makes a face, then grunts in annoyance. She decides to tell him herself, "we think mama is pregnant with twins!"

"What?!"

Orion suddenly remembers, "oh. OH! Yeah, yeah! We saw a vision about it."

Dream gulps, clutching the babe in his arms.

"Oooooooh!" Aurora calls excitedly, "I hope they're both girls!"

"NO!" Orion complains, "one of them at least has to be a boy."

"Ew no! There are enough yucky boys in this family."

"You're yucky!"

"YOU'RE YUCKY!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY A BUGGER!"

"EW!" Aurora shoves Orion, "YOU'RE PEE!"

Orion cringes, "WELL YOU'RE POOP!"

Dream rubs his face, internally planning the best way to break the whole 'carrying twins news'. He releases a breath.

"Children," the king calls, "are you sure of your vision or is it just twin propaganda?"

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #the sandman x reader #morpheus fluff #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dad!dream of the endless #dad!dream #girl dad!dream #papa bear!dream

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lokimostly · 5 years

Text

Polaris (Ch.2/?)

Loki x Reader, Pirate!AU Word count: 3,707 Warnings: mentions of blood, angst Summary: Your life has always been set in stone. Born to a wealthy merchant family in the Caribbean, you’ve spent your years as an heiress in the daytime, escaping at night to wander the streets of St. Thomas. Now, on the eve before your life settles into mundanity for good, you discover someone who could change everything– if you choose to trust him, that is.

A/N: Tag list is open! Sorry for any typos, I really need a beta reader, lol. Enjoy!

Previous Chapter ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Five ~ Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Ten ~ Chapter Eleven ~ Chapter Twelve ~ Chapter Thirteen ~ Chapter Fourteen

“Daughter, if we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late!”

“It’s not like it starts without me!” You snapped. You heard your father let out an exasperated noise, quickly followed by his footsteps down the hallway, and then they disappeared entirely. He’d given up fighting with you for the meantime, it seemed.

One of the maids your father employed stuck her head cautiously through your open door like she was peeking into the lair of a waking dragon. “Miss, would you like any help–”

“– I’m fine,” you replied curtly. “You may go.”

She dismissed herself with a relieved expression.

You returned your gaze to the vanity mirror in front of you. You didn’t look anything like yourself. Your hair had been tousled with and brought to heel, stacked so high that you felt like you might topple over if you leaned your head the wrong way. Your face was painted with vermillion, cheeks unnaturally red. Your lips were pigmented, too– they tasted sour and metallic when you ran your tongue over them.

You stared at yourself. You looked miserable. Your eyes dropped to the ornate set of jewelry that had been laid out for you on the vanity. You sighed noisily and reached up to the mountain of hair, searching for the clips that held it so carefully in place. If you were going to be forced into a corset, an obnoxiously heavy dress and even heavier jewelry, you had to compromise somewhere. Besides, how was your future fianceé supposed to know what you looked like if he couldn’t see your real features?

You paused with a hair clip between your fingers. Huh. You’d never thought about your betrothed before. Not as a person, at least – he was always a concept, an abstract figure that you could argue about and passionately loathe for ruining your life’s plans. You didn’t even know what he looked like.

If you were lucky, he might be that handsome stranger.

You threw away the thought just as quickly as it came, and began undoing the mountain of curls on your head. What a foolish thing to think. You’ll never see him again. You don’t even know his name.

He didn’t know yours, either. It was an arrangement he suggested at the beginning of the night, and you had agreed. After all, the less he knew about you, the better, right?

But he was the first thing on your mind when you were roused by the maids, only a few hours after falling into bed. You blamed the dark circles under your eyes on a bad night of sleep, on account of nervousness – which was laughable. This marriage had been arranged since before your birth. What did you have to be nervous about?

After you pulled a final clip your hair came loose, tumbling down your back in loose curls. Much better. You sighed again – you seemed to be doing that a lot lately – and gave yourself one last look. No, as much as you could daydream about the handsome stranger who walked along the docks with you on your last night of freedom, you knew the truth. You would never see him again.

You tried to convince yourself that it was for the best.

“Daughter–”

“I’m coming down!” You called, pulling at the dress to try and ease your discomfort somehow. It was peach-colored – sweet, soft and innocent, as you were supposed to be. You reached up and rubbed the back of your hand against your lips, removing the blood-red stain from them at the last minute.

You could practically feel your father’s veins about to burst when he called you again, this time by your first name. You picked up the hem of your dress, stood, and smiled politely at your reflection: half-practice, half-goodbye. This was, after all, your farewell to your better self. The girl that would walk out of your room would be someone else entirely.

Your eyes pricked with tears and you inhaled quickly– no crying. Instead, you put your chin up, took as deep a breath as you could manage, and walked out the door.

The lone candle stood flickering on the windowsill.

It was mid-afternoon by the time you arrived.

“You changed your hair,” Your father observed as he stepped out, offering you his hand.

“It looks better this way,” you replied testily, taking it. You picked up the fabric of your dress with one hand and carefully descended the steps, until your soft-soled slippers touched cobblestone. You purposefully avoided your father’s expression of displeasure. Instead, you looked ahead.

The estate was enormous. You couldn’t have imagined a house so large, even though yours was the biggest in St. Thomas by far. There were more windows than you could count. The gardens went on forever. Ornate pillars of alabaster stone framed a wide, curving staircase up to the gilded double doors. They were wide open: music and light chatter flooded out like water, ringing out across the grounds and reaching you even as you stood in the drive.

“It seems that it does start without you,” Your father remarked as he offered you his arm– a jab at your comment from earlier.

Your eyes flitted over the estate with an unenthused expression. However skilled the musicians inside may have been, to you the distant music only sounded discordant.

You took his arm and travelled up the stone walkway. Your stomach felt like it was sinking to the depths of the ocean. By the time you reached the stairs, you were surprised there wasn’t a visible thundercloud looming over your head. The servants at the door greeted you – you didn’t hear a word.

When you came through the foyer and into the main ballroom, you had begun preparation for a swift exit.

There were too many people, far too many. The afternoon heat only amplified your feeling of claustrophobia. The room was obscenely large and still felt crowded: lords and ladies dressed to the nines, not a beauty mark or a wig hair out of place. You were immediately grateful for altering your appearance. You stood out now. To this crowd, you undoubtedly looked childish and plain. To your fianceé, at least you might look something like yourself.

A string quartet played subdued, slightly melancholic notes from one corner. You were reminded of the four-string fiddler in the tavern last night – and the sea-green eyes of the man who’d saved you. You felt a pang in your chest. Why hadn’t you run away for good? Smuggled yourself onto a ship and let it take you far away from this?

I’m a coward, you thought miserably, as you flashed a reassuring smile towards your father. No matter how hard I try, I’ll will always be afraid.

You were vaguely aware that the servants had announced your presence, because suddenly the music quieted, and everyone turned to look at you. Hundreds of eyes burned holes in your skin, tearing apart your clothes, makeup, expression– you felt more naked than if you’d stripped. And yet muscle memory prevailed: you smiled, just enough to look seemly, and told yourself it would all be over soon.

Your father tugged subtly on your arm, ushering you into the room. Your heart felt like a bird trying to escape through your chest as you continued to draw the gaze of the crowd. Why were they still staring? Surely your appearance wasn’t that shocking.

“My friend, how good to see you. You look well.”

You turned your gaze and found your father shaking hands with someone: an older man. Your soon-to-be father-in-law. You knew him only by the name of his company: Odin & Sons, the wealthiest shipping merchants in every corner of the Caribbean. Unlike most of the English guests, he wore no wig or lace-covered clothing. There were a few metal clasps in his greying hair, and nothing more. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recognised it to be a more traditional Scandinavian style of dress.

Not that it matters, you reminded yourself. He’s the richest man in the South Pacific, he can wear what he likes.

“And you must be her,” he said, turning his attention to you and extending his hand. You snapped out of your thoughts and forced a smile, giving it to him. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles as you curtsied.

“It’s an honor, Sir,” you said robotically, faltering a little at his title- you weren’t sure if it was the right one.

He noticed, and chuckled. “Odin will suffice, my dear.”

You forced a titter through your lips and straightened up – a small laugh that meant silly me, what an easy mistake. There had to be some kind of award for a performance this convincing.

Odin gestured broadly behind him, directing your gaze as he spoke. “May I introduce my sons– Thor, my firstborn, and Loki.”

Your eyes fell on the two tall figures, and then your jaw dropped.

It was him.

The one who walked the town with you last night, who saved you in the tavern, standing there and smiling with all the congeniality his handsome face could offer, like nothing had happened.

And next to him was your fianceé.

“My dear, that’s hardly becoming,” your father teased nervously, and you quickly closed your gaping mouth. Your father chuckled, trying to make light of your inappropriate expression. “I hadn’t told her of your son’s good looks.”

Thor laughed, and you looked at him for the first time. He was good-looking. Like his father, his golden hair was pulled half-back and tied with metal clasps; there were a few braids hiding behind his ears as well. Broad shouldered, with a light beard and twinkling blue eyes … yes, he was handsome.

But then there was Loki.

Gone was the simple dress you’d seen him in the night prior. The wide-sleeved shirt he wore now was a deep sea-green, embroidered to shimmer like water when he moved. The only addition to his appearance was a loose braid that fell to his collarbone, but God if it didn’t do wonders. He looked marvelous: understated yet elegant, with a smirk that betrayed exactly nothing. Even here, he had that air of mystery, like he was somehow a touch out of place.

You let Thor take your hand automatically, but your eyes stayed fixed to his brother: staring at him with such intensity that you were surprised you didn’t leave burn marks in his forehead.

It’s me, your eyes said desperately. We’ve met before.

Loki’s eyes said nothing in return.

“May I have the first dance?” Thor asked politely. Right, there was dancing. You broke your gaze from Loki (with difficulty) and allowed Thor to take you from your father, capturing you with a hand around your waist. You stiffened at his touch, and then forced yourself to relax. This would be your husband soon— you couldn’t flinch every time he touched you.

The string quartet music swelled and in one choreographed movement, the guests paired themselves up. You knew how to dance, of course, but given the nature of your predetermined marriage you had never actually danced with anyone other than your instructor.

“You must forgive me,” Thor said, smiling apologetically. “I’m usually too busy for dancing. I haven’t made a habit of it.”

“You and I both,” You responded distractedly. Your hand barely touched his shoulder as the music steadied to a waltz. Simple enough. You avoided Thor’s gaze like the plague, looking around the room instead – searching for his brother. Did he really not recognise you, after last night’s excursion? Your appearance wasn’t that different.

Then again, if he was feigning ignorance, you wouldn’t be surprised. He had already proved that he was clever beyond your understanding.

“Your hair is lovely.”

You forced yourself to pay attention to your partner. “Thank you,” you murmured, still avoiding his gaze. “I like yours, too.”

On cue with the music, Thor spun you out and brought you back seamlessly, pulling you to him once more. You found yourself staring at the floor, watching the marble tiles move beneath you. He was obviously taking great care not to step on your feet.

“If we are going to be wed, we should learn to look each other in the eye,” he said gently.

Your gaze snapped up to him as your face flushed. Apparently Loki wasn’t the only one with a watchful gaze. “My apologies.”

“Not necessary,” He smiled, which only made you feel worse.

There was another beat of music-filled silence. You combed your brain for something witty to say, and came up empty. How were you supposed to talk to him? With respect? As a friend? The two of you barely knew each other– you hadn’t the faintest idea where to begin.

You heard Loki’s familiar, musical laugh and glanced across the dance floor– he had a woman caught up in his arms, spinning her like she weighed nothing and smiling as though he was having the time of his life. You felt an unfamiliar twinge of jealousy, and quickly shoved it back down, forcing yourself to look at Thor again.

By the time you had half a sentence constructed in your mind, the song was over.

Thor parted from you and bowed politely, offering you a genuine smile. “If you’ll excuse me – there is business to attend to that I must oversee.”

Your eyebrows raised and you managed to conjure a mildly disappointed expression. “Oh, it’s alright,” you said, and gave him a condoling smile. “I understand.”

“Don’t worry, brother,” came a familiar voice over your shoulder, as two large hands set themselves on your shoulders. You froze. “I’ll ensure that she won’t perish of boredom.”

Thor laughed. “I have no doubt of that.” He gave you a final nod, and strode through the crowds, disappearing from your sight.

As soon as he was gone, you whirled around with wide eyes, feeling like you were about to combust. “You–” you began accusingly.

He didn’t let you finish. Instead, he swept you up into his arms just as the music swelled again, grasping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. It sent shivers up your spine that you did your best to ignore.

“Darling, we must stop meeting like this,” he said, and began twirling you across the dance floor. You were forced to stare at his face so you wouldn’t get dizzy. He led effortlessly, weaving through other pairs and picking you up off the ground by a fraction of an inch when called for – unlike Thor, whose dancing required rigid focus, you felt free in Loki’s arms.

Loki. You savored the name in your mind, wondering how it would taste on your tongue. It certainly suited him.

“So you did recognize me,” you said, after you’d reigned your thoughts back in and remembered what you were talking about.

Loki merely smirked, tilting his head slightly in a nod. “You’re hard to forget.”

Your cheeks burned and you scowled. “Don’t try and flatter your way out of this,” you warned him. “Did you know I was your brother’s betrothed when we met? Is that why you wouldn’t tell me your name?”

“Surprisingly, I was unaware,” he admitted, lifting you up and forcing you to hold tightly to his shoulder before setting you back down again. So fluid and simple, but your heart was racing from the adrenaline of it. “It’s a shame. He’ll have a hard time reining you in.”

Your scowl deepened as you tried to discern the meaning behind his statement. “Is that an insult?” You asked, gazing up at his face. Goodness, that jaw of his could cut glass.

In contrast to your faithful stare, Loki’s eyes never seemed to meet yours. “A compliment,” he corrected. He spun you out without warning, pulling you in and holding your back against his chest. His elegant hands gripped your waist just enough to lead without ever making you feel like he was touching you indecently. The irony was that it left you wanting for more of his touch. You wanted to feel his fingers dig against your skin.

You felt a surge of guilt. You shouldn’t be thinking of him that way, not when you were going to marry his brother.

Why wouldn’t it have been him?

He brought you back to face him once more, catching your hand and bowing as the song ended. Unlike the first, this waltz seemed only too short. You had a hard time masking your regret when you curtsied.

Then he offered you his hand again.

“What say we catch our breath?”

The gardens were a maze. Tall, neat hedges lined the walkways and climbing vines wove around overhanging tree branches, hiding you from the sweltering heat of the evening sun. The grass underfoot was obviously well-tended: there wasn’t a blade out of place.

Loki looked different in sunlight.

The night before, you hadn’t been blessed by the opportunity to observe him in full. You had only seen the shadows and suggestions of his features, alluding to what he truly looked like. Now, you could see the curve of his cheekbones, the angle of his nose, the way his eyes spoke volumes before he ever said a word. He was mesmerizing, and you had a difficult time diverting your eyes.

So he’s not a pirate after all, you thought amiably. Just a wealthy merchant’s second son.

When you put it like that, he hardly sounded impressive – but he held your fascination nonetheless.

“Tell me, is there something on my face?” He asked suddenly without looking at you. His eyes were, in fact, drawn upward towards the low-hanging bows of the trees.

Your face flushed and you diverted your gaze. “No. I’m sorry, it was rude of me to stare.”

“You’ve been doing it all evening, don’t stop now,” he remarked sarcastically, dropping his eyes and gazing at you. In the light of day, they were more of a light green than the deep sea color you had previously thought. “And you sound terribly mechanical when you talk that way.”

You pressed your lips together to hide a smile, and dropped the formalities. “You don’t know me like you think you do.”

It was true, to an extent: you had told him almost nothing about yourself last night. Then again, you knew he saw more than he let on.

But to your surprise, he agreed. “No, I don’t.” He paused, slowing down to consider the roses that were blooming elegantly along the archway above you. They were the same color as your dress. “But I know you’re already tired of him.”

You frowned. “Thor?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Stupidity isn’t becoming on you, either. Who else?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and watched him through narrowed eyes as he looked up at the roses. “I’ve only just met him, I couldn’t be tired of him.”

“I saw your face.” Loki reached up, and there was a small snap as he broke the stem of one flower between his fingers. “This world you’ve found yourself in, full of business meetings, garden parties, empty conversations– it bores you to tears. And Thor is all of that personified.”

His voice and face held no emotional weight– only cold calculation. He was stating a matter of fact.

You reached out to take the flower when he offered it. The wheels of your mind mulled over his words. He was probably right... they had grown up side by side, and if Loki said it, then it must be so.

Thor had left you for a business meeting right after your dance. You hadn’t cared at the time. But the duration of your interaction – and the fact that it felt like he was doing the bare minimum – did make his entrance into your life lackluster. And when you married him, what then? The least you could expect from your fianceé was his attention. And today, Thor hadn’t been able to give you that.

You had a feeling it wasn’t going to change.

Loki watched silently as you thought it over and your countenance fell, and he hummed through his nose.

You looked up sharply. “What?”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, smirking. “So unhappy and yet you do so little to prevent it.”

You stiffened as a rush of heat rose to your face. “You don’t know me,” you repeated, more serious this time.

“No?” He asked, stepping towards you so suddenly that you took a few steps back, hitting the trunk of a willow tree. The bark dug into your back as you stared up at him with wide eyes.

His expression had changed. The deep sea-green color of his eyes was back, dark and dangerous like an impending storm.

“I know that it wasn’t just surprise that held your gaze on me and not your beloved,” He stated. His voice was low and sultry as he reached forward, holding your chin between his forefinger and thumb so you wouldn’t look away. “Tell me, little one, when you’ve finally wedded him and resigned yourself to a life full of everything you despise, how long will it take before I find you in my bed, whimpering in the dark, begging me for the comfort your husband cannot give?”

There was a sharp sound.

You stared, petrified, as you watched the pale skin of Loki’s cheek blush crimson from where your hand had struck him. He pulled away from you and reached up, slowly, ghosting his fingers over his skin.

You were speechless.

Loki stepped away, leaving you pressed against the willow. You were gripping the rose so tightly that the thorns had pricked your skin, little rivulets of blood trickling through your fingers. Your chest heaved with emotion, but still you made no sound.

He chuckled, dropping his hand and narrowing his eyes. His genuine smile sent a shiver down your spine - and not an unpleasant one, either.

“I think," he said slowly, offering you his arm with a smirk to walk back, "that you and I are going to get along.”

Next Chapter

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cogentranting · 4 years

Text

Who wants to read the 20 page Warrior Cats fanfiction I wrote when I was twelve that I have no memory of writing but that was just mailed back to me by a friend I haven’t seen in probably eight years?!!

You’re in luck! Here it is, in all its glory, with spelling errors, inconsistent capitalization, typos and weird storytelling choices all left perfectly intact in order to truly capture my childhood essence. Also it’s missing the first nine pages but I swear they don’t matter.

Also available on AO3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077949

She-cat called Mousetree sat flicking her ears irratabley. “One of those kits should have been mentored by me. I’m older and more experienced and I’ve never had an aprentice.” Mousetree wailed.

The Thunderclan deputy, a large silver and black tabby with a twisted foot, Thistlefoot, listened quietly. When he responded his voice was calm and even. “It was up to Moonstar to decide who mentored them. She believed that there were things that Poppypelt and Pinecloud could teach them that you could not.”

“Such as?” growled Mousetree.

“Poppypelt and Pinecloud are very calm and reserved. Those aprentices need caution more than anything. And you tend to have a bit of a temper, something kits with that much energy don’t need. I’ll look into getting you an aprentice but there’s not much I can do. Now, I believe I asigned you to the dawn patrol. You’d best get some rest.”

Thistlefoot was well respected in all the clans, and few could match him as a fighter. Despite his bad paw he was swift and strong. He was expected to be a strong Leader.

As Mousetree stormed off the lovely Moondust entered. “Who’s going to the gathering tonight?” Moondust mewed politely.

Thistlefoot sighed and listed the cats. “Rosesky, Swamppaw, Sunpaw, Snowfur and Thunderpaw, Foxtail, Lion’sMane and Sundrown and you. AcornHead’s being left in charge while we’re gone. Can you tell everyone for me? I have to talk to Moonstar.”

“Okay. I better get on it.” Moondust mewed.

Thistlefoot slowly made his way to The leaders den beneath the highrock.

“Moonstar? I have an odd feeling that something strange is going on.” Thistlefoot began worriedly. “We haven’t seen any of the clans for a moon.”

“Shouldn’t that be considered a good thing? We don’t want trouble with the other clans.” Moonstar did not seem scornfull or indifferent only puzzled.

“I agree, but why should they be so peacefull? I’m only saying that we should be prepared.”

“Thank you Thistlefoot. I’ll remember that. Its time to leave for the gathering.”

“Yes Moonstar.”

************

Sundrown, a golden tabby she-cat, stared across the clearing at FourTrees. Shadowclan and Windclan had arrived but there was no sign of Riverclan.

Sunpaw came over and sat down by Sundrown.

“Where could Riverclan be? They should have been here by now”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Riverclan appeared over the crest of the hill.

“Where’s Broadstar? They only brought the deputy, Mossbird.” Puzzled Rosesky approaching Sundrown.

Mossbird ran straight across the clearing and leaped onto the greatrock. The Windclan leader, Ravenstar, and The Shadowclan leader, Tawnystar, looked at each other in confusion.

“Cats of all clans I have important news!” Mossbird called proudly without waiting to discuss with the leaders who would speak first.

Ravenstar moved forward and faced Mossbird.

“I hope Broadstar is well, no bad news I hope?”

“Broadstar is fine. Our clan just has many preparations to make. Broadstar did not wish to come,” Mossbird answered stiffly. “Once again I have important news. Change is coming to the forest. Riverclan has seen it. If we join together Riverclan can lead you through the dangers!”

Moonstar eyes were wide with disbeleif. “What is this danger Mossbird?”

“Why should I, I mean How can I Riverclan help you if you do not join us? Broadstar will give you one moon to make your decision.” She curled her lip in a sneer. “I’m finished. You may continue with your worthless gossip of kits and warriors, soon that will all be a thing of the past.”

The rest of the gathering passed uneventfully, every cat was to busy thinking over the odd proclamation of Riverclan to pay much attention to the rest of the talk. Every cat seemed bewildered, even Riverclan.

Back at the camp Thistlefoot entered the leaders den to see Moonstar pacing wildly.

“Are we going to join Riverclan Moonstar” Thistlefoot mewed quietly.

“I’m not sure. They would not say what the danger was.” She frowned. “I’m going to speak to Riverclan. I must see Broadstar. I’ll take only Thunderpaw with me.”

“Thunderpaw? Why?”

“He’s an aprentice. A medicine cat aprentice. A sign of peace to show we don’t want to fight. But Thunderpaw is also one of the strongest cats in the clan so if we are unjustly attacked we will be able to defend ourselves.”

“Yes Moonstar.”

As soon as Moonstar and Thunderpaw were out of the camp Thistlefoot arranged to lead a patrol along the Riverclan border.

Thunderpaw tagged along behind Moonstar. He cautiously looked around at the unfamiliar Riverclan territory. It seemed an odd mision to him. Riverclan obivously was not going to tell what the danger was, so why were they crossing into enemy territory?

The wind carried fresh Riverclan scent to Thunderpaw. He stiffened and looked at his leader. Moonstar’s ears were pricked but she merely continued walking. Out of the brush stepped a Riverclan warrior. He growled and took a step backward.

“Take me to see Broadstar,” Moonstar demanded. “I must speak with him.”

The tom nodded and walked forward into the brush. Moonstar followed.

The Riverclan camp was a bustle of activity. The was no fresh kill pile and it did not appear that there were any patrols out. In the center of the activity was Mossbird, shouting orders. When Mossbirds saw them she turned and stormed over.

“Moonstar, what do you want?” It was not spoken as the customary deputy to a leader. It was said as one leader to another.

Moonstar’s voice was cool and even. “I must speak to Broadstar. Take me to him.”

“You come here with one of your strongest warriors and expect to be lead to our leader. Really Moonstar.”

“Mossbird I’m surprised. Thunderpaw is an aprentice. And whats more a medicine cat aprentice. Surely he is not a threat?”

“Hmph. Broadstar does not wish to see anyone, not even his own clan. Why should I take you to him?”

Moonstar’s long white pelt bristled at Mossbird’s arrogant tone.

“Let her in Mossbird,” came a voice Thunderpaw recognized as Broadstar’s.

Mossbird grunted and led them to a thorn bush. Thunderpaw could see a cat moving inside through the leaves.

“The aprentice will stay with me,” growled Mossbird.

Thunderpaw couldn’t hear what Moonstar and Broadstar saying but he could tell by the otne of their voice that something was wrong. After awhile Moonstar rushed out. Her fur was fluffed out and her eyes were stretched wide.

“We’re leaving. Now.” Her voice made it sound as if the world were collapsing beneath her paws.

They left the Riverclan camp in a hurry but Mossbird bounded after them.

“Don’t go the way you came, don’t go over the Stepping Stones. We’ve scented rogues over there. Follow the river to Sunning Rocks. Near there is a fallen tree. You can cross over that way.”

Mossbird nodded a farewell and raced back to her own camp.

As the cats neared Sunning Rocks Thunderpaw stepped in a small hole and fell to the ground. His muzzle was next to a hole identical to the one he’d stepped in. A strange scent flooded his nose. Thunderpaw’s eyes widened in alarm. He raised his head just in time to see a reptilian head emerge from another of the small holes.

“Moonstar!” Thunderpaw’s alarmed call was just enough to urge Moonstar to turn her head. The snakes head darted out to bite Moonstar’s hind leg. Thunderpaw leaped just as the glistening fangs connected in Moonstar’s leg.

Thistlefoot’s patrol pricked their ears. The sounds of a tussle near Sunning Rocks drew them closer. They bounded across a fallen log into Riverclan. A small patch of land lay ahead. Dozens of snake holes littered the ground. Moonstar lay on the ground, gritting her teeth in pain. Thunderpaw was franticly looking about. At his feet lay a dead adder.

“Moonstar! What happened?” mewed Thistlefoot in alarm.

“An adder. I have to get back to camp,” Moonstar muttered.

“Deerleg, you and the others take Moonstar back to camp. Thunderpaw and I have to go warn Riverclan of the adders.”

Thunderpaw once again found himself in the Riverclan camp.

Mossbird came up to greet them.

“Well its the wasted aprentice and the proud deputy. Yes such a waste of a strong cat. Now what do you want this time. An attack?”

“We came to warn you. You have adders near Sunning Rocks. We killed one but there may be more.”

“adders? Really. I trust no one was hurt?”

“We are fine thank you.”

As they turned to leave Thunderpaw glanced back to see Mossbird glaring after them.

The camp was in an uproar. Every cat wanted to know what had happened. Thunderpaw hid in the shelter of Snowfur’s den. Snowfur was worriedly treating Moonstar. Thunderpaw felt like his exhaustion would overwhelm him yet he could not sleep. However sleep finally overcame him.

Thistlefoot’s eyes opened to see Snowfur prodding him. It was the middle of the night and everyone else was asleep.

“It’s Moonstar,” Snowfur wailed. “She wants to see you.”

Thistlefoot imediately jumped to his paws.

At Moonstar’s den Thunderpaw was busily working.

“I’ve got to get some herbs for Moonstar. Thunderpaw will be here,” Snowfur’s meow sounded scared.

Moonstar’s head turned so that she was facing Thistlefoot and Thunderpaw. When she spoke it was in gasps, as if a full sentence would be to much.

“Riverclan… danger. Help… Broadstar. Grab for power. The clan… needs… strong leadership. Beware… Riverlcan. Be a… strong… leader.” Moonstar’s breaths were coming in gasps.

“Moonstar rest, please. You’ll soon be better.” Thistlefoot pleaded.

Moonstar shook her head. “You will… be a strong leader. The clan… is strong.”

“Moonstar. I need your help, Moonstar!”

But Moonstar lay still.

Snowfur came in with a bundle of herbs. She dropped them and lowered her head in grief for her dead leader.

Sunpaw awoke at dawn to an eerie wailing. She padded outside to see The light brown elder, DustThroat, sitting outside the leaders den wailing. The gray and white Tom, Graytail, appeared with the silver taby Tigerstripe. They were carrieing their leader between them.

They placed Moonstar’s body in the center of the clearing. As the rest of the clan awoke and poured out of their den’s wailing broke out at the sight of their leaders lifeless body. Sunpaw searched for Thistlefoot. She spotted him leaping onto the Highrock.

“Let all cats old enough to groom their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a clan meeting.”

Thistlefoot’s deep yowl echoed throughout the clearing and seemed to reassure the clan.

“Moonstar is dead. Killed by an adder bite.”

His voice was thick with grief and his eyes brimmed with sadness.

Snowfur leaped on to the Highrock beside Thistlefoot and began to speak in her quiet reassuring voice. “As our new leader Thistlefoot will be taking a leader’s name. His name shall now be Thistlestar.”

Thistlestar stepped forward. “Graytail take some cats to bury Moonstar’s body. Foxtail take the dawn patrol out. Deerleg you can take a patrol at Sunhigh. Pinecloud take a warrior and your aprentice hunting.” He paused and took a deep steadying breath. “The new deputy of Thunderclan shall be,” he stopped then boomed, “the new deputy of Thunderclan shall be Foxtail!”

No cat who looked in least surprised excepting Foxtail herself. Thistlestar had hoped to cheer the clan with a new deputy and did cheer them a little but not enough.

Foxtail got to her feet. “I would be honored to be the new deputy,” there were a few scattered cheers before Foxtail continued, “but surely there must be someone better, someone with more experience?”

Thistlestar’s deep tone rang out in the forest. “None that I can think of are more suited than you. Foxtail surely you have heard the rumors that you would be the next deputy? Those rumors were spread not just because it was clear you were favored not only by myself but by Moonstar. Those rumors were spread because the clan thought you could do the job and do it well. Although none thought you would have to do it so soon.” As Thistlestar finished Foxtail nodded slowly, as if giving her consent.

Thistlestar repeated loudly, “Foxtail is the new deputy of Thunderclan!” and this time it was met by the applause of a whole clan. The clan was cheering for a new deputy, a new leader, and a new start.

Rosesky paced just inside the gorse tunnel entrance to the camp.

“Where is Thistlestar? Should have been back by now. No organization any more.”

Foxtail trotted up to Rosesky, surprised by the pretty gray she-cat’s distress.

“What’s wrong Rosesky? Anything I can do?”

Rosesky looked at Foxtail. Thistlestar had been a different kind of deputy, more strict and commanding. Foxtail organized patrols but she also seemed to more listening and comforting, no cat could really describe what was so different about her. Because she was not Moonstar or Thistlestar the clan seemed to recoil from her new authority as if she were the adder that had killed Moonstar. Despite all that Rosesky looked at Foxtail with respect.

“No.” She shook her head. “I need to speak to Thistlestar. He’s been out hunting Thunderpaw since dawn. He’s only been leader for four nights and he’s already doing whatever he likes.”

”He needs to think. He takes Thunderpaw out because Thunderpaw is to busy hating himself for not knowing what to do for Moonstar to ask questions. I’ll talk to you and then I’ll tell Thistlestar.”

“Fine. I want Sunpaw to be made a warrior. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made his own apprentice, Leafpaw, a warrior as well. They are the two oldest aprentices besides Thunderpaw. Sunpaw deserves to be a warrior. I think Thistlestar should take them out and assess them. It would boost the clans spirits to have two new warriors.”

“I agree. I’ll speak to Thistlestar.”

Thistlestar trudged through the gorse tunnel at that moment. Rosesky looked excited.

“Thistlestar! We need more warriors. I think Sunpaw and Leafpaw should be made warriors.” Rosesky pricked her ears forward waiting for Thistlestar’s answer to her request.

Thistlestar looked thoughtful. “We’ll do it before we eat tonight.”

Rosesky seemed perfectly content with his answer.

Thunderpaw ducked into the aprentice den. Foxpaw sat up as he entered. Thunderpaw sighed as he sat down.

“I don’t think I want to be a medicine cat.”

Foxpaw started.

“This isn’t because of Moonstar is it?”

“No. It’s… don’t you think I’d be a better warrior? I mean I’m big and strong and I’m having trouble controlling my temper. A medicine cat is supposed to be gentle. I’ve seen Rabbitpaw sitting outside the den and listening to Snowfur teach me. I can’t help thinking Rabbitpaw would make a better medicine cat than me.”

Foxpaw thought a minute. “If that’s the way you feel then you should talk to Thistlestar. You’re just as good a hunter and fighter as any warrior. And you’re right, Rabbitpaw does seem to want to be a medicine cat.”

Thunderpaw nodded. “I’ll talk to him now.”

Thistlestar was in his den when Thunderpaw found him.

“Thistlestar? I’ve come to a decision. I want to be a warrior not a medicine cat. I think Rabbitpaw would like to be Snowfur’s new apprentice, after all Moonstar was her mentor.”

Thistlestar nodded “If you’re sure…”

“Yes Thistlestar.”

“Very well. It’s nearly sundown. I’ll talk to Rabbitpaw and Snowfur.”

******

“Let all cats old enough to groom their own fur gather beneath the Highrock for a clan meeting.”

Thistlestar looked noble and dignified on the Highrock. He held his head with a new air of authority.

“Sunpaw you have trained hard to earn your warrior name. From here on your name shall be Sunset.

Leafpaw you have also trained hard for this moment. Your warrior name shall be Leafstream.

Thunderpaw. You have chosen to become a warrior instead of a medicine cat. Your warrior name shall be Thunderwing.

Rabbitpaw, Moonstar was your mentor. You have chosen to train to become a medicine cat. Snowfur shall now be your mentor.

Thunderwing, Sunset and Leafstream you will sit vigil tonight and gaurd the camp.”

Thistlestar jumped down from the Highrock to signal the end of the meeting.

Stormcloud the black and white she-cat, prowled through the undergrowth with her aprentice, a large ginger tom called Horsepaw, behind her. She scented mouse but ignored it. She wasn’t hunting. Stormcloud was patrolling the Shadowclan border.

Shadowclan scent flooded her nostrils and Tawneystar stepped out of the undergrowth. The Shadowclan leader aproached Stormcloud.

Tawnystar’s ears twitched self consiciously.

“Stormcloud. I came over to warn Moonstar that we’ve seen rogues on your side of the thunderpath. I’d be gratful if you would tell her for me.”

Stormcloud sniffed. She could smell a large Shadowclan patrol. This was no friendly warning.

“Horsepaw go tell… Moonstar… Tawnystar’s.. message. Quickly. I’ll be right behind you.” She turned slowly. Sharp claws grasped her sides and a weight dropped onto her back. Yowling broke out and Stormcloud saw a lean warrior leap on Horsepaw.

Stormcloud hissed and threw off her attacker. Fear for her clan lent her paws speed. Horsepaw stretched out and ran beside Stormcloud. They leapt down the ravine with the Shadowclan cats just behind them. They plunged into the camp.

The prickily Graytail leaped to his feet smelling their fear scent. His closest friends Deerleg and Onestripe were right behind him.

Lion’sMane burst out of the warriors den. “What is it?”

“We’re being attacked.” Yowled Stormcloud.

“Attacked? By one of the other clans?” Wailed Lion’sMane in disbelief.

“No genius. The mice chased us here from the Shadowclan border.” Snapped Stormcloud. She was Foxpaw’s close friend and shared her dislike of the golden tom.

Shadowclan burst into the camp. Graytail flexed his claws and leaped at Tawnystar. Onestripe battled beside him. Moondust and GoldenRain raced into the clearing followed by Thunderwing. It had been five nights since he became a warrior and his choice had left him satisfied. All around the clan was leaping into battle, driving out the Shadowclan cats. As the last Shadowclan cat fled Thistlestar made his way through the triumphantly yowling cats. He leaped onto the Highrock. There was no need to gather the clan, they were already looking up at him.

“With the warnings of danger from Riverdclan, Windclan and Shadowclan are desperate to prove that they are strong. I believe that is why Shadowclan attacked. We must not show weakness and invite attack. That is why I feel that we should not inform the other clans of Moonstar’s death until the next gathering where I will announce it.”

Graytail frowned. “So we should show our strength and attack them!”

Stormcloud growled and got to her feet.

“Oh yeah, Tawnystar looked real strong sitt’in there in the woods lookin’ at her paws and mumbling something about rogues on our side of the Thunderpath!”

“Quiet!” Thistlestar snapped regaining quiet. “Thunderclan does not attack without cause. It was that way with Moonstar and it is that way with me. Skypelt, take Sundrown, Mousetree and Acornhead to make sure Shadowclan has left our territory.”

The tortoiseshell she-cat nodded and led the other three she-cats into the forest.

“Snowfur and Rabbitpaw, start tending wounds. Poppypelt…” He was cut of by Snowfur.

“That reminds me. Poppypelt needs to move into the nursery. Another warrior will have to take over Spottedpaw’s training.”

Thistlestar looked over the cats in the clearing. Skypelt and her patrol had stopped to see who the new mentor would be. Mousetree was looking up hungrily. She had wanted one of these aprentices for herself but Thistlestar new she was not the right cat. Still his decision could make him very unpopular with the firey she-cat. Six other cats stood out at him. Graytail, Deerleg, Onestripe, Thunderwing, Sunset, and Leafstream. Graytail didn’t have the patience for a cat like Spottedpaw. Deerleg showed a strong dislike for the apprentice. Leafstream and Sunset were quite young. That left Onestripe and Thunderwing. They were not as calm as Poppypelt, but maybe they could get Spottedpaw to put her energy to good use.

“Spottedpaw needs a new mentor. Her mentor shall be… Onestripe.”

The white warrior leaped to his feet. He had one ginger stripe running along his flank.

Thistlestar realized that this was the young warrior’s chance to show that he was not just Graytail’s follower. It was his chance to prove himself. Snowstorm, a gray queen, moved forward to congratulate Onestripe.

Something was nagging at the back of Thistlestar’s mind.

“Thunderwing. May I speak to you in my den.”

Thunderwing entered the den to see Thistlestar pacing wildly.

“Thunderwing. Why did you go that way?”

“What?” Thunderwing was bewildered.

Thistlestar snorted impatiently. “Why didn’t you and Moonstar cross at the Stepping stones?”

“Mossbird told us they’d scented rouges near the stepping stones. She told us to follow the river until we’d reached a fallen tree. Why?”

Thistlestar didn’t appear to hear the young tom. The nagging had only grown stronger. Something was out of place.

“You can go now Thunderwing.”

Skypelt, Sundrown, Mousetree and Acornhead stood at the Shadowclan border. They had seen the raiding party cross the hard gray thunderpath and disapear into the undergrowth.

“Let’s wait for a minute to make sure they don’t come back,” suggested Acornhead mildly.

The other she-cats nodded in reply. Soon Skypelt got up to leave. Her thin gold and black body tensed as the roar of an approaching monster on the thunderpath. She turned to see a glistening white monster approaching.

Its hard shiny pelt gleaming in the sun as it swerved as if it were a young kit, still unsteady on its paws. The she cats mouth opened in a yowl of suprprise as the monster leapt of the path and came towards them! The warriors leaped out of the way as the monster collided with a tree. It lay on it’s side, black paws churning in the air. The twolegs inside the monster’s belly looked trapped and began to yowl soundlessly.

Skypelt hissed, her ears pinned back, then led the patrol back towards camp. Once a safe distance away from the thunderpath the ginger Acornhead sat down, shaking her broad head.

“Lousy twolegs. They’ve probably scared away all the prey from this area. Badgers at Snake rocks. Adders at Sunning Rocks. Now this. To top it all off we’ve got an inexperienced leader who leaves camp at dawn and doesn’t come back ‘til sundown.” Wailed Acornhead.

Skypelt frowned. “The adders are across the river and the prey will be back there by the thunderpath by sunhigh tomorrow. Thistlestar was a great deputy and is a great leader. He is not gone all day. Show some respect for your leader.”

“He did a fantastic job reasigning Spottedpaw a mentor,” mewed Moustree with bitter sarcasm.

Sundrown’s face twisted into a scowl. “This is the kind of talk that tears a clan apart. Besides, Onestripe is a quite capable mentor.”

Skypelt sighed. “Let’s just get back to camp and report this to Thistlestar.”

******

Thunderwing, Onestripe and Spottedpaw leaped quickly through the forest.

“So… this… is your…training… plan? Wear… out…Spottedpaw… before… she can… do any… permanent damage.” Panted Thunderwing.

The group stopped to rest. Onestripe shook his head.

“No. I’m getting her to use her energy for hunting and fighting. Although I do try to go quickly.”

Thunderwing laughed. Onestripe seemed like a different cat when he was away from Graytail and Deerleg, less prickly and more open.

“Badgerleg is healed now. He’ll be taking over Starpaw’s training again, leaving Lion’sMane to us.”

Thunderwing hesitated. “Something’s been bothering Thistlestar since Moonstar died. I can’t tell what… and I don’t think he can either. I’m sure it has to do with… what was that?”

A rustle in the undergrowth warned him of approaching cats, and the scent told him they were not from any clan he knew.

Three cats emerged from the ferns, two toms and a she-cat. The invaders hissed and arched their backs.

“Rogues!” Spat Onestripe.

Thunderwing smelled Thunderclan as they were unexpectedly joined by a hunting patrol consisting of Badgerleg, Sunset, GoldenRain and Thistlestar.

The strange she-cat flexed her claws in indignation.

“Rouges! How dare you? We are loyal members of Ledgepack!”

Thistlestar began to look interested.

One of the toms stepped forward, giving the she cat a warning glance.

“We are battlers of Ledgepack. We only wish to pass through your pack’s land. Our pack was driven out and we must find new territory before snowcover.”

Spottedpaw flicked her ears in confusion.

“Snowcover?”

The tom looked uncertain. “Yes. The time of year when snow covers the ground.”

“He means leafbare,” explained Thunderwing.

“Is your whole clan with you?” Thistlestar mewed.

“Our pack is waiting for us in the valley with the four oaks.”

“Fourtrees? The other clans will not be happy to see your there at the gathering tomorrow night.” Thistlestar paused. “You may stay here in our territory until the morning after the gathering. Go and tell your leader and then meet me back here.”

Thistlestar could not really think about what he had just done, he was to busy trying to deal with the horrible suspicion that was forming and replacing the nagging that had been in the back of his mind since the death of Moonstar. A horrible suspicion that Moonstar’s death had been no accident.

His thoughts were put aside as the bushes rustled. The cats tensed, expecting an attack. Out of the bushes burst a young rabbit ran from the bracken, its paws pounding the earth. The patrols nearly laughed with relief.

Soon after the previously seen cats emerged from the bracken. Behind them was an elderly black tom. The black cat stepped forward and dipped his head.

“Greetings. I am Night, ruler of this pack. You have met my scouts Hill,” the ginger tom who done most of the speaking, “Sky,” the she-cat, “and Drop.” The Third cats dipped his head.

Thistlestar’ stepped forward. “I am the leader of this clan. My name is Thistlestar. You’re welcome to stay at our camp. This way.”

The pack followed the clan cats deep into Thunderclan territory.

As they aproached the camp Mousetree and Graytail rushed out, pelts brsitleing.

“They must have smelled Ledgepack,” Thunderwing whispered to Onestripe.

“I’ll announce your presence to the clan,” Thistlestar mewed in his deep growling voice.

“Thunderwing!” The black cat shook himself then looked around to see who had waken him. It was the ginger ledgepack battler, Hill.

The tom came up to him looking uncertain.

“Thunderwing?” Thunderwing nodded and the tom went on, more confidently now. “Your ruler, Thistlestar wishes to see you.”

The pack had just come this morning and they were already relaxing inside the camp. Thunderwing made his way across the camp. He saw the fierce battler, Sky, curled up alongside Mousetree. Hill was approaching Sunset. The tom seemed strangely interested in the she cat. Thunderwing shook off the thought and entered the leader’s den. Thistlestar was lying with his head on his paws as if he were asleep. His eyes were wide open but they looked distant as if his mind was far away.

“Thunderwing,” He spoke in a soft whisper, “we’re going to Riverclan.”

Sunset felt her fur tingle when she saw the handsome ginger tom turn towards her. Hill had hunted with her earlier. Something about the hunt had made her heart beat faster. She felt unexplainable pleasure at seeing Hill.

“Sunset!” Hill purred in genuine delight. “Have you eaten?”

“No. Will you eat with me?” Sunset’s fur grew hot.

Hill seemed pleased. “I’ll get you something for you,” Hill purred. He bounded over to the fresh kill pile and returned with a thrush and a vole.

Sunset took the thrush and they settled down to eat.

“This land is rich with prey, much better hunting land then our old home.” He sighed. “Some of our pack are becoming quite comfortable in your clan and it worried me.”

“Your clan will soon find a new home overflowing with prey.”

Hill looked as if he wanted to say something but had thought better of it. Instead he muttered something about going to talk to Night. Sunset sadly watched him go.

“Thistlestar why are we here?” panted Thunderwing.

Thistlestar did not answer. Instead in reply he snapped, “I smell no rogues.”

Thunderwing stared at his leader in shock. They were in Riverclan territory next to the Stepping Stones.

“Thistlestar that was a moon ago. The rogues Mossbird warned us of would have left long ago.”

“Yes, but when you first entered this territory with Moonstar did you smell rogues?”

“No,” Thunderwing answered hesitantly.

“Hide, a patrol is coming.”

As they hid in the bushes a patrol could be heard.

“Those adders are definatly gone thanks to Thunderclan.”

“They’d been stealing the prey over there for so long I didn’t care who got rid of them.”

“Beechfur. Quiet. I smell intruders.”

Thistlestar stepped from the bushes with his head held high. “I wish to speak to Broadstar.”

Thistlestar sat down in Broadstar’s den. Mossbird was out of camp, otherwise they would not have been allowed in.

Broadstar glanced around anxiously as Thistlestar spoke. “What did you tell her when Moonstar visited you?”

Broadstar’s ears twitched nervously. “I told Moonstar that this was none of my doing. Mossbird has taken over the clan. Only her three thugs and I know that she is in control. My clan thinks I have turned my back on them, ruling them without taking part in their lives. You must not agree to join Riverclan. Mossbird is planning to attack whoever will not join her. She wants it clear that Riverclan is the danger. You will probably have another few days after the gathering. She is not a good planner. She did not stop to think how she would fight three clans with one. Somehow Mossbird will find a way. Remember…” He broke off suddenly. “Yes. Your only hope of a peaceful life lies in Riverclan.”

Thunderwing confusion was clear until he spotted the brown tabby shape of Mossbird through the branches at the back of Broadstar’s den.

Thistlestar picked up on the change immediately.

“The danger comes from behind your territory? That explains why no other clan has foreseen it.”

They paused as Mossbird trotted away.

“As I was saying, remember Thistlefoot, don’t give in to Mossbird’s threats. You should leave now.”

Thistlestar stood and left the den. They crossed the camp without attracting Mossbird’s attention and soon found themselves in their own territory. Beneath the OwlTree Thunderwing and Thistlestar stopped to hunt. The bracken parted to reveal Sunset and Hill, walking so close their pelts touched. Sunset looked embarrassed to be found walking alone with the Ledgepack tom. She lowered her head and stepped to her left at the same time as Hill stepped to the right.

“Hunting?” Thunderwing questioned.

“Uh... yeah… what you said. Hunting,” stuttered Sunset. “We should hunt somewhere else. Right Hill?”

The large tom nodded. Thunderwing smiled as the pair bustled off.

Thistlestar sat down next to Thunderwing. “You do know what we’ve discovered don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Riverclan knew about the adders. There never were any rogues, Moonstar had learned Mossbird’s secret” he paused as Thunderwing shied away half knowing what his leader was going to say. “Mossbird sent you that way on purpose. She made up the rogues. She wanted Moonstar dead, and she succeeded. However, Mossbird has no idea of her triumph. Right now I assume she is terrified that Thunderclan will betray her secret to her clan.”

“Why shouldn’t we? Stop this threat now, once and for all.”

“It would just be our word against hers. As far as their consorned it would be their deputy’s word against a rival clan’s deputy. “

The tom wearily got to his paws and trudged off.

“Did you hear?” Foxpaw raised her head from her mouse when she heard Thunderwing’s voice. The black cat purred at the sight of the red aprentice.

“What?” she mewed gently.

“Rawtooth joined the elders den. Swamppaw’s training has been left to Lion’sMane.” He let out of mrrrow of laughter. “Swamppaw’s following him around like a love struck kitten. Poor cat has to put up with a dreamy eyed aprentice.”

Foxpaw snorted unsympatheticly.

“Guess who Lion’sMane’s got eyes for?”

Foxpaw scowled. “I don’t care as long as it’s not me.”

“Stormcloud.”

Foxpaw leaped to her paws at the mention of her friend’s name.

“Well,” she said trying to stay calm, “I’m sure she’s got no interest in him.”

“Oh I wouldn’t be too sure about that. He’s a decent looking cat.”

“But that can’t be!” She wailed. “Stormcloud knows how awful he is, how I dislike him.”

“I could distract her from him. She’s not so bad looking herself.”

He bent down and gave his chest a few licks then looked up grinning.

“You’d better not!” She dropped into a crouch and lashed her tail.

He laughed. “Na. There’s another cat I’d rather spend my time with.” He looked at her with undisguised tenderness.

“Oh. I forgot to tell you.” Foxpaw mewled. “I’m becoming a warrior this evening.”

“Congratulations. I’m due to go one patrol. See you.” He turned to go but Foxpaw called after him.

“Where did you go with Thistlestar this morning?”

Thunderwing was nearly overwhelmed with the desire to share with Foxpaw what they had learned. He caught himself. Thistlestar would announce it to the clan when he was ready.

“Just out hunting.” He walked slowly away, weaving among the Ledgepack cats.

“Let all cats old enough to groom their own fur gather beneath the HighRock for a clan meeting.”

At evening the call wrung out and the cats made their way to the huge rock at one side of the clearing.

Thistlestar raise his head and boldly began. “Foxpaw you have trained hard for this moment. You have become clever and fast. Foxpaw, your warrior name shall be, Foxwit.”

“Foxwit!” “Foxwit!” chanted the clan and soon Ledgepack joined in.

Thunderwing bounded over to Foxwit. They raced from the camp, their pelts brushing. Sunset watched them leave. She sadly wished that her own affection towards Hill could be so open and easy. She looked around for the ginger tom. She felt a surge of warmth at the sight of him. She knew that she should stop herself from becoming too close to Hill but she pushed thoughts of that kind away. Hill came to greet her and they went off to eat.

Foxwit looked around the camp for Stormcloud. She spotted the black and white she cat speaking to the queen Snowstorm. Deerleg, the father of Snowstorm’s kits, came over to Stormcloud and sat down. The three cats were watching the two kits, Clearkit and Rainkit, tumble about. Foxwit made her way over to Stormcloud. She leaned over to speak but before a word escaped her mouth Lion’sMane trotted up.

The tom flick his ears, signaling he wanted Stormcloud to follow him, and the two walked off. A little disappointed Foxwit sat down. She had been wanting to speak to Stormcloud about what Thunderwing had said earlier consorning Lion’sMane. Stormcloud’s behavior simply worried her more.

Foxwit turned to Snowstorm and Deerleg. “Your kits look healthy.”

Snowstorm turned to look at her with a said expression on her face. “Didn’t you hear? After your naming, when you were hunting with Thunderwing, Snowfur examined them. It seems they’re both completely blind. Thistlestar seems to think they can still be trained, though he’s not sure they’ll ever become warriors.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Foxwit murmured.

“Don’t be sorry. They’ll one day be strong warriors.” Hissed Deerleg, rather more sharply than he intended. He glanced at Rainkit, a brown tabby like himself. The kit batted playfully at her sister, a white she-cat like her mother.

He stalked away and the other two queens, Moondust and Poppypelt, looked up from discussing their kits that were yet to be born.

“I heard once,” began Poppypelt quietly, “of a blind cat that became a warrior. Besides I’d be more worried about Spottedpaw and Goldpaw becoming warriors, than those two. Leave it to a stubborn cat like Acornhead to have kits like them.”

The she-cats let out a couple mrrows of laughter. Foxwit stood and padded over to the bush where the warriors slept. She ducked inside. Foxwit made her way over to the nest where Stormcloud slept. She scraped together a moss nest next to the black and white cat’s nest and went to sleep.

Thistlestar stood at the edge of the slope that led down to FourTrees. Beside him stood the Ledgepack leader, Night. Side by side the leaders lead their cats forward. Thistlestar leaped onto the Great Rock where the other leaders waited. Again Broadstar was absent, his stop occupied by Mossbird.

Ravenstar stepped forward. “Perhaps you’d like to go first, Thistlefoot.”

Thistlestar nodded and stepped up to face the clans.

“Cats of all clans, I bring grave news. One moon ago Moonstar went to visit Broadstar about Mossbird’s request.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mossbird hurriedly speaking to Night in a whisper. “Broadstar spoke to Moonstar and told her everything. Mossbird is currently in control of Riverclan. She has trapped Broadstar in his own den with her three followers. She spoke of danger, but the danger she spoke of is Riverclan. Mossbird is planning to attack us if we do not join Riverclan and except her leadership. Mossbird was a fraid. She sent Moonstar back a different way, making up a story of rouges near the Stepping Stones as an excuse. She knew there were adders the way she sent Moonstar. Our leader was biten and killed. I have taken the name Thistlestar.” He stopped and drew back. The Shadowclan and Windclan gazed intently at Mossbird. The Riverclan cat finished whispering and stepped forward.

“I do not deny it,” the brown tabby yowled. “As I have said, Riverclan will be strong. As one clan we will be more powerful than anything, even stronge than twolegs. I will lead the clan. In three days time Riverclan will meet you here. If you do not join us we will fight you and drive you out.”

Ravenstar stepped up. The wiry black Windclan leader’s head hunt as if he were ashamed. “Windclan will not fight, for or against Riverclan.”

Mossbird nodded, “so you will join us?”

“In three days, not a minute before.”

Mossbird seemed pleased. “Good. Wise decision Ravenheart.”

Thistlestar flinched at the obvious contempt Mossbird showed by calling the leader by his warrior name. For the first time he was worried. Riverclan still seemed to support Mossbird despite what she had done, promises of grandeur distracting them from her treachery and deceit. And now Windclan had yielded to Riverclan.

“Tell me Mossbird, how do you expect to fight three clans with one?”

Mossbird smiled. “Why Thistlestar! I had no idea there were that many clans in the forest. Lets see… one, two, three, four… five. Yes. Who is this cat Thistlestar? Would you like to explain.”

Thistlestar moved up slowly. “This is the Ledgepack ruler, Night. His pack is staying in my clan’s camp for a few days until they are ready to continue their search for new land.”

Tawnypelt scowled. “I believe it is my turn,” she snarled. “We have a new warrior. Hedgefur sits with us tonight. A litter of kits was born yesterday.” She dipped her head and stepped back.

Ravenstar opened his mouth to speak but Mossbird cut him off.

“Ravenheart, you are apart of my clan now, you are no leader, you have lost the right to speak.”

She hissed and tryed to chase him off the boulder.

Thistlestar thrust his muzzle in Mossbird’s face. “He said he would join you only at the end of three days. He is still a leader.”

Ravenstar nodded his thanks to Thistlestar and started to speak. “Two litters of kits have been born. WE have three new aprentices, Lakepaw, Thrushpaw, and Seapaw. Our medicine cat, Birdtail, has taken an aprentice, Brackenpaw.”

“Now that you’re all done jabbering like jays we can go home,” hissed Mossbird.

Riverclan ran from the hollow with their tails held high, as if they had already won the upcoming battle. Thistlestar summoned Foxtail and the two went to find Tawnystar. They found the she-cat crouching in conference with her deputy, Jaybeak. The blue-gray she-cat raised her head and touched her leaders shoulder with her tail. Tawnystar turned and greeted Thistlestar with a dip of her head.

“Greetings. You failed to mention Foxtail was the new deputy. Congratulations.”

“Will you fight beside Thunderclan?” Rumbled Thistlestar.

Tawnystar hesitated. “What else can we do? Submit to being treated like foolish aprentices. Ravenstar is weak. What leader would let himself be treated like that. When do you expect your guests to be leaving?”

“Not soon, I hope. Windclan’s cowardice sickens me. I suggest you strengthen your camp. I’ll see you on the battle field.”

Thistlestar leaped down from the Highrock. He had just told the clan what he had learned of Mossbird’s plot. He looked around the clearing. Aproaching him from Ledgepack’s makeshift camp was Night. The ruler looked confident and proud.

“Thistlestar! My pack is leaving.”

“Have you found a home? I was not aware.”

“We have been made an offer, by Mossbird.” As the black cat spoke Thistlestar felt alarm growing inside him. “Mossbird said that if we fight for her and except her leadership we can have our share of territory in her forest. I have accepted.”

Night leapt up to the Highrock and called his clan. “Ledgepack. We are leaving We shall live with Riverclan for three days, and then, when Mossbird is ruler, we shall return and this will be our home!”

Ledgepack’s cheers nearly drowned Thunderclan’s gasps of horror. Reluctantly the Ledgepack mothers left the nursery. As the throng of cats moved toward the entrance, Sunset found herself looking for one ginger pelt.

Night turned. “Hill. Lead the pack. Hill?”

Sunset felt fur brush against her pelt and breathed in Hill’s warm scent. “No,” called Hill. “I’m not going with you. I will not help that evil cat drive out these cats as we were driven out.”

Night lashed his tail angrily and stalked off at the head of his pack.

Hill padded over to Thistlestar. “I’d like to say here if you’ll let me. If not I’ll move on, but no matter what I am no longer a battler of Ledgepack.”

Thistlestar nodded and gentley said, “you may stay as a member of Thunderclan.”

Hill walked back over to Sunset. “I love you Sunset, more than I could ever have imagined possible. But that’s not why I stayed. I stayed because what my pack is doing is wrong.” Sunset felt bitter disappointment burn in her paws. “It would be selfish to leave our home because of love. We would be depriving our clan, or pack, of a strong warrior and a friend. “Sunset nodded knowing he was right. “But I still love you Sunset.”

She leaned against him, breathing in the warm scent of his fur.

Foxwit glanced at Hill and Sunset. It reminded her she still hadn’t spoken to Stormcloud about Lion’sMane. She spotted Stormcloud and bounded over.

“Stormcloud! Can I talk to you alone.”

“Sure Foxwit.”

The two she-cats sat down in the ferns at the edge of the camp.

Foxwit took a deep breath. “Stormcloud don’t. Stay away from Lion’sMane.”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stormcloud’s fur grew hot.

“Don’t try to hide it you’re clearly attracted to him. You can’t be. You know how much I dislike him.”

Stromcloud’s tail twitched angrily. “So what if I am? It’s none of your business. I happen to think Thunderwing is the most disagreeable cat I’ve ever met, that your affections are wasted on him, but I’ve never said anything because you’re my friend and I believe you truly have feelings for him. That’s between you and him,” hissed Stormcloud. She flattened her ears and stalked off.

Foxwit got up and went to search for Thunderwing. She spotted the black tom coming toward her. In her hurry she collided with the distinctive golden fur of Lion’sMane.

Foxwit bristled. “Watch it Kittypet,” she spat. Her fight with Stormcloud making her even more hostile than usual.

Lion’sMane snarled and bounded away. Foxwit felt Thunderwing come up behind her.

“Is your fight with Lion’sMane still going on? I thought it ended moons ago.”

“What’s wrong with that?” snapped, Foxwit, far more sharply than she intended.

Thunderwing flattened his ears as if she had struck him. “Its pointless. He made a mistake long ago and now everytime you see him you spit fire. Whenever you get near each other you act like kits. Face it Foxwit, it’s time to put old arguments aside.” He touched her gently with his tail. “Come hunting with me. The clan needs more fresh kill.”

The two cats strolled out of camp.

Two days until the fight, only two days. It was all Tigerstripe could think about. He aproached Thistlestar’s den, his gray and black tabby fur bristleing with the thought of what he was about to ask for.

“Thistlestar?” He called entering the den.

“Yes Tigerstripe?”

“I want to lead a patrol to chase off the badger at Snake Rocks. I’d like to take Thunderwing, Foxwit, Stormcloud, and Lion’sMane.”

“Some of our youngest warriors?” Thistlestar said questioningly.

“Also some of our strongest.”

“Very well. We must drive out the badger.”

Foxwit bounded from boulder to boulder up the ravine. At the top she stopped and gave her chest a quick nervous lick. Facing a badger was dangerous and she was glad she had two strong fighters like Thunderwing and Tigerstripe with her. As much as she hated to admit it, she was also glad to have the muscular Lion’sMane with her. With the three toms in front of her and Stormcloud by her side, she proceeded onward to Snake rocks.

As they approached Snake Rocks Foxwit’s fur began to bristle. The stench of badgers was now strong. She sat down to wait. It was early, just past dawn, so the badgers should have been returning from their night scavenging soon. They didn’t have to wait very long. Out of the bushes a young badger blundered. It stumbled into Foxwit. His eyes grew wide with fear. The young badger was now big enough to cause problems for a single grown cat. The mother followed her cub, snarling vicously.

With a yowl Tigerstripe threw himself at the cub. Foxwit slashed out at the mother her claws got thick black fur but nothing else. The badger leapt on Foxwit, pinning her to the ground. The mother raised her paw, ready to slash at her throat, a blow that would have surely killed a cat. Suddenly the badger was jerked backwards by a cat. Foxwit opened her mouth to thank Thunderwing, but it was Lion’sMane, not Thunderwing who stood there. She shut her jaws abruptly and leapt once again at the badger. She raked her claws along it’s side. Blood seeped from the wound. The badger roared angrily and shook her massive striped head. The badger turned and ran. Foxwit stared in horror.

“Its heading for the camp,” yowled Stormcloud.

Foxwit chased after it with the others pounding along behind her. As she neared the ravine she slowed down. The badger was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly a roar told her the badger was behind her. Foxwit whirled around with her back arched. The badger lunged forward, knocking the ginger she-cat backwards. Foxwit tumbled off the edge of the ravine, only managing to hang on with her front paws. Her hind legs dangled high above the ground. She flexed her claws trying to find grip, but her claws only scraped hard stone. The badger wheeled around to face the remaining members of the patrol.

“Thunderwing! Help me, I’m going to fall!”

The black tom leapt over the badger. The huge creature spun and lashed out at Thunderwing with a powerful forepaw. His face contorted into a screech of pain as the badger’s claws raked his shoulder. The badger turned back to the others. Thunderwing leaned over and grabbed the scruff of Foxwit’s neck in his teeth. He pulled backward, but with no result. Suddenly Foxwit felt another set of jaws grab her from the other side and together Thunderwing and Lion’sMane pulled her back onto solid ground. Foxwit briefly leaned on Thunderwing before leaping back at the badger. The big creature let out a last roar of defiance and lumbered off, herding its cub in front of it. The cats stood shoulder to shoulder, yowling in triumph.

Inside the camp Lion’sMane ran up to Foxwit. “Foxwit I need to speak to you.”

She laid back her ears but spoke without the usual venem. “What is it? I’m supposed to be on the dawn patrol, I need to get some sleep.”

“I think we should put old arguments aside and stop fighting.” Before she could reply he turned and bounded over to Stormcloud who was waiting for him by the fresh kill pile.

Sunset watched as Pinecloud and Onestripe led Spottedpaw and Goldpaw out of the camp for training. The usually frisky aprentices looked somber, burdened with the thought of the battle the next day. The whole clan was tense, as if Mossbird was right in front of them, ready to spring at them with claws outstretched. Sunset sighed and looked around for Hill. The big tom had seemed distraught since Ledgepack had left. Hill spent most of his time talking to the senior warriors, learning about the clans and the territory. Most of the senior warriors, Rosesky, Tigerstripe and Foxtail, were to busy to teach the battler, but Skypelt and Badgerleg realized that he needed to know these things if he was to be part of the clan. Sunset spotted Hill speaking to Badgerleg in a clump of ferns. On her way over to them she decided to stop by the medicine cat’s den. She peered into the dark den. Sunset was shocked to see no Snowfur but Thunderwing. The black cat was crouched beside Rabbitpaw speaking to her in a soft voice.

“Are you hurt Thunderwing?”

The black tom looked up at the sound of Sunset’s soft voice. “No, I… I was just helping Rabbitpaw with a mixture for tomorrow. Snowfur is gathering herbs so I thought I’d lend a paw.” He looked wistfully at the rows of herbs.

“You miss it sometimes don’t you?” Sunset murmured.

Thunderwing nodded. “Every now and then, but I’m a warrior now.”

“Thunderwing, I can’t remember what we use for infection,” Rabbitpaw called.

Sunset smiled and backed out of the den. She padded over to Hill as Badgerleg walked. Hill sprang to his paws.

“Sunset! Did you want to go hunting? I’d like to show you one of our hunting techniques.”

“Sure,” she purred.

They padded into the forest. Nothing about the quiet woods betrayed the threatof horrible danger the cats were preparing to face the next day. Sunset tasted the air for the scent of prey and picked up the scent of mousse. Here a cat could nearly forget about Mossbird’s treachery. Sunset sighed and brought her mind back to the hunt.

“Let all cats old enough to groom their own fur gather beneath the HighRock for a clan meeting!” The call echoed throughout the clearing.

Thistlestar began to speak. “Some warriors will need to stay at camp during today’s battle. All queens and elders will stay in camp with the kits. “

Snowstorm, Poppypelt, Moondust, Rawtooth and Dustthroat nodded.

“I also believe one warrior and one apprentice should stay behind. Starpaw you and Hill shall stay.”

“Thistlestar,” Hill raised his voice. “I would like to fight in the battle, to prove that my allegainances no longer lie in Ledgepack.”

“Very well.” He paused, looking for a cat to take Hill’s place. He noticed Deerleg looking up, hopeful for the chance to stay and protect his mate and kits. “Deerleg you will stay with Starpaw. The rest of you eat quickly and be ready to leave by dawn. Aprentices you will help Snowfur and Rabbitpaw carry their supplies to FourTrees.”

Thistlestar leaped down from the Highrock, dismissing the clan. He grabbed a thrush and began eating outside his den. Goldrain approached with his apprentice Quickpaw trailing behind him.

Goldenrain’s green eyes were troubled. He looked as if he wanted to say something but it was Quickpaw who spoke first. “Thistlestar, I… the clan is frightened. What will happen if we lose the battle?”

“We will be forced to join Riverclan or leave the forest.” Thistlestar mewed gravely.

“Which will we do?” The young dark brown tabby tom asked hesitantly.

Grief clouded Thistlestar’s eyes as he toward the small cat. Quickpaw was dwarfed by the huge leader’s powerful frame but now in the aprentice’s fear and uncertainty he looked even smaller. “We will not have to make that choice. We will win. We must win.”

Dawn was approaching when Thistlestar caught a flash of bright ginger-oragne fur and a cat staggered into camp. Firefur, the Windclan deputy stood in the center of the clearing, gasping for breath.

He raised his head to look at the Thunderclan leader. “Thistlestar, you must win the battle. Windclan is treated awfully. We have neither their respect nor their affection. All of us, even Ravenstar and myself are treated as less than aprentices. I am the only one who dares to defy Mossbird. If Ravenstar will not protect Windclan, I will. I plead for the chance to fight for my clan’s freedom. I want to go to battle with you, Thunderclan.”

Thistlestar

#warrior cats #warrior cats fanfiction #my writing #I'm so ashamed of 12 year old me's spelling #i mean to vs too? really

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