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dee-writes-anime · 3 months ago

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I'm Here, I'm Always Here

FEATURING Shoto Todoroki x Reader

SUMMARY Shoto can't take it anymore, good thing you are always willing to take good care of your icyhot sweetheart.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, Shoto being taken care of like he deserves, an excuse for me to wash my boys hair T-T, hurt/comfort, Shoto needs a hug PLEASE HUG HIM OML

AUTHORS NOTE this is not the BakuDeku slow burn that I've been working on the past week, unfortunately. I promise I am still working on it, it's just a BEAST of a fic and I am still not done writing it. So, instead of continuing in my silence, I decided to share this Shoto fic I've been sitting on for a FAT minute. <3

“You��ve worked so hard, love,” you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his wet forehead. “So, so hard.”

Shoto Todoroki is sitting on the floor of your shower, curled into himself, trembling violently. His knees are drawn tight against his chest, and his head is buried deep between his crossed arms, tucked into the wet skin of his legs. The water pounds mercilessly on his back, scalding hot, the sound of it a steady hiss against the tile as steam swirls like smoke in the air. It clings to the room in suffocating waves, thick enough to feel like it’s pressing down on him, drowning him with every strained breath. The water pelts his cold skin, too hot and too harsh, but he doesn’t move. He just rocks slowly, back and forth, shaking with each shallow inhale.

You hadn't been home, hadn’t heard the news. You were a world away, caught in the aftermath of a grueling mission in Indonesia, helping local heroes dismantle a quirk-empowered sex trafficking ring. You hadn’t known what had gone down between Shoto and the villain he fought today. You hadn’t known he’d be fighting for his life while you were halfway across the world, in a place that had felt so beautiful, so serene in comparison to what he must have gone through.

While you’d been basking in the warm Indonesian sun, calling him every night to talk, laugh, share silly stories, Shoto had been here, battling something far darker than either of you could have anticipated. You would stay on the phone with him for hours, sometimes dozing off mid-conversation, your voices filling the quiet voids of each other’s days. But today, today you hadn’t been able to answer.

You’d been on a plane, finally heading home after days of tension and exhaustion. The mission was done; you had succeeded in catching the ring leaders, and the police were making their arrests. But it wasn’t over for Shoto.

He had stayed at your apartment while you were gone, taking care of Mr. Wellbottom, your moody, gray tabby. Shoto had taken the task without hesitation, even though you’d thanked him a thousand times, feeling guilty for asking him to go out of his way. But Shoto had only smiled, brushing off your offers of repayment, telling you it was no trouble at all. The truth, however, was that Shoto preferred it here. Your apartment, small and cluttered as it was, was warm—unlike the empty coldness of his own space. Here, everything smelled like you—soft, comforting, familiar. He’d found himself sinking into the warmth of it, into the messy piles of books, your worn-out blankets, and even the prickly affection of Mr. Wellbottom.

Because here, in your space, Shoto could pretend, just for a little while, that he was more than just your close friend. More than just the boy who kept you company and helped take care of your cat. Here, he could pretend he belonged.

But today, the weight of everything had become too much, and all the warmth of your apartment, of your affection, couldn’t hold back the storm brewing inside him. He loved you more than anything in the world, more than he could ever say, which was why he had resigned himself to being just this—just your closest friend. Because losing you, risking what you had by asking for more, was something he couldn’t bear. So, he stayed quiet, enduring, grateful for whatever piece of you he could keep.

The villain Shoto had fought today was unlike any other—someone who could take the deepest, darkest corners of a person's mind and twist them until reality blurred into something grotesque. He wasn’t a stranger to this villain, not after the many run-ins he’d had in his relentless hunt to stop him. Shoto had endured before, forced to relive the bitter memories of his father, the abuse, the cruelty that had shaped so much of his childhood. And then, as if that weren’t enough, the villain had dredged up the image of his brother—his death, and later, the painful fight against him. But even those memories, awful as they were, Shoto had withstood.

Today, however, had been different.

This time, the villain had reached deeper, pulling on a thread of Shoto’s mind that was too precious to tamper with. He had taken you. The memory of your warmth, your laughter, your soft presence that had become Shoto’s solace—and twisted it into something horrific.

In the vision the villain conjured, Shoto found himself standing in your small, familiar kitchen. The tiled floor beneath him, a dull, faded yellowish hue, felt so real. Too real. And there, lying crumpled on the ground, was you. Blood—thick and horrifyingly red—leaked from a deep gash in your abdomen, pooling on the floor and staining the tiles beneath you. Shoto's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he dropped to his knees beside you. His hands, shaking uncontrollably, grabbed the first thing he could find—the knit blanket you always draped across the back of the couch. The same one he had used just days before to coax Mr. Wellbottom into curling up with him for a late-night picture.

But now, that blanket was being pressed against your wound, its soft cream fabric soaking through with the vivid, sickening color of your blood. The warmth that had once been your safety net, the thing that reminded him of you every time he wrapped it around himself, was now drenched in the memory of your loss.

The image wouldn’t leave him.

No matter how much he blinked, no matter how hard he tried to force himself back into reality, the memory the villain had warped stuck in his mind like a jagged shard of glass. He could still see your lifeless form, still feel the weight of the blood-soaked blanket in his trembling hands. It was too vivid. Too visceral.

The villain knew exactly what he was doing, attacking Shoto’s weakest point. He had toyed with Shoto's mind, playing his memories like a puppet on strings, twisting them until every bit of hope, every ounce of warmth, turned to something grotesque. You were Shoto’s anchor, the light in the darkness of his life, and to turn that into something filled with blood and pain—that had broken him in ways nothing else ever had.

When Shoto had finally snapped out of it, it had been too late. The villain was gone, disappeared into the chaos, and Shoto was left kneeling on the ground in the middle of the battlefield, still shaking from the aftershocks of the warped vision. His teammates had tried to help him, tried to call out to him, but he couldn’t hear anything but the sound of your blood dripping onto the cold kitchen floor. He could feel his own heart hammering against his ribs, threatening to tear itself apart from the inside.

And now here he was, in your shower, trying and failing to wash the memory away. He had come back to your apartment because it was the only place that felt remotely safe, remotely real. But even here, surrounded by the things that usually comforted him, he couldn’t escape it. The scalding water beat down on his back, punishing him, as if he could burn the image out of his mind. But nothing helped. Nothing could erase the sight of your body, limp in his arms, as the life drained out of you in that twisted vision.

When he heard your soft voice, it was as though the world tilted back into focus for the first time since the nightmare began. It started with a gentle gasp, a sound so quiet he might’ve missed it if he weren’t so desperate to hear something real. Then came the hurried footsteps, the soft padding of your feet against the floor growing louder as you rushed toward the bathroom. The water stopped abruptly, the harsh, scalding heat suddenly replaced by the cool air around him, and then—your hands. Your hands, warm and steady, were threading through his soaked hair, each stroke slow and deliberate, as though grounding him back into the present.

But Shoto flinched at the contact, his breath catching in his throat. Was this real? Could this be another cruel trick, another illusion the villain had planted to break him further? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure—not after what he had seen.

And then he smelled it.

Vanilla and cashmere, the scent you always wore, the one Mina endlessly teased you about. That familiar, comforting fragrance filled his senses, and something deep inside him cracked open. It was you. The scar on your palm, the one from that quirk accident back in high school, scraped lightly against his skin as your fingers combed through his hair, the faintest of rough edges that confirmed it. No illusion could replicate the way your presence felt—how solid, how real it was.

It was you.

The dam inside him broke, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore from his throat, raw and desperate. His body moved before his mind could catch up, clinging to you, burying his face against your chest as the sobs came faster, his body wracked with tremors he could no longer suppress. Water soaked through your sweater, dampening your leggings, but you didn’t care. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer as you whispered soft, soothing words into his ear.

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice steady, grounding him. “You’re safe, Shoto. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He could feel your heartbeat against his cheek, strong and steady, each thud an anchor that pulled him out of the nightmare and into the present. You were real. You were here, holding him close, and for the first time since the mission, the suffocating weight in his chest loosened, just a fraction, as your warmth began to chase the cold from his bones.

After what felt like minutes—or maybe hours; he couldn’t tell—of you simply holding him, your warmth wrapped around him like a lifeline, you shifted. Slowly, you stood, your movements careful and deliberate, as if afraid to pull away too fast. You reached for the shower knob, turning the water back on, this time to a much gentler temperature. The scalding heat from before was replaced by a soothing warmth that cascaded down his back, easing the tension in his muscles.

Without saying a word, you grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the cubby—a fancy brand you always scolded him for trying to use when he stayed over. He could almost hear your playful voice in his head, telling him he wasn’t allowed to touch the ‘good stuff.’ But now, you weren’t teasing. You were quiet, focused, as you squeezed a generous amount into your palm and began to gently massage it into his scalp.

Your fingers moved with care, threading through his hair in slow, circular motions. Each touch was gentle, deliberate, as if you were trying to wash away more than just the dirt and grime of the day. Shoto closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the sensation, the rhythmic motion of your hands calming the storm inside him. The scent of the shampoo—familiar and soft, just like everything else about you—filled the air, wrapping him in its comforting embrace.

You worked the shampoo into every strand, massaging his scalp until his hair was thoroughly coated in suds. Each pass of your fingers through his mismatched hair felt like a promise—unspoken, but deeply felt. You weren’t going anywhere. You were still here, taking care of him in the only way you knew how.

And for the first time that night, as you stood there with him, washing away the pain of the day, Shoto felt like he might be able to breathe again.

After finishing with the shampoo, your hands moved with the same careful tenderness, reaching for the conditioner. You uncapped the bottle, the familiar scent wafting into the air, and squeezed a dollop into your palm. The water flowed in a soft cascade over Shoto’s back, creating a calm, steady rhythm in the background as you worked the conditioner through his hair.

Your fingers glided through the wet strands, smoothing them gently. As you massaged the conditioner into his scalp, your voice broke the quiet.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time,” you began, your voice low and soft. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Shoto.”

The words hung in the air, blending with the sound of water pattering against the tile. Shoto didn’t react at first, still processing everything. But you didn’t stop, your fingers working through his hair with care as you continued.

“I don’t know when it started, really. I think it was sometime in high school, maybe even before that. You were always so strong, so quiet, but… you carried so much. I remember that day during our first year, when you told us about your father. About your family. You tried so hard to stay strong, to push everything down like it didn’t matter. But I saw how much it hurt you.”

You paused for a moment, lost in the memory. You could still see it so clearly—the way Shoto had stood there, stoic and composed, while the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. But behind those mismatched eyes, you had seen something else: the vulnerability he never let anyone else see. It had been in that moment you realized just how much you cared about him.

“And then… we got closer. We became friends,” you said, working the conditioner into his hair with slow, careful motions. “I would stay up late thinking about how brave you were. How strong. You didn’t let the things that had happened to you define who you were, and that’s what made me fall in love with you even more.”

Shoto remained quiet, but you could feel the way his breathing had changed—slower now, steadier. You didn’t know if he was processing your words or just lost in the comfort of the moment, but it didn’t matter. You needed to say this, even if he didn’t respond.

“And when we graduated and became pro heroes, I thought I’d let those feelings go. I thought maybe they’d fade with time. But they didn’t. Every time I saw you fight, saw you push yourself to your limits, I’d fall a little harder. You’re so strong, Shoto. You’re so brave. Even when the world tries to break you down, you keep going.”

You paused, your fingers stilling for a moment in his hair as you thought back to all the times you’d watched him from a distance, your heart swelling with pride and admiration.

“Like today,” you continued, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what happened out there, and you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. But I know how strong you are. I know how hard you fight, even when things get bad. You’re the bravest person I know, Shoto.”

Your hands moved again, gently untangling the strands of his hair as you rinsed out the conditioner. The water ran over his head, carrying the suds away, and you stood there in silence for a few moments longer, letting the weight of your words settle between you.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you leaned in close to him, your lips brushing against his damp hair.

“You’ve worked so hard, love,” you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his wet forehead. “So, so hard.”

The word slipped out—love—and it felt so natural, so right, that you didn’t even hesitate. You weren’t sure if he heard it, but you didn’t care. You meant every word. Shoto had been fighting for so long, and all you wanted was for him to know how much he meant to you. How proud you were of him.

You stood there for a while, the water continuing to run as you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing the tension that had gripped him for so long.

As you rinsed the conditioner from his hair, the soft hiss of water filling the room, Shoto shifted slightly beneath your hands. His head tilted back just a fraction, and for the first time since you had come home, he spoke.

His voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and hesitant, as if he were afraid the words might break the delicate moment between you. “I… I didn’t know how to tell you,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “For so long, I’ve felt… something. I didn’t understand it at first. But every time I was with you, it was there—this warmth I couldn’t explain.”

You kept your hands gentle, running your fingers through his hair as the water rinsed away the last traces of conditioner. The soothing rhythm of the water was a backdrop to his quiet confession.

“I never thought I deserved you,” Shoto admitted, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “You’re always so bright, so warm. You make everything around you feel… alive. And me—I’ve always felt like I’m stuck in this cold, this distance from everyone, like I don’t belong in your world.”

His eyes closed, the weight of his words seeming to spill out of him now that he had started. “But every time I was with you, it felt like I could finally breathe. Like maybe… maybe I wasn’t so broken after all.”

Your fingers continued to move through his hair, slow and deliberate, each touch a silent reassurance that you were listening, that you were there.

Shoto’s breath hitched as he leaned into your touch, letting the water stream down his face as he spoke again, more vulnerable than you had ever heard him. “I didn’t know how to tell you how much I love you. I didn’t want to risk losing you, so I stayed quiet. I thought if I could just be close to you, that would be enough. But… it never was. I wanted more. I wanted you, and it scared me.”

His voice faltered for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between you like the mist in the air. “I love you,” he finally whispered, barely audible over the sound of the water. “I’ve loved you for so long. I just… I didn’t know how to say it.”

The last of the conditioner was gone now, his hair clean and smooth beneath your fingers, but you didn’t pull away. You stayed there, the water running over both of you as you cradled his head in your hands, your heart swelling with every word he spoke.

Shoto was vulnerable in a way you had never seen before—laid bare, fragile, but so open, so raw. And it was in that moment that you realized just how much this meant to him, how much he had been holding back for all these years.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You don’t have to be scared anymore, Shoto. I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

You gently tilted Shoto’s head up, brushing your thumb along his jaw as the water cascaded between you, soft and warm. His eyes fluttered open, the weight of his emotions still lingering in those mismatched irises—one like molten lava, the other like glacial ice. But now, there was something different. Something softer. Something vulnerable.

Your heart swelled as you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss so soft, so tender, it felt like you were sealing all the unspoken words and emotions between you. The kiss was slow, delicate—a moment where everything else faded away. It was just you and Shoto, standing there under the warmth of the water, sharing something you had both waited so long for.

He kissed you back with a gentle urgency, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His hand came up to cup the side of your face, the water from his fingers dripping down your cheek as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly, but still kept it tender, as though he were afraid of breaking the fragile moment between you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Your foreheads rested together, the water still trickling over you, but the world had gone quiet, a peaceful silence wrapping around you both.

You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of wet hair away from his forehead. “We should get out of here before we both turn into prunes,” you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice, though your eyes remained full of warmth.

Shoto blinked, as if snapping out of a dream, and then nodded, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “Yeah… that might be a good idea,” he said, his voice still hushed, the weight of everything that had passed between you lingering in the air.

You stood up first, offering him your hand to help him rise from the floor of the shower. He took it, the touch of his fingers against yours sending a soft warmth through your chest. Together, you stepped out of the shower, the cool air of the bathroom a sharp contrast to the warmth you shared inside.

Grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around Shoto’s shoulders first, gently rubbing his hair dry before handing him another one. He looked at you with an expression so tender, so grateful, that it made your heart ache in the best way. You both changed into dry clothes, the atmosphere between you calm, comfortable—like the two of you had reached a new kind of understanding.

When you finished, you sat on the edge of your bed, Shoto quietly sitting next to you. The room was dim, the soft hum of the apartment’s heater the only sound between you. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes still held traces of exhaustion, but also something lighter—a quiet relief.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh. “You’ve worked so hard, Shoto,” you whispered, echoing the words you had said before, but now they felt even more meaningful. “You don’t always have to carry everything on your own. I’m here.”

He turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured, his voice steady and soft. “I know now.”

And for the first time in a long time, Shoto felt a sense of peace settle over him. The weight of the day, the nightmares, the fear—all of it faded into the background as the two of you sat there, sharing the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was simple, and that was more than enough for both of you.

BONUS:

As the two of you sat in the peaceful quiet, your head still resting on Shoto’s shoulder, you felt the softest brush of fur against your leg. Before you could react, a familiar weight jumped onto the bed between you. Mr. Wellbottom, your grumpy but loyal cat, had decided to make his presence known.

The fluffy feline nudged his head against your arm, purring loudly as if to scold you for being away for so long. He then climbed into your lap, curling up into a cozy ball as he pressed himself into your warmth, his tail flicking slightly before settling down.

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand instinctively going to stroke his soft fur. “I missed you too, Wellbottom,” you said softly, scratching behind his ear the way you knew he liked.

Shoto looked down at the cat, a fond look in his eyes as he watched the little scene unfold. He reached out cautiously, his hand brushing against Mr. Wellbottom’s back, and to both of your surprise, the cat didn’t protest. Instead, he let out a soft purr, accepting the gentle touch.

“Looks like someone’s been waiting for you,” Shoto murmured, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed quietly, the sound soft and warm as it filled the room. “He missed his cuddle buddy. But you took good care of him while I was gone, didn’t you?”

Shoto gave a small nod, his eyes still on Mr. Wellbottom as the cat shifted to press even closer to you, as if making up for lost time. “Yeah, but… I think he was waiting for you. We both were.”

Your heart melted at those words, and you leaned into Shoto a little more, your fingers absentmindedly petting the content cat in your lap. The three of you sat there, surrounded by a calm that was as comforting as it was rare.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was still. There were no battles to fight, no villains to defeat, no painful memories clawing their way to the surface—just the soft purring of Mr. Wellbottom and the quiet warmth of Shoto at your side.

“I’m here now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nestled into Shoto’s side. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #mha shoto #shoto torodoki #todoroki #todoroki family #toya todoroki #mha anime #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #kohei horikoshi #bnha

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hayheadd · 10 months ago

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UPDATED clangen pathologic warrior cats... directed at no one in particular. made in dollmaker called clangen catmaker

Anna, Aspity and Var

Grief, Rubin and Lara

Eva, Yulia and Maria

Aglaya, Block and Simon

Murky, Sticky and Taya

Georgiy, Victor and SImon

Grace (with dirty paws), Khan and Notkin

Saburov, Saburova, Oyun

Andrey and Peter Stamatin

Capella, Vlad jr and Big Vlad are in the first one I'm only allowed 30 images.... anyway.... as a fun little bonus

Medicine cats

Snakeheart (Daniil Dankovsky)

Small tortoiseshell tom with white paws, a red spot on his chest and amber eyes

Bullheart (Artemy Burakh)

Massive fuzzy golden tabby tom with blue eyes

Ratheart / Miracleheart (Clara)

Lanky dilute calico thing with bright yellow eyes

Miracleheart is the name she chose for herself, but everyone calls her Ratheart to mock her instead

Termiteclan

Stickpaw (Sticky)

Lanky golden tom with green eyes

Murkkit (Murky)

Small lykoi she-cat with blue eyes

Knotpaw (Notkin)

Gray tom with brown spots on his nose and ears, a dog collar around his neck and yellow eyes (Resembles Jester)

Soul-and-a-halves are basically the cat distribution system. They find humans for themselves

Sparkpaw (sight) (Capella)

Tall ginger she-cat with blue sparkly eyes

Her mom Daystar (Viktoria Olgimskaya)

Elegant long-furred white she-cat with sparkly yellow eyes

Gracepaw (Grace)

Long-furred white she-cat with tired blue eyes and stuff stuck in her fur

Antkit (Taya Tycheek)

Brown and dark ginger tortoiseshell she-cat with bright yellow eyes

Dogpaw (Khan Kain)

Round small dark gray tabby tom with bright blue eyes

Spireclan

Whispersong (Eva Yan)

Elegant round light yellow she-cat with blue eyes

Newteye (Peter Stamatin)

Cream tom with green eyes

Newtclaw (Andrey Stamatin)

Cream tom with green eyes

Scarletsight (Maria Kaina)

Blueish black she-cat with amber eyes

Her mom Nightstar (Nina Kaina)

Elegant tall long-furred black she-cat with amber eyes

Highstep / Smallspider (Vlad Jr)

Tall dusty gray tom with yellow eyes

Shadowflower (Victor Kain)

Round gray tabby tom with blue eyes

Mistchaser (Georgiy Kain)

Old long-furred silver tom with yellow eyes

Humbleclan

Rockfang (Stakh Rubin) (Rubyfang)

Parcially bald black tom-cat with yellow eyes and fur on his chest, paws and tail

Riverpebble (Lara Ravel) (Gravelpebble)

Long-furred dark gray with black spots, a fuzzy tail and blue eyes

Sleektalon (Bad Grief) (Owl/Filin)

Small ginger tabby tom with green eyes

Robinsong (Anna Angel)

Dark ginger she-cat with yellow eyes

Molesight (Katerina Saburova)

Dusty silver and black she-cat spots with bluish gray eyes

Dustwatcher (Alexander Saburov)

Light brownish-gray tom with greenish gray eyes

Applebird (Yulia Lyuricheva)

Tall golden tabby she-cat with green eyes

Bullface (Foreman Oyun)

Massive brown tabby tom who wears a bull skull and has light blue eyes

Wormleg (Aspity)

Lanky dark brown thing with gray eyes

Other

Thornlily (Aglaya Lilich)

Tall blue she-cat with light green eyes

Ashenstep (Alexander Block)

Dark ginger tom with bright blue eyes and gray paws

Crookedcrouch (Var)

Dark brown crooked tom with one yellow eye and one blind blue eye with a scar over it

Willowblossom (Willow Mellow)

Dark brown she-cat with green eyes

Willowdancer (Nara)

Tall dark blue she-cat with purple eyes

Bigbull (Big Vlad) (I KNOW it's a dumb name but what else is there for Big Vlad.)

Fat ass ginger cat with blue eyes

Mudheart (Isidor Burakh)

Light brown tom with blue eyes

Skystar/Skychaser (Simon Kain)

Old long-furred white tom with blue eyes

The theatre??? I don't know the??? Silentden the??? Whisperden?

Foulplay (Mark Immortell)

Gray spotted tom with green and blue eyes

Ratcather (RATCATCHER)

Black and white (mostly black) she-cat with blue eyes

Birdfaces (Executors)

Face covered with a raven skull, cloak made of red feathers, flowers and leaves with raven bones sticking out. Usually shown sitting down in the performances, so only the front paws are barely visible beneath the cloak

and Silentfaces (Tragedians)

I don't know where they got the masks

Fellow traveller

Dark brown tom with green eyes

Crimsondove (Aysa Klyonina)

Dark ginger she-cat with a big nose and amber eyes

Viperpool (Farkhad)

Black curly-furred tom with amber eyes

general info/context:

They were the same clan but fell apart (Steppeclan)

Spireclan, Termiteclan And Humbleclan

All medicine cats named -heart

Queens are replacement for in-game mistresses, they're not nursing mothers. They're instead like mothers of the whole clan. There are also queen apprentices that can only be of queen blood. They get -sight names until they become full queens (leaders) and get -star.

Moonspire - Polyhedron (the kits call it the playden), Bullplace - Abattoir, Hollowpool - Cathedral

Polyhedron is made of ice that doesn't melt, Abattoir is made of that kinda ancient brown dusty ice that has diseases in it, Cathedral is a bunch of tall sticks and a puddle (melted ice) (fail)

Herb mates are also another cat class only special kin cats can be apprenticed to. They have -dancer names.

The powers that be are Starclan. Aka the giant kids. No idea how that explains them being like a literal government. Maybe everyone is super religious. I mean maybe god is real. Warrior cats

Daniil was a kittypet that lived in a veterinarian clinic

Rubin was unofficially apprenticed by Isidor, never got the -heart name.

The guardian cats are also in this au. A clan full of medicine cats. This is the place where Daniil lived and Artemy studied, but they didn’t know each other (Capital basically)

The Stamatins are former kittypets and den builders that used to live with the guardian cats.

The army is also another faraway clan that is full of warriors that fight by the orders of Starclan whether they like it or not

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rippleclan · 2 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 65

Clammask gives birth to three healthy mollies not long after Halibutdusk gets greencough. Worried, Clammask decides to name them early.

[Image ID: With Halibutdusk in the background sporting + CONDITION: GREENCOUGH under them, Clammask faces three newborn kits; one red tabby, one white tabby, one black tabby. Under the red tabby, it says NEW PLAYER: POTTERYKIT, 0, FEMALE, SELF-CONSCIOUS. The white kit says NEW PLAYER: MOONKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET. Lastly, the black kit says NEW PLAYER: VERVAINKIT, 0, FEMALE, FEARLESS. Under Clammask, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH.]

Somehow, giving birth to three kits was more exhausting than five. Perhaps it was all the stress of recent moons; Scrubmask’s death, three of Clammask’s four kits coming down with food poisoning, casually seeing Halibutdusk only to become pregnant… that was a lot for one molly to handle! Add in the fact that the moon did not shine over the Clans on the first day of autumn’s third moon when Clammask felt a familiar pain in her gut, and Halibutdusk was stuck in the quarantine den with a loud case of greencough, how could she not be stressed?

This kitting was shorter, thank StarClan. It was still nightfall when Clammask cleaned off her last little kit and helped her snuggle up to her belly. Oilstripe, Tallowkit, and Slushkit had vacated the nursery for a while to give Clammask room to kit, but Lemmy, her belly fat against her thin frame, still slept inside, dreams undisturbed by the new life born to the Clan. The only other cat in the nursery was Troutpool (Clammask simply couldn’t ask her own son to help deliver her kits, it felt so strange!).

The head cleric carefully examined the three mollies at Clammask’s side while the golden molly caught her breath. The first was red with markings that reminded Clammask of her father. The second-born kit was white, with pale gray rosettes along her back. Although she was still slick from birth, Clammask could tell she would be long-furred in the future. The youngest looked so much like Drumtooth that Clammask was taken aback for a moment.

“They all look very healthy,” Troutpool said, stepping back. She placed her dirty bowl (once full of strengthening medicine for the kitting) and the broken stick Clammask bit into a basket at the den’s edge. “I don’t notice any deformed limbs or other issues. I… I won’t try to predict their future this time.” Clammask licked each kit’s head. None of them looked like her lost golden daughter. Perhaps that was for the best. “Do you still want me to perform that ceremony we discussed?”

“It would make me feel better,” Clammask sighed. Troutpool nodded and stuck her face into her basket. She took out a tiny jar; the gouges carved in for teeth holds left little room on the inside. She peeled off the thin leather lid trapping the contents. The jar was full of dirt. Troutpool sprinkled a bit of dirt over each kitten’s back. Each was too caught up in the shock of being alive, mewing and nursing, to really care.

“Dustfur, Celestial of the Newborn,” Troutpool prayed, setting the jar at Clammask’s head, “you taught the Clans not to mourn the stillborn and those taken before they even got a chance to see the faces of their kin. You were the one who revealed to us how StarClan accompanies litters on their way to the Clans and return to Silverpelt when their time is done. One of Clammask’s kits was one of these StarClan guardians. We do not know what awaits these kits in the coming quarter moon, but we ask you, give them souls of their own. Allow them to grow into strong and proud individuals who will make RippleClan proud. Do not taunt Clammask once more by taking a kit away. Allow them all to live, Dustfur. Give us your celestial blessing.” The ritual done, Troutpool licked the dirt off the kittens, sneering at the taste.

“If one of your daughters is a StarClan warrior,” Troutpool explained, “performing this ritual so soon after their birth may allow them to become cats of their own, rather than a protector for the others.” Clammask nudged her little mollies back to her belly, purring as they cried outrage at yet another grooming. “When you feel strong enough, we can move you to a fresh nest and get rid of all this dirty moss. Do you need anything else?”

“Maybe a leather pelt over my back?” Clammask asked. “It’s a cold night.”

“I’ll also have Mosspounce build a fire outside the den when he wakes up,” Troutpool promised with a nod. She touched noses with Clammask and trotted off.

With a few moments alone in the nursery, Clammask stared at her daughters. Halibutdusk’s daughters too. Scrubmask wasn’t one to hold grudges, Clammask doubted she would be mad at her for finding another mate. But was she right for Halibutdusk? Her feelings for them were not a perfect match to her relationship with Scrubmask. Perhaps it was because she grew up alongside Halibutdusk, shared every heartbreak and celebration alongside them. Scrubmask was a whirlwind that pulled Clammask into a new life, a new family. Halibutdusk had just… always been there. They were the ocean, forever licking the shore, something whose absence Clammask could not imagine.

She prayed she would not have to live in that absence soon.

“I’ll warn you now,” Troutpool said, entering the den with a stitched-up pelt thrown across her back, “your sons are chomping at my tail to see you.” Troutpool threw the pelt over Clammask’s haunches.

“Send them in,” Clammask purred.

“We can come in? Finally!” Honeybuzz and Splashtuft shoved their way into the nursery, bumping shoulders to get a better look at their new siblings. Leathermask and Drumtooth lingered behind them, trying to catch a glimpse from the side. Honeybuzz and Splashtuft almost knocked Troutpool over.

“Is that all of them?” Leathermask gasped, squirming between his two boisterous brothers.

“They’re all mollies,” Clammask purred. “How funny is that?”

“Big brothers for little sisters,” Drumtooth hummed, finally managing to get into the den by shoving Splashtuft’s big flank to the side.

“I don’t suppose you can let me out?” Troutpool chuckled, slipping her basket around her neck.

“Sorry, Troutpool,” Splashtuft chirped. He moved to the side and knocked Drumtooth against the den wall. Troutpool left before she became the next victim of the litter’s excitement.

“How do you feel, Mom?” Honeybuzz asked. His clerical eye studied Clammask’s messy nest and the newborn shine on his sisters’ pelts.

“Very tired,” Clammask admitted, “but very happy. And I'm a little nervous if I’m honest.” Clammask nuzzled her daughters once more. “I want to do something, but I’m afraid you may judge me a little, Honeybuzz. I know I should wait to name them, like Scrubmask and I waited to name you four, but I don’t want to do that this time around. I want them to have names now.” Clammask was right; the enthusiasm in Honeybuzz’s face froze as he tried not to let it drop.

“Don’t do that,” Drumtooth huffed, appearing on the other side of the pack and shoving Honeybuzz’s shoulder.

“If you want,” Clammask sighed, “you can help name your sisters. We can keep it between the five of us for now.”

“Really?” Leathermask gasped softly. “Honeybuzz, let’s name the red kit first!” Honeybuzz squirmed a bit, but joined his brown-furred brother in study of their red-colored sister.

“Could we call her Redkit?” Honeybuzz suggested.

“That’s such a boring name,” Splashtuft scoffed. Clammask couldn’t help but laugh at that. He looked so much like Scrubmask in that moment.

“Troutpool left something behind,” Leathermask pointed out. The small jar with the ritual dust still sat at Clammask’s head. “Huh. The jar is the same color as the red kit’s fur. What if we called her Potterykit?”

“I approve,” Clammask purred. “Let your other brothers name the white molly.” Drumtooth squirmed closer to Splashtuft and they turned their gaze to the long-furred kitten.

“I want to name her Moonkit,” Drumtooth said.

“But our Clan’s guide is called Moonpaw,” Honeybuzz reminded him. “That feels… wrong, in a way.”

“StarClan isn’t going to ban the use of a prefix for the rest of history just because of one cat,” Splashtuft scoffed. “I like it, Drumtooth. Potterykit and Moonkit.”

“But what in the world do we call the last kitten?” Leathermask sighed. All four brothers leaned so close to the black molly, they were practically touching Clammask’s belly.

“I can’t think of a single good name for her,” Splashtuft muttered.

“Nightkit?” Leathermask suggested.

“How many black cats in history have been named Nightkit?” Drumtooth said. “Don’t we want our sister to stand out?”

“Stormkit, Butterflykit, Oysterkit…” Honeybuzz muttered. “Hootkit?”

“Hootkit?” Splashtuft laughed. “Do you want apprentices to make fun of her at Gatherings?”

“Hear me out, hear me out,” Drumtooth said, his soft voice catching his brothers’ attention. “Vervainkit.”

“But vervain is purple,” Splashtuft said.

“And drums are brown,” Drumtooth pointed out. “Vervains are pretty flowers. Something about their color reminds me of her.”

“Potterykit, Moonkit, and Vervainkit,” Clammask declared. She leaned over and nuzzled all of her kits, toms and mollies, newborn and adult. “Welcome to the family.” All four toms purred deeply.

“Do you think Halibutdusk will be upset that we named the kits without them?” Drumtooth wondered.

“To be fair,” Splashtuft chuckled, pulling back, “we don’t have to tell them.”

“I know you all said you were happy for me,” Clammask said, shuffling tighter around the newborns, “but I want to be sure here. They aren’t a replacement for Scrubmask. I wasn’t trying to do that.”

“We know, Mom,” Honeybuzz promised. “We’ll still love the kits. We’re happy to have little sisters to care for.” Clammask’s purrs took over her entire body. Her sons gathered around her and groomed her tired pelt as she soaked in the joy.

(Clammask: 59, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Halibutdusk: 57, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

(Troutpool: 26, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Honeybuzz: 13, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Splashtuft: 13, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)

(Leathermask: 13, male, warrior, nervous, great speaker, good fighter)

(Drumtooth: 13, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)

(Potterykit: 0, female, kit, self-conscious)

(Moonkit: 0, female, kit, quiet)

(Vervainkit: 0, female, kit, fearless)

Lavendertwist works with the AshClan historians to make a proper record of the Rippling Ashes (Darkkick, Weedfoot, and Paleseed) and their exploits in the Dark Forest.

[Image ID: Lavendertwist and Splashtuft face a black rosette apprentice. Under her, it says NEW PLAYER: MITEPAW, 7, FEMALE, INSECURE, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE.]

---

“It’s hard to believe our former leader would grow to hate us so much…” sighed Minkshine, an AshClan historian. She and two other historians, Blackmist and Comfreytoe, sat along the AshClan border while Lavendertwist and Splashtuft lounged on their side, sharing tongues with their forest counterparts. It was sunhigh, after all, and if the group was going to spend most of the day describing the official story of the Rippling Ashes, Lavendertwist and Splashtuft were going to relax.

“When you’re stuck in your ways like he was,” Lavendertwist sighed, “friends can quickly become enemies.”

“So Autumnstar used his Dark Forest powers to curse AshClan…” Blackmist muttered, grooming Splashtuft’s long fur as he spoke. “So many of our friends and family died because of him… their names have to be recorded in the story. All of them.”

“Ah, name memorization,” Lavendertwist chuckled, squirming. “My old nemesis.”

“I can handle that,” Splashtuft chirped. “Start listing out names, Blackmist.”

“Actually,” Comfreytoe groaned, glancing back into the trees of AshClan, “we’re still waiting on someone. She should be here before we continue.”

“Who’s our special guest?” Lavendertwist asked, leaves crunching underneath him as he rolled onto his back.

“Someone who needs a fresh start,” Comfreytoe sighed.

“It’s still hard to believe Eelstar and Barkfur agreed to this,” Blackmist muttered, letting Splashtuft take a turn grooming him, “but if Mitepaw can find some peace from it, so be it.”

“Mitepaw?” Lavendertwist hummed.

“I’m here!” a young voice gulped. While Lavendertwist heard the cat crunching leaves under her paws and panting, he only saw her once she stood in front of a pale bush. She was one of the blackest cats Lavendertwist had ever seen, with even blacket rosette markings. Pale yellow eyes bounced between Lavendertwist and Splashtuft. Bouldersong, one of AshClan’s caretakers, joined the small apprentice.

“RippleClan,” Bouldersong purred, placing his tail on the apprentice’s back, “I would like you to meet Mitepaw. She would like to join your Clan.”

“What?” Splashtuft gasped, sitting up so quickly that his head smacked Blackmist’s jaw.

“Both of her parents died as a result of the chronic frostbite that kept infecting our older Clanmates,” Minkshine explained as Mitepaw rubbed a paw deep into the leaf litter. “She’s struggled in our Clan ever since. We believe that in order to give her a fresh start, she needs to leave our home for another. Since RippleClan’s developed a reputation for accepting wayward apprentices, we thought she would fit in well with you.”

“Eelstar is letting one of his apprentices join RippleClan?” Lavendertwist scoffed. “I thought he hated us.”

“His opinions are more nuanced than you’d think,” Comfreytoe insisted. “Mitepaw is an artisan apprentice. She has a knack for woodwork and should take to your Clan’s crafts well.”

“You really want to join us, Mitepaw?” Splashtuft asked. He risked crossing the border to approach the small apprentice. Since no one clawed his ears off, he kept going. “This isn’t a decision you can take back.” Mitepaw hesitated, words getting caught in her mouth. She looked at her Clanmates, as though waiting for someone to snap at her. She swallowed hard.

“I don’t like AshClan,” Mitepaw said. “Everyone is grieving. It makes it hard to breathe. I don’t want to grow up in a Clan that’s carrying such hurt with them.” The AshClan historians grew lost as Mitepaw explained herself. No one countered her claim.

“I’m sure Downstar will welcome you, then,” Splashtuft purred, touching noses with Mitepaw.

“You can always talk to your old Clanmates at Gatherings, Mitepaw,” Bouldersong sighed. “I hope RippleClan will be better for you than we have been.” Bouldersong licked Mitepaw’s ear. The young apprentice purred softly. She left Bouldersong’s side and joined Splashtuft.

“So you’ll take her to your camp when we’re finished here?” Minkshine asked.

“Absolutely,” Lavendertwist promised as Splashtuft led Mitepaw across the border. “We have just the mentor for her.”

(Lavendertwist: 31, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)

(Splashtuft: 13, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)

(Mitepaw: 7, female, artisan apprentice, insecure, quick to make peace)

[Image ID: Rapidleaf, Asterpaw, and Elmsprout stand behind Mitepaw as she listens to Rattlepelt say, “It will be better for you to live in a Clan that is loyal to its members. You’ve escaped a rotten place, Mitepaw.”]

Later that day, as RippleClan buzzed with sunset activity, Mitepaw took in the sights of her new home. The shipwreck was so tall! Despite the late autumn cold, the sand felt warm from the sun. Even the air felt lighter in RippleClan! This was the right choice, Mitepaw was certain of it. There was a glimmer in everyone’s eyes as they surrounded her following her new apprentice ceremony. She soaked it all in as she stood beside her strange and famous new mentor; Rattlepelt.

“Mitepaw!” A long-furred gray molly made her way to the front of the crowd of unfamiliar faces. A brown molly and a silver tom followed close behind.

“Hello,” Mitepaw chirped softly, bowing to the strangers.

“No need to bow to your Clanmates in this Clan!” the silver molly said. “You’ve probably heard about me. I’m Elmsprout.”

“Oh, Eelstar’s daughter,” Mitepaw gasped. She took Elmsprout in a second time; she could see Eelstar’s color in Elmsprout’s darker tints. “Your father’s told the kits about you.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Elmsprout chuckled. “He and I have… an awkward relationship. I wanted to make sure I could talk to you after your ceremony, because I’ve been where you are. We all have. We’re a bit of a Clan-within-a-Clan, you could say. We’ve all left our original Clans to join RippleClan. This is Rapidleaf and Asterpaw.”

“I’ll show you how to adapt to life in RippleClan,” Asterpaw promised, raising his tail high.

“Leaving my Clan was hard for me as well,” Rapidleaf said with a nod. “Like you, staying in LynxClan would have been too painful. RippleClan has built itself on second chances. Elmsprout befriended me as we both recovered from a bought of food poisoning a few moons ago, and we’ve both looked after Asterpaw since his arrival. If you need help, we promise to look after you, too.”

“That’s…” Mitepaw purred, her whole body rippling, “that’s amazing!”

“It will be better for you to live in a Clan that is loyal to its members.” Oh, right! Rattlepelt was still standing there! She was so unlike any other cat Mitepaw had ever seen. Who else would have the courage to wear a fox pelt? She looked more like a fearsome warrior than the talented artisan Lavendertwist and Splashtuft made her out to be on the walk to RippleClan. “You’ve escaped a rotten place, Mitepaw.”

“I’m excited to learn under you, Artisan Rattlepelt,” Mitepaw said, bowing once more.

“Mitepaw, we don’t bow here!” Elmsprout laughed.

“Leave her be,” Rattlepelt scoffed. “If she wants to bow and use honorable titles, let her. It’s nice to be respected. Now Mitepaw, how would you like to learn the intricacies of leather-making from a master?” Mitepaw’s eyes sparkled. Learn to craft a leather pelt with the quality and skill of Rattlepelt’s fox fur? Learning in a Clan so bright and welcoming, under a mentor that was clearly wise and strong and clever, better than her old mentor in every way?

“Yes please!”

(Mitepaw: 7, female, artisan apprentice, insecure, quick to make peace)

(Elmsprout: 32, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Rapidleaf: 84, female, warrior, lonesome, prophecy interpreter)

(Asterpaw: 12, male, caretaker apprentice, thoughtful, has lots of ideas)

(Rattlepelt: 48, female, artisan, bloodthirsty, leather artist)

Tallowkit reminds himself it will all be okay while Slushkit chews on a stick.

[Image ID: Tallowkit says “She won’t choke, she won’t choke…” as he watches Slushkit. Under Tallowkit, it says + NEW SKILL: SPLASHES IN PUDDLES. Under Slushkit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK WITTED.]

(Tallowkit: 1, male, kit, skittish, splashes in puddles)

(Slushkit: 1, female, kit, polite, quick witted)

Scaleripple and Tempestshade officially become mates.

[Image ID: Scaleripple and Tempestshade face each other. Under Scaleripple, it says + MATE: TEMPESTSHADE. Under Tempestshade, it says + MATE: SCALERIPPLE.]

---

Scaleripple couldn’t help but be in awe of Troutpool and Honeybuzz’s skill. When he had found Tempestshade half a moon prior, leg encased in a shimmering silver jaw, he had been certain it would have to come off. Yet there they were, half a moon later and still possessing four legs, even if one was so bandaged and slathered in ointment that it could hardly be called a leg. Honeybuzz had changed the bandages not so long ago, but Scaleripple could already see dots of blood leaking through. Not that Troutpool and Honeybuzz would notice; no, when Scaleripple visited Tempestshade that day, the Clan had a bit more exciting news to swallow.

“Our instincts are never more controlling than when a queen is kitting,” Troutpool explained to Mosspounce, waiting eagerly outside the den as she and Honeybuzz collected a few supplies into a basket. “Lemmy will know what to do with her kits, but she’ll need spiritual and emotional support. We’ll be with her the entire time, Mosspounce.”

“Are you sure Tempestshade can’t join us?” Mosspounce groaned, glancing around Troutpool to Tempestshade, whose nest sat in a quiet, warm corner of the medicine den. Scaleripple sat beside her, ice-faced and observant. “I want my kits to meet all of their kin.”

“Mosspounce, your kits won’t be able to meet anyone for a while,” Honeybuzz laughed. He slipped the basket around his neck. “They’re born with their eyes and ears shut. They’ll get to meet Tempestshade in the future, don’t worry.”

“But I wanna meet them,” Tempestshade whined. They laid sprawled across the nest, mangled leg carefully frozen on the edge. Their dark green eyes lacked some of their usual sparkle, devoured by the pain.

“You will, I promise,” Mosspounce said. Honeybuzz joined Mosspounce outside the den and the two trotted to the nursery. Troutpool, however, lingered, eyes wandering to Scaleripple.

“Will you be okay while we help Lemmy?” Troutpool asked.

“I won’t die,” Scaleripple growled. He laid in a loaf against Tempestshade’s nest, ignoring Troutpool’s gaze. Tempestshade chuckled, a soft, almost feverish sound. Troutpool shuffled her paws about.

“I didn’t want to have that vision,” Troutpool gulped. “I thought revealing it would spare Tempestshade a guilty verdict and protect RippleClan. I wouldn’t use StarClan to hurt them.”

“Did I say that’s what you did?” Scaleripple scoffed, daring to look up, even if Troutpool’s awkward expression made his skin hurt. “You don’t need to explain yourself. You just have to live with making Tempestshade a living omen of death.” Troutpool bowed her head low, closing her eyes. She followed her former apprentice and Mosspounce to the nursery, where Scaleripple could already hear Lemmy panting with the effort of her kitting.

“You showed her,” Tempestshade mumbled, purring. Scaleripple stared at Tempestshade. Why were they seemingly the only cats who truly understood the other? Scaleripple’s family loved him, he was certain of that, but did they know him like Tempestshade? Did they understand the strange way he worked, which separated him from everyone else? And did anyone else in the Clan dare to face the blunt of Tempestshade’s curse just to spend time with them? Did they appreciate their youthfulness, their honesty, their loyalty? From everything Scaleripple knew, two cats who were as close as he was to Tempestshade could only be called one thing.

“Tempestshade, are we mates?” he asked. Tempestshade cocked their head. A little life came back to their eyes.

“Haven’t we been mates since the summer?” they laughed. Oh. Well then.

“Maybe so,” Scaleripple purred. He rested his head on the edge of Tempestshade’s nest, a whisker length from their nose. Tempestshade hummed happily. They stretched and quickly touched noses with Scaleripple.

For once, Scaleripple didn’t mind.

(Scaleripple: 18, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Troutpool: 26, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Mosspounce: 26, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Honeybuzz: 13, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Tempestshade: 26, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

Mosspounce wants to be a father with different motivations than his own, and feels proud when Lemmy delivers four healthy kits.

[Image ID: Lemmy and Mosspounce watch four newborn kits; a tortoiseshell, a black molly, a silver molly, and a gray tabby. Under Lemmy, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. The tortoiseshell says NEW PLAYER: WEEVILKIT, 0, FEMALE, BULLYING. The black molly says NEW PLAYER: RAVENKIT, 0, FEMALE, SWEET. The silver kit says NEW PLAYER: SILVERKIT, 0, FEMALE, DAYDREAMER. Finally, the gray tabby says NEW PLAYER: WOLFKIT, 0, FEMALE, POLITE.]

(Mosspounce: 26, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Lemmy: 41, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond)

(Weevilkit: 0, female, kit, bullying)

(Ravenkit: 0, female, kit, sweet)

(Silverkit: 0, female, kit, daydreamer)

(Wolfkit: 0, female, kit, polite)

Downstar is almost intimidated by the knowledge Asterpaw has gained in his short time in RippleClan and confidently names him Asterblaze.

[Image ID: Asterpaw, now Asterblaze, is an adult! Under him, it says LEVEL UP! ASTERPAW -> ASTERBLAZE, HAS LOTS OF IDEAS -> CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS.]

(Asterblaze: 12, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)

While Troutpool and Honeybuzz are on patrol, Troutpool sees strange shimmers in the distance. They encounter a kittypet who grew up with old stories of RippleClan and wanted to raise her kits in the wild. Troutpool and Honeybuzz help welcome five more kits to the nursery.

[Image ID: Troutpool and Honeybuzz approach a brown and white molly and five kits; one light brown, two red, and two brown, all with white markings. Undee the mother, it says NEW PLAYER: HARVEST, 53, FEMALE, NERVOUS, GOOD FIGHTER. Under the light brown kit, it says NEW PLAYER: ANCHOVYKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. Under the upper red kit, it says NEW PLAYER: CURRENTKIT, 0, MALE, POLITE. The second red kit says NEW PLAYER: ROBINKIT, 0, MALE, UNRULY. The first dark brown cat in the upper corner says NEW PLAYER: YARROWKIT, 0, FEMALE, NOISY. The last brown kit says NEW PLAYER: BILLOWKIT, 0, MALE, BOSSY.]

(Troutpool: 26, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Honeybuzz: 13, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)

(Harvest: 53, female, queen, nervous, good fighter)

(Anchovykit: 0, male, kit, charming)

(Currentkit: 0, male, kit, polite)

(Robinkit: 0, male, kit, unruly)

(Yarrowkit: 0, female, kit, noisy)

(Billowkit: 0, male, kit, bossy)

39 notes · View notes

eliza-rivers · 2 months ago

Note

hello!

you say you have seven cats and that's super cool! Can you tell me about them? Like, what's their names?

YES.

OKAY SO THE OLDEST IS CHLOE. SHES 14 AND SHES AN ABSOLUTE BITCH TO EVERYONE EXCEPT MY OLDER BROTHER- BUT SHES BEEN NICER SINCE WE STARTED GIVING HER BETTER FOOD- SHES GRAY AND WHITE WITH GREEN EYES SHES SO CUTE

THE SECOND OLDEST IS CINNAMON, HE WAS MINE I GOT FOR MY BIRTHDAY WHEN I WAS 6 AND HES 7 AND HES A REALLY DUMB AND FAT ORANGE TABBY

BUDDY IS MY SISTERS CAT SHE TOOK WITH HER WHEN SHE MOVED FOR COLLEGE, HE LOVES BEING OUTSIDE AND HES LIKE 8??

THEN MY NEWER CATSSSSSS

Chuck Norris is 4 and he’s a jerk to everyone but me and my step dad- he loves showers and he takes like three a day and he used to be really fat but when we moved he lost a lot of weight cause the house is so much bigger and he has lots of space to run around nowww and he’s like my favorite- he’s a tuxedo with gold eyessss

Ruth Bader Ginsburg is like 3 I think and she’s very quiet except for with me and my mom cause she likes to lay on us and she loves making biscuits on us so much and she’s a tuxedo with green eyes and her chin is white

Michael Jackson is a tabby white mackerel or something like that and he’s been a bitch lately- he scratched me in the face after he followed me meowing for five minutes and then I pet him and went to kiss him and he scratched me but he’s a very sweet boy usually-

Frank Sinatra is a ghost tabby and we found him in our backyard and took him in- he’s so fat but his paws are so tiny and he has the biggest eyes and the tiniest nose and he’s so fucking cute-

5 notes · View notes

irlcats-bracket · 2 years ago

Text

Bracket 1 round 1 poll 1

Eleanor vs Tommy vs Chloe

ELEANOR

Nicknamed "Science Kitty" from a lifetime of exacting research, mostly about the gravity of objects pushed from high locations. Very smart and social, and for the last six years has been the constant companion of submitter's daughter, content to be carried around have have hair ties stacked on her head (although she has not historically extended the same patience to those in the veterinary profession and has been described as "spicy" during exams).

TOMMY

A gray Maine Coon with the spirit and brains of an orange tabby cat. He's so dumb submitter cannot even put it into words

CHLOE

She is a big and fat diluted calico with a penchant for taking what isn't hers

#catfight one #catfight one round one #polls #cat #cats

66 notes · View notes

thistlefur · 8 months ago

Note

How many clans are there and who are the leaders?

answered for each story since i plan on posting characters for something else so im not bored trying to get thru BBD alone

bound by devotion

4 clans, 2 clanless colonies. at the start of the story:

ValleyClan - Viperstar - brown tabby tom with pale blue eyes and a white muzzle.

HootClan - Dandelionstar - a gray and white tuxedo tom with brown eyes.

LeveeClan - Riverstar - silver tortoiseshell molly with blue eyes.

QuarryClan - Hogstar - dark gray tom with amber eyes and a wide face.

Barn Cats - Harvester Jonesy (brown tom with gray eyes) and Flockmaster Ermine (tall ginger tom with a ruddy-brown face, brown eyes, and white paws)

Trailer Park Cats - (unofficial leader) Ghostcatcher - silvery gray tom with one golden eye and one green eye.

skyclan's return

5 clans, 1 1/2 other. for the bulk of the story;

ThunderClan - Sparkstar - flame colored tom with green eyes and a torn ear

RiverClan - Stormstar - dusty brown and white tabby molly with blue eyes.

WindClan - Hazestar - smoky gray molly with long fur and blue eyes.

ShadowClan - Antstar - small dark tortoiseshell molly with amber eyes.

SkyClan - Rainstar - large blue-gray tabby tom with dark blue eyes, one of which is scarred.

Neo-ShadowClan - Mudfang - large mottled ginger tom with dark amber eyes.

The Caulfields - Glacier Caulfield (formerly Snowstorm) - battle scarred white molly with piercing dark blue eyes

coward's calling

4 clans 1 1/2 other. for the bulk of the story:

RubbleClan (Division 1) - Wolfstar - large, young gray tom with green eyes

RubbleClan (Division 2) - Ashbelly - large, fat gray tabby tom with hazel eyes

ShiverClan - Blizzardstar - humongous white tom with battle scars, a short tail, and brown eyes

RidgeClan - Rosestar - gorgeous gray and cream calico tom with blue eyes.

DeltaClan - Rapidwhisker - grayish-tan tabby tom with green eyes

Hell's Island Commune - Oleander - reddish-ginger tabby tom with one blue eye

#warrior cat ocs #bound by devotion #coward's calling #skyclan's return #ask

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warrior-cats-rewritten · 1 year ago

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Minor Characters for the Novellas, not all Novellas have them, and some Novellas are getting COMPLETELY redone, but this should be fun!

Starting off with my favorite: Mapleshade's Vengeance! This one isn't under a cut because it is a bit exciting.

Elderly Shadowclan molly - Stonetooth's grandma, Shadetooth, he looks exactly like her.

Shadowclan cat - A pure black tolly named Junipertail.

Riverclan cat that is kinda rude to Mapleshade - A gray tom named Carpfoot. He is Hailstar's ancestor.

A Shadowclan elder - Shadetooth's mate, Kitedapple. He was a the resident Pretty Boy in his youth, a dappled ginger tom.

Rumpled tabby elder from Riverclan who calls Appledusk a traitor - Creekfur, a dark brown tabby tom.

Thunderclan cat calling for Nettlepaw - Well, if this was Deerdapple, we would know. But this isn't, so I'm gonna go with a friend of Deerdapple. Seedpelt seems like a good choice.

Windclan hunting patrol cat number 1 - Swiftflight.

Windclan hunting patrol cat number 2 - Swiftflight's mate, Sheepwhisker, a fluffy white tolly. They are the ancestors of Woollytail. They are Midgepelt's sibling.

Fat gray and white kittypet - Oatmeal. He got a little scar on his cheek after Mapleshade slapped him.

Mysterious Cat who welcomes Mapleshade to The Place of No Stars - Alright. Here it is. The Big Reveal. The cat who guards the Dark Forest as nothing more than a whisper, the one keeping all demonic spirits trapped within is....

Clear Sky.

#character list #important #warriors #warrior cats #wcr #mapleshade's vengeance #mapleshade #skystar #clear sky dotc #clear sky

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voidnoidoid · 27 days ago

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Weaktober 2024 (13): Lost and Found

SORRY i haven't been writing im swamped with studying and exam prep!! Here's a little drabble that's been cooking in my brain.

------

Dull. Boring. Meaningless.

That's how Teddy felt about his life right now. After getting humbled (traumatized) by Gray, he decided to lay low and ride out the humiliation. In his solitude he found himself reflecting on who he used to be.

Cruel, greedy, vapid. Teddy scoffed. How stupid. He used to obsess over expensive things because money equaled power. Having luxury goods, abusing those he thought weaker than him; it gave him an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and made him think he was hot shit. Yeah right. He cringed when he remembered sucking up to that idiot Philip with a silver spoon stuck up his ass. It was so meaningless.

"meow~" a small sound broke Teddy out of his own thoughts. He looked to his left and saw a tiny kitten sitting in a battered cardboard box. It peered up at him, large eyes watery. It trembled and meowed once more. Teddy stopped. Looking at that cat brought out an unpleasant feeling in his heart. An unnamed emotion that gnawed from within. Pity? No, empathy.

Psh, feel sorry for a kitten? Him? No way. He had a reputation to maintain, he thought as he stood alone in the alleyway. He turned around and started to walk away when-

"Meoow!" the kitten cried out more desparately than the last.

"Ugh!" Teddy sputtered, turning on his heel and walking back to the kitten. He squat down and gave it a closer look. The feline was a gray tabby with a white patch on its chest. Pitifully skinny, it looked like a bag of skin, fur and bones. Teddy held out his palm for the kitten to sniff. He jolted when it rubbed its head against the back of his hand.

"Hey little guy. Sorry, I don't have any food on me right now. I'll be back tomorrow yeah?" Teddy said, petting the kitten's head gently.

Over the next few weeks, Teddy routinely fed and played with the kitten who gained just a bit more weight. He hated to admit it but he got attached. The kitten gave him something to look forward to.

And when he bumped into Eugene building a shelter for the kitten in the rain, he realized that he wasn't alone. He had new friends now, just like how the kitten had both him and Eugene caring for it, and that's when Teddy decided to bring it home.

---

"Geez Co, you're so fat. I'm spending all my allowance on you." Teddy said. He waved a cat toy around, smiling as he watched Co rolling around, swiping at the feather. After taking her to the vet and going through the adoption procedures, Co became part of his family. His folks were surprised at first, but then welcomed the change Co brought in him.

Both of them were lost, but now found. Teddy wouldn't have it any other way.

#weak hero webtoon #weak hero fanfic #weaktober #weaktober2024 #weaktober 2024 #teddy jin #eugene gale #weak hero co #weak hero cola #voidnoidoid writes

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 10 months ago

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Cat

Gale has a terrible, no good, very bad day. Thea decides to help in an unconventional way. NSFW.

If he was being honest, Gale found that most of the days on their adventure had been good. Today, however, was not one of those days. Fat. Middle aged. Can’t keep up. Not hitting the target enough. Putting her in danger. Gods, if anything happens to her because of me, I…

“Meow?”

Is that a cat? That surely cannot be Tara because she would’ve announced herself with an energetic, “Mr. Dekarios!” He pulled the flap of his tent and, as he predicted, the cat was not Tara the tressym. It was an orange tabby with bright green eyes. Funny, that’s the exact color of Thea’s eyes. “Hello there! Are you lost, little one? Come in, come in.”

The cat meowed happily and walked in, waiting for Gale in an excited way. A cat excited about a person is very strange, though perhaps that is simply how this lovely cat is.

He went back to sitting on his bedroll, and the cat followed. Seems to be waiting for me to say something? Very curious. “I don’t know why you’re here, my friend, but I’m happy for the company.” The cat began to purr and climbed onto his lap. He laughed nervously. “Want a cuddle, do you? I suppose that’s alright. You’re awfully cuddly, aren’t you, sweetness?” He starched behind the cat’s ears, the purring growing louder. “You know, this is just what I needed. I had, quite frankly, an awful day. Every day on this journey I’m feeling my age more and more. And look at me!”

His parasite tingled.

I do see you, Gale, and I, quite frankly, love what I see.

Thea?!?!?!

Yeah! Hi! Sorry, I didn’t mean to like…be weird or anything. When we got back, you just seemed so fucking sad, and I had no idea why. I felt so bad, love. So I thought, “Well, Gale likes cats, and I can wildshape into one in seconds, maybe that would make him feel better.” So…I did that! Yup. The cat stared up at Gale with what he thought were adorably pleading eyes.

My love, you are the most thoughtful and sweetest woman in the realm. And it’s not weird! I’m still very interested in learning more about the magic behind wildshape.

I just…do it. I know that’s not the most helpful, but I’d say it’s the most accurate. At least for me! Maybe Halsin could explain it better. Anyways, if you want me to change back, I can.

Absolutely not. Unless you want to, of course! I don’t know how comfortable you are…

Thea practically began to vibrate with purrs in his lap. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m a cat in a nice, warm, soft lap. This is heaven, Gale love.

He chuckled softly, scratching behind her ears. Darling, you may stay in heaven for as long as you’d like. Then a thought slowly dawned on him. Oh shit. The glamour—

Gale, please—

One moment!

You look better with it off!

He stopped just short of his earring. I…do?

Yes. Well, I think so. You’re very handsome either way, but I prefer you like this. You’re just so snuggly, and I love that.

Gale blinked. Snuggly? I don’t think I’ve ever had that word associated with me at any point in my life. I will…take that as the compliment I hope it is.

Gale, of course it’s a compliment! Listen, I know that I’m literally the last person who should be saying any of this, but you’re very, very, very handsome. I love how soft you feel…it makes me want to hug you more than I already do. The gray in your hair is gorgeous, makes you look so distinguished. You’re hot. That’s all there is to it, love!

He laughed. Thea darling, I’m not quite sure how to respond to all of that. However, I will say that I’m pleased that I make you feel that way.

I’ll show you “pleased” Mr. Of Waterdeep! Thea leapt off his lap and then reverted to her quite beautiful wood elf form. “Sorry, I just need to do this!” She scooched over to him and then threw soft arms around him. “I love you no matter what you look like, okay? But as you are, right now, in this exact moment, you are perfect. To me, you are perfect. Perfect as you are.”

He motioned for them to lay down, which they did face-to-face, their fingers entwined. “I’ll take your word for it and hope that you know that it applies to you as well. You are stunning. You take my breath away. You arouse such feeling in me, my love. What I feel for you is more than anything I’ve ever felt towards anyone, mortal or immortal.” A wry smile tugged at his lips. “I love you no matter what you look like. As you are right now, in this exact moment, you are perfect. To me, you are perfect. Perfect as you are, dearest.”

They moved closer together, enough that their noses touched. Her bright green eyes (I know those anywhere, my love) met his brown ones. She felt one of his hands caress the softness of her wide hips, as one of hers rubbed one of his lovehandles. “I love you, Gale.”

“Love you too, sweetness.”

They shared a quick kiss and stayed lying like that for some time before Thea spoke. “I don’t think you’re that old either, if I’m being honest.”

Gale rolled his eyes. “Darling, you’re a wood elf and a druid on top of that. Of course, forty isn’t going to be that old to someone like you! But to me, it simply means my youth has passed.” Fat. Middle aged. Physically unfit. Thea loves it. Thea loves me. She loves me as I am. To her I’m perfect. “Ah, but with age comes wisdom, I suppose, so it can’t be that bad.”

She stuck her tongue out at Gale and made a valiant attempt to look angry but alas, she only looks more adorable. “A wood elf and druid I may be, but I am only thirty! And you’re not that bloody old even for a human. I mean, Elminster Aumar’s like twelve hundred right?” She grinned at him. “Surely Gale of Waterdeep could figure out how to live a few hundred years?”

His expression was playful with more than little seriousness. “Challenge accepted, my dear. While I get to work on that, there’s something more immediate, more pressing, one might say, that I need to see to.” The hand on her hip slowly drifted up to an unbelievably perfect breast, gently kneading it. “I find this to be a quite serious distraction.”

“Do you now?” She teased, bringing a long leg over his hip. “Is this also distracting?”

His lips met hers in a somewhat sloppy kiss, the hand on her breast continuing to knead. “Quite. Might I suggest—” He was silenced with a kiss and a squeeze of his side. “What? Is something wrong?” Gods, have I overstepped? I don’t think I have. She would have it written all over her face if I did.

Any hint of teasing left her face, though she was smiling. “If you ask something of me, then I’d like to ask something of you too, love.”

I’m not sure what she’s getting at, but I’ll play along. “Of course, but I only wondered if you’d take your shirt off.”

She moved to sit up and remove her shirt, revealing what Gale had longed to see---porcelain skin covered in freckles and a large, soft belly and equally large breasts. Gods be good, she’s even more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Thea, you are a goddess. “Now you.” She whispered as she lay back down.

“As the lady requests, so it shall be done.” he said as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring his heart threatening to beat through his chest. She thinks I’m perfect. She thinks I’m handsome. I trust her judgment on so many things, so why not this? “Here goes…” Sitting up, he took a deep breath before taking his shirt off.

He was not prepared for the gasp that escaped Thea.

“Oh my gods, you’re so hot!” She squeaked, her hands over her also perfect mouth and green eyes wide. “I bet she never told you you’re hot! Well, you are!” Suddenly, she grinned and reached for him. “Come here, love!” As the lady commands! He resumed his former position, their bodies pressed against each other. A look of wonder graced Thea’s face as she ran her hands over his hairy chest that made Gale’s heart skip a beat. “You feel amazing…”

“So do you.” He captured her with a passionate kiss, a hand running up and down her pillowy upper arm. “How would you like it if I kissed every freckle on your gorgeous body, o goddess of mine?” As her cheeks turned red, he chuckled. “One must be able to take compliments when one is so willing to give them, my sweet.”

Shaking her head, she said shyly, “I’m not a goddess. I’m just me.”

Gale shook his head vehemently. “You are. I happen to be an expert on such matters—”

“Mhmm.”

“And I can say with one hundred percent certainty that you are, in fact, a goddess.”

“I-I’m not.” Her entire upper half is blushing. Goodness gracious, she’s so beautiful. “I’m a normal—”

“Not normal, extraordinary. Extraordinary in every way.” He kissed her, slowly at first and then more heated. “Please allow me to show you why you are deserving of worship, darling. Please.” He tugged on her lower lip, noting how she moaned. Perfect. Moan more for me. “Please, my beauty.”

She nodded wordlessly.

He tutted at her affectionately. “No, sweetness. Use your words.”

Gale did not know how it was possible for his beloved to turn redder, but she did. “I-I…I want…” She trailed off as her gaze returned to his plump, hairy chest. In every part of her life, she seems so confident and sure of herself. But in this arena, she’s so shy. Maybe I should take the lead.

Tipping her chin up, his brown eyes met hers. “Would you like me to touch you?”

“Yes.”

That’s a start! His other hand untied her trousers and slipped inside her underwear. He imagined a mass of ginger curls at the apex of her thighs based on what he felt. “May I touch you here?”

“Gods, yes.”

Smirking, his long fingers circled her clit, causing her to moan. “That’s it, darling. There’s a good girl.” While this is greatly enjoyable, I think a change of position might make things easier. He withdrew his fingers. Oh, she is not happy. Don’t worry, my love! “Lie on your back, sweetness.” Still blushing, she did as she was told. “Good girl. You are so worthy of devotion…let me show you…”

She wrinkled her nose and giggled, reaching for her trousers. “And maybe I should show you the rest of me. That’s if you want—"

Within moments, he was tugging her pants and underwear off, panting heavily. Once they were discarded, he stopped. “There’s something you need to know. I won’t be making love to you tonight.”

Upon hearing that, she whined. “Gale…”

“Shhh, I won’t leave you wanting. Especially after how good you’ve been to me this evening. My beauty, I have something very special planned for us, but it’s…not quite ready yet.” A few more days of preparing, and then I will make the sky come alive for you. There was a time I could do it in an instant…no. Don’t go down that road tonight. Focus on her. “I want it to be the most magical night of passion you could ever dream of.”

“I’m happy to wait, love, and I’m very interested in hearing about how you won’t leave me wanting.” She attempted to squeeze her thighs together for more friction, but with him now in between her legs, she got no relief from that. But relief is coming, my sweet.

With a sly look on his face, he smirked. “This tongue isn’t simply for speaking, my darling pussy.” Pause. “Cat.”

She laughed and groaned, covering her hands over her face. “Gale, I love you so much, but that was awful!”

He looks far too pleased with himself. “Well, I happened to think it was clever. But if that’s not to your taste, my dear, then my tongue has other talents.” His head dipped as his hands gripped her thighs. They are so incredibly large. Soft. Full of freckles like the rest of her. “So wet for me already, my dear, and I’ve barely done anything…” His very practiced tongue circled and sucked her clit. She tastes so sweet. My beauty, I could feast upon you every moment for the rest of our lives, and it wouldn’t be enough to sate me. Must taste more of her. All of her. His hands kneaded her thighs, her soft flesh spilling through his fingers. She is perfect. Perfect in every way. I can’t wait to show her the Astral Plane, making her feel sensations she’s never felt, hear her cries of utter pleasure as I— The tadpole stirred once again.

As you what, love? I’m so close…

That must wait, sweetness. There’s so much I want to show you. But for right now, let go. Let go, my love.

Several small gasps escaped Thea’s perfectly plump lips as she came apart on his fingers and tongue. “That’s it. There’s a good girl. What a good girl, my darling.” He purred, finally taking his mouth off her and glancing at her heaving chest and belly. “What a sight you are! Still trembling as I wring you out…so wet…good girl, Thea…good girl…” Her breathing evened out as he praised her, her body eventually stilling. “Such a good girl for me. I’ll clean you up and then—”

“What about you?” She inquired softly. “You’re quite…excited…” That’s one word for it.

He sat up and conjured a bowl of water and moistened a clean cloth with it. “No, no, no. Don’t worry about me. There will be many other nights for that.” They fell into a comfortable silence as he cleaned her (and licked her juices off my fingers and wiped my beard) and then settled on the bedroll with Thea spooning him. I’m in heaven. This must be heaven. It must…

She planted light kisses along his shoulder and kept one hand on his hairy belly. Truly, this is heaven. I’ve never had any lover as interested in my body as she is. No. She loves me. All of me. No one has ever loved me as she does. “Hey, you alright love?” She gave his middle a squeeze. “You’re very quiet, which is not exactly normal for you.”

He chuckled. “Simply thinking, my love. Would you like to stay? Obviously, you’re free to return to your tent and sleep, if you wish.” Good gods, man. You’re forty years old, not a Blackstaff apprentice.

Gale felt her smirk into his shoulder. “Elf or cat?” she asked, punctuating each word with a kiss.

She won’t see this coming.

“Darling, I can never have enough pussy.”

“You naughty man!” She managed to get out as they both exploded with laughter. “Gale, you are the very definition of a chivalrous pervert.” He turned his head to give her a kiss.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way, would you?” He teased lightly. However, he felt as if his heart was beating through his chest. I know what you’ll say. But I so need to hear it.

Her bright green eyes were full of emotion and sleep. “Never. You are just what I’ve always wanted and hoped for. Never, ever change, love.”

Gale thought of his previous lovers, including Mystra, and how he had been asked by every single one to alter part of himself to suit their needs and desires. And then there’s her. She who wants me as I am. She who wants me alive and safe and happy and…She who wants…me. “Thank you, my darling girl. You are a wonder. Truly.” He kissed her nose and then turned his head back around, sleep starting to claim him as well. The protest on her lips died as Thea’s meditation started, her hold on him slackening slightly. “Have the sweetest reliving of memories, Thea my dear.” He whispered, as his eyes fluttered closed.

And you have the loveliest dreams, my handsome man. Her voice murmured in his mind via their tadpoles. My beautiful wizard. My Gale.

I will certainly try, my beauty. Good night.

#thea wildheart #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #gale of waterdeep #plus size tav #wood elf tav #druid tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fan fiction #thea's thought process is *chef's kiss*#gale likes pussy...cats

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stn-tmblr · 2 months ago

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I’ve got 3 cats. One’s a short haired, tuxedo named LuuLuu. Another is a fat, very fluffy, long haired, ginger tabby cat, named Morty. And the other one is a long haired, dark gray, tabby cat, named Sebastian.

- 😸🐾✨

🥺they all sound very lovely. Luuluu, Morty, and Sebastian. What darlings.

#obey me #satan obey me #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me roleplay #asks

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masterwords · 2 years ago

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Be Mine

Summary: Hotch is a sucker for Valentine's Day. He's' also got it bad for Derek.

Words: 970

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Note: ALL FLUFF. Just soft soft soft times. Super short and very sweet. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!

********

“Valentine's Day is a scam,” Emily groaned, spinning her chair until she faced Spencer, hoping for a little back-up. Usually he was good for that, equipped with some bizarrely specific facts to prove her point. Except he didn't really pay any attention to her, he was holding a crisp white envelope in his hand, Hotch's chicken scratch in capital letters written in black ink that was bleeding into the fibers of the paper like little veins. “Right? Just lining the pockets of fat cat CEOs at Hallmark.”

Emily hadn't been on the team long, so she didn't know. She had no way of knowing that the card she found on her desk this morning from Hotch that bore on the front of it one spritely gray tabby kitten with huge blue eyes and read “Got You This Just Be-claws” was the result of at least an hour spent in the greeting card aisle of the supermarket. Possibly more than one supermarket. He was very particular. And Spencer's “You Light Me Up” card with a simple drawing of a lightbulb, JJ's soccer ball that said “I Get a Kick Out of You”, an elegant little watercolor of a bird for Gideon or a vintage car for Rossi...specially chosen. Not a spur of the moment decision, these were purchased well in advance. He never wrote anything inside of them save for his name. Just Hotch, right there beneath whatever clever little saying might be printed on the inside.

"And the wax seals, really?" She scrunched her nose and picked at the thick white wax with what little was left of her fingernails. "It's a little much."

"We had a case in New Jersey where the seal on envelopes was laced with LSD," Spencer answered quietly, peeling his envelope slowly open so he didn't crumble the wax. He liked the feel of it, the ornate foliage in the center of it, how romantic and old-fashioned it was. Hotch's home office was well-stocked with stationary for letter writing, correspondence with ink and paper. The two of them had that in common.

Emily stared in disbelief...this job never ceased to horrify her.

"Yeah, okay. That makes sense. But the cards are still cheesy. And over-priced...he spent like $5 on this thing." She was already caving. The kitten was adorable, and it was a kind gesture. A little nerdy and childish, maybe, and something she believed out of character for that grumpy man in the high office...but maybe she'd misjudged him.

“I think it's nice,” Spencer replied, finally setting his card up beside the pencil cup. Truth be told, he'd wondered at the little cards himself once upon a time, and Gideon had explained it to him as simply as he could. Hotch didn't often express himself in words, not at work, certainly not to them, but in small gestures he let them know that they were important, and he valued them. In little aliens and kittens and cheesy dad jokes.

“What about you, Morgan? Don't you think Valentine's Day is a little silly? Or do you subscribe to the whole red roses and candlelit dinner thing?”

“I dunno,” he said with a smile, staring at his own card. It was goofy, a little vintage thing with a heart and a hammer that read “Must I hammer it in?” On the inside was just an H and a set of numbers, a secret code. He didn't pull it out of the envelope, just slipped it into his briefcase and leaned back in his chair. “It's better than a stack of fresh case files.”

Emily grunted, agreeing, and set the little cat card up on her desk begrudgingly. It was adorable. Sickeningly so. And how did he know she liked cats, anyway? Did he know she was thinking about getting one? About how lonely her apartment got without any other sign of life aside from her own barely beating heart? “What was yours?”

“Tools.” Derek's reply was quick. Too quick. She nodded knowingly, taking mental note of the fact that he was the only one of them not to display his.

“Right. Because of your properties.”

“Yeah, ya busybody. Because of my properties.”

An address. A time. A delivery of flowers first, huge blood red roses dripping with a decadent floral scent that hung in the air. Minutes later a delivery from Derek's favorite Chinese restaurant, more food than the two of them could even hope to eat in one night. Derek set it all up in the middle of the dusty wood floor on a blanket, candles lit in excess because most of the electricity in the place was shut off, Clooney's tail nearly burning the place down more than once in his excitement.

And then there was Hotch in his suit but no tie, another bouquet in his hands, standing in the darkened doorway. It took him only a moment to kick out of his shoes, push the flowers into Derek's hands and wrap him in a hug.

“Happy Valentine's Day, you old sap,” Derek whispered, nuzzling into the warmth of silk and skin. Hotch hugged him tighter, breathed him in, pulled strength from him and gave it back in return. It was a long day, full of things they'd rather forget, but the night was young.

“I love you.”

Food first, and then they'd get to a little demolition before the night came to an end. Take some aggression out on lath and plaster, rusted and crumbling old nails, knob and tube wiring that connected room to room to room like sinew to bone. With sleepy eyes they would shower away the sweat and grime, sleep with bellies full of good food and wine and yeah...Valentine's Day is kind of a scam, but Derek didn't mind. Not when he reaped the benefits so spectacularly.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #spencer reid #hotchgan #hotch x morgan #criminal minds #ficlet

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