#Ginger Trill

[barzonlinemag]

#BarzOnlineMag_LitLink

🫡🎶

#TellAFriend is out a single by @Ginger_Trill x @TouchlineTruth is currently out now of their upcoming ep titled #BoyzenDaHood

Streaming available:

Https://music.apple.com/za/album/boyzen-da-hood/1711566495

So always remember to #GoHardOnline with @barzonlinemag

[mooooonnnzz]

here me out, miguel w a daughter who adores mayday

Babysitting Mayday! // Miguel O’Hara x Daughter!Reader X Mayday Platonic

✮ fem reader!

✮ teen reader WOOO

✮ reader is hesitant on looking after mayday at first but warms up

✮ i think thats all??

✮ SEND MORE IDEAS FOR DAD MIGUEL!!

✮ i got a lil carried away w the req 😭

You scrolled through your phone absentmindedly, too caught up in the thoughts running wild in your head to realize the front door was open. You also failed to hear the loud clamor of Peter eagerly dashing down the hallway. What brought you out of your head was Peter’s frantic calls of your name. He waved his hand at you, smiling widely. Mayday, who was on the baby carrier that was wrapped around his chest, babbled cheerfully, clearly mocking her father’s giddy attitude.

“Peter, what are you doing here?” You turned off your phone and tossed it aside.

“I’m here to lend Mayday over to you!” The smile on his face grew impossibly larger. Mayday threw her cubby fists up in the air, kicking her feet back and forth as she let out a gurgled “Yeah!”

“Wait, what?”

Peter put his hands under Mayday’s armpits and lifted her up. “Yeah! Miguel told me that you’d love to take care of Mayday.” He placed Mayday on the couch, chuckling softly at her when she flopped forward onto the couch. She pushed herself up and shook her head, her rumpled ginger hair swayed along the action.

Peter set his hands on his waist and turned his attention over to you, his smile dropping at your aghast expression. “Did he tell you?”

“No! He didn’t tell me.” Your eyes trailed off to Miguel’s bedroom where he was peacefully sleeping, unaware of the situation that was unfolding in the living room.

“Oh…” Peter frowned, unclasping the baby carrier around his chest. “I’m sorry to dump her on you, kiddo.” Peter’s genuine empathy did lessen the annoyance of the whole thing. He looked truly upset for you. “I wish I could take her back but I already promised to take MJ out on a date.”

The mention of his date made you notice the crumpled black suit Peter was wearing. His suit was crinkled and untucked, and the white button up was pooling out of his jeans. His tie was loose and sweat stains were seen on his shirt. His hair which looked like it was styled properly before he came rushing over here became messy and unkempt. Peter toyed with the cuffs of his suit, flashing a charming smile at you. “How do I look?”

“Oh, uhm—!”

The loud trill of Peter’s phone saved you from the inevitable truth. He jumped at the sudden noise and fished his phone out of his back pocket, walking away from the living room and into the hallway to privately talk to who you assume is MJ.

You look over to Mayday and weakly smiled at her. “I’m stuck with you now, huh?” As if she understood you, she clapped her hands together, smiling back at you.

Peter comes back, placing a large bag filled with Mayday’s necessities and what not. He quickly informs you of Mayday’s schedule, what to feed her, when to change her, and other things you dreaded doing. He finished his rambling with a loving kiss on Mayday’s forehead and chaste goodbye with you.

The front door closed and you were officially alone with Mayday for the time being. You awkwardly looked over to Mayday, a small snort leaving your lips as she rolled back and forth on the couch. Though, your laugh was cut short when Mayday rolled too close to the edge. You let out a gasp as you reach out for her and catch her in your arms with ease.

“Jesus, Mayday. You almost hurt yourself!” You tell her, knowing she couldn’t fully understand you. Mayday only giggled in response and began clambering out of your hold. This is going to be a long night.

The loud joyful shrills of a little baby sounded in the house, disrupting Miguel from his nap. With a groan, he got up from the bed and slipped on the unicorn slippers you gifted him for Father’s Day. He let out a yawn and he sleepily shuffled out into the living room.

“What’s with all the noise?” He grumbles out, bleary eyes blinking harshly under the bright light.

His question was answered with little Mayday darting past him, giddily squealing as you chased her. Miguel rose a curious brow, watching you scoop Mayday into your arms. “I caught you!”

“Why is Mayday here?” He squinted at Mayday, letting out his signature sigh. He treaded his way into the kitchen to make himself his coffee.

Mayday crawled out of your arms and wrapped her legs around your neck, resting her little body on your head. You placed your hands on her tiny knees to root her in place as you walked over to Miguel.

“Apparently, you told Peter that I’d babysit her today.” You looked at him with such an accusing look that Miguel had to roll his eyes. “Oh, I did?” He put a pink princess cup under the coffee maker and watched with tired eyes how the cup filled up with his bitter coffee. He was using the coffee cup you gave him when you were little. Removing the cup out of the coffee maker, he took a quick sip before smirking at you.

“I don’t remember saying that.” His voice was a mix of amusement and sarcasm. To mask the growing shit-eating grin on his face, he brought the cup back to his lips and started drinking from it.

You gasp dramatically. “Yes, you do! You did this on purpose.”

“Don’t act like taking care of Mayday is so hard,” Miguel said, ruffling Mayday’s hair with his hand. “Isn’t that right, mamita? She’s just being dramatic, isn’t she?” Miguel spoke to Mayday in his baby voice. She babbled in response.

Miguel plopped down on the couch, sipping his coffee as he grabbed the remote. “I didn’t want to babysit her for another time so I told him that you’d babysit her,” Miguel says, surfing through the channels to find anything that piqued his interest.

Your eyes widen in realization. “Is that why you took a nap in the afternoon? So he wouldn’t see you?”Mayday’s hands gripped onto your hair, pulling and playing with it. “Ay! Mayday.” You grabbed her sides and removed her from your shoulders. Your fingers grazed her stomach, and squeals of laughter left her as you tickled her. Her hands let go of your hair in the process.

“Yeah,” He takes another sip of his coffee. “I told him I was busy with work.” A light chuckle escapes Miguel. “I don’t know why he believed me. I’m off on Saturdays.”

With Mayday in your hands, you decided to drop her on him for revenge. You dropped Mayday on his chest, her body tumbling down his chest and onto his thighs. “Careful with my coffee!” Miguel scolded, jerking the hand that held the coffee cup away from the destructive toddler.

“My bad.” You laugh, laying down on the sofa. Mayday notices you laying down and waddles her way over to you, flopping herself onto your stomach. You run your fingers through her hair, soothing Mayday to sleep.

“She’s so cute.” You whisper, smiling at Mayday who’s curled up into a ball on your stomach. “She reminds me of you when you were younger,” Miguel says softly, his heart warming at the sight of you and Mayday.

Your mouth drops open in shock. “I was not this crazy as a baby.” You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to sit down in peace ever since Mayday arrived. There was no way you were as energetic as her.

“Oh, you don’t remember, but I do.” He shakes his head in amusement. “You pooped and peed everywhere—“

“—Okay, okay! I don’t see the reason why you needed to mention me crapping and pissing everywhere.”

Miguel fights back a laugh as he shrugs. “But it’s true.” You scoff playfully, your eyes moving to the TV screen to watch whatever Miguel put on.

A comfortable silent blankets the three of you. As your eyelids begin to droop, your hand cards through Mayday’s hair one last time before you knock out. The stress of today finally catching up on you. Though, you couldn’t complain. Mayday was fun to have around. Maybe babysitting Mayday wasn’t so bad.

[pupsmailbox]

CAT ︰FELINE ID PACK

NAMES︰ aina. aislin. alonzo. amaris. amaru. ash. asher. aster. aylin. bast. bastet. bengal. burmilla. butterscotch. calico. cassandra. cat. catherine. catline. catness. catrine. catriona. catsel. chacha. chancey. charm. chartreux. chat. chaton. chausie. cheshire. chichi. clover. dreametta. drowsette. dust. dustbunny. eada. elara. falin. fang. feli. felias. felicity. felin. felina. feline. felis. felius. felix. felyne. fifi. fluffy. fortuna. fortunato. fuwa. gatita. gatito. gato. george. ghost. ginger. gold. hima. hiraya. honey. hypnoticesse. kat. katelyn. katti. kiara. kiki. kissa. kit. kitlita. kitri. kittie. kittlin. kitty. kizzy. koi. koneko. korat. kovu. kätzchen. layla. leo. leon. liora. lolly. lucifer. luckita. lucky. luna. lunar. lunette. mafdet. maine. maneki. mao. marble. marie. meekine.meeko. meowesse. meowette. meowlina. meowser. meowy. mew. mewbell. mewmi. mewy. mici. micino. mimi. minette. minou. mischieffe. mist. mizuki. molly. mona. moonie. morphius. munchkin. nala. narcyz. narkissa. nebula. neko. nemuri. neoma. neomi. nova. nuka. nyamu. oliver. otto. palu. patches. pawline. platinum. plato. purmwyn. purriette. purrsie. pwounce. ragdoll. ravae. saffron. selenia. silver. simba. sleepesse. smoke. smokey. star. stone. stripes. suerte. sunny. tabby. thomas. tiger. tigger. tigris. tom. ton. tyche. tychon. valor. victor. victoria. vitami. whiskers. yue. yume. zira.

PRONOUNS︰ bean/bean. bell/bell. bite/bite. calic/calico. calico/calico. carnivore/carnivore. cat/cat. cat/like. caterwaul/caterwaul. catnip/catnip. chance/chance. charm/charm. chase/chase. chatter/chatter. che/cher. chirp/chirp. chuff/chuff. claw/claw. cle/clever. coin/coin. col/collar. collar/collar. curi/curiou. cute/cute. dark/dark. dream/dream. drow/drowsy. dust/bunny. dust/dust. dust/kitty. dustbunny/dustbunny. dustkitty/dustkitty. fae/fang. fang/fang. fang/fang.carni/carnivore. fate/fate. feli/feli. feli/feline. felicitous/felicitou. feline/feline. flu/fluffy. fluff/fluff. for/tune. fuzz/fuzz. fwu/fwuffy. ginger/ginger. grey/grey. hi/his. hiss/hisse. hunt/hunt. hunter/hunter. hx/hxm. hy/hym. hy/hymn. it/it. ix/ix. jungle/jungle. kit/kit. kit/kitten. kit/kitty. kitty/kitty. luck/luck. me/meek. meow/meow. meows/meow. mew/mew. mimimi/mimimi. mis/mischief. molly/molly. moon/moon. mrow/mrow. mrreow/mrreow. mrrp/mrrp. nap/nap. neko/neko. nim/nimble. nya/nay. nya/nya. paw/paw. pet/pet. play/play. pou/pounce. prr/prr. purr/purr. queen/queen. quiet/quiet. roar/roar. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. slee/sleep. sneak/sneaky. snooze/snooze. soft/soft. star/star. stripe/stripe. tabby/tabby. thxy/thxm. thy/thym. tiger/tiger. tired/tired. tom/tom. trill/trill. void/void. whis/whisker. yawn/yawn. yowl/yowl. zhe/zher. zi/zi. zz/zz. 🍣. 🐀. 🐁. 🐅. 🐆. 🐈. 🐈‍⬛. 🐭. 🐱. 🐾. 💤. 😺. 🥛. 🥩. 🦁. 🦴. 🧶. 🧸. 🧺.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

abyss moth boy with an abyss moth reader?????? i die every time i read about two characters that are the only members of a distinct species/pos

ahhhh YES, my moon and stars this concept is a classic!!

unlike Foul Legacy, who has to join with a human host, you developed the ability to hold a human form over time, walking the above land amongst the mortals with sharp curiosity. but your senses still remain, and the moment you run into Childe on the streets of Liyue you instantly catch a glimpse of the Abyss lingering behind his eyes. Legacy nearly shrieks inside of the Harbinger's mind, clawing and wailing for him to go back when he passes you, only quieting to a soft whimper when Childe hisses at him to shut up. Legacy's unusually silent for the rest of the day, barely letting out a single chirp and instead filling Childe's head with soft scratching noises like he's worrying his talons. he seems to freeze anytime Childe yells at him, whining and curling up in the furthest corners with a huff until nighttime

the stars come out, and an enormous shadow leaps from the window of Northland Bank and into the darkness

you meet on the top of a mountain, Abyssal forms blending in with the night as you circle the other monster. Legacy leans closer, letting out a tentative chirp, and your fur ruffles as you trill back in return, your new companion's eye brightening in delight. he pounces on you, the two of you wrestling playfully until you triumphantly lay all your body weight on top of him, Legacy whining until you sit up again. he gently nudges his head with yours and you snuggle next to each other under the stars, purrs twice as loud with both of you here. Legacy yawns, burying his face in your fluff, and slowly, unintentionally, the two Abyss monsters drift off to a peaceful sleep

the next morning you and Childe wake up staring at each other, a few leaves in his ginger hair, and he gives you a lopsided smile and sticks out his hand to shake

[sjsmith56]

Assignment Bucky Barnes, Chapter 35 - What Should Have Been

Summary: Bucky, Ariel and Sam drive to Tampa to see someone from Bucky’s past who is still alive.

Length: 5K

Characters: Bucky, Ariel, Sam, Rebecca, Rebecca’s daughter and grandson.

Warnings: Bucky upset at having to wait to see his sister. Fluff.

Author notes: This is the end of Assignment Bucky Barnes. There will be no epilogue because, even though Bucky and Ariel knew they would have descendants, they also didn't have specific knowledge of their future together. They got married right away so that Rebecca could be part of the marriage that was expected to occur in the 1940s. The rest of their life together was up to them, as it should have been from the moment they met, when a beautiful young woman showed a bit of her leg in 1940, receiving a whistle of appreciation from a handsome young man known for his ways with the ladies.

<<Chapter 34

The next morning Rosie jumped on the bed and licked Bucky on the nose, while making soft trills in her throat. As Ariel stretched, he opened his eyes to the ginger cat.

"I suppose you're hungry," he said to the feline. "We do have food, don't we?"

"There was some already here and a litter box," Ariel replied as she yawned. "Maybe Will got them for her."

Neither one of them made a move to get out of bed, until Rosie touched Bucky's nose tentatively with her paw.

"Alright, I'm getting up," he complained then he looked at the clock. "We do have to get going soon. Up you get. You can have the bathroom first."

Patting Ariel on the rounded outline of her bottom he stood up and pulled on his briefs. Heading to the kitchen he looked for the cat food that was supposedly already there. Finding it he put a serving out for the cat, then started the coffee up. He slipped some bacon into a pan and pulled out the bread and a carton of eggs. By the time the bacon was done, Ariel was downstairs, looking amazing in a sun dress and carrying an overnight bag. She took over while he took care of his necessities. When he got back down with his bag breakfast was on the table.

"I like your kitchen," she said, then corrected herself. "Our kitchen. Did you do the renovations from what it originally was?"

"Yeah, I did a lot of research on the internet and at the library," replied Bucky. "Sam and several of his neighbours helped me demolish the old kitchen and we took out some walls, replacing them with overhead beams to increase the space. It's a small community but they're very welcoming. It's why I moved here."

"It feels right to be here," she said, as they sat down to eat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always," he replied.

"After the rescue, Sam told me you waited outside the antique store on the day of the Stark Expo. Why?"

"I almost ran after you at Walt Whitman Park when you walked away. I knew I had hurt you, but I was hurting as well. I had opened myself to you like no other woman. Instead, I went and got stinking drunk. After I sobered up a bit, my dad told me that bending to the one you love was part of being in a relationship and by Friday I was ready to bend. I put on my dress uniform, and I stood across the street watching you through the window. Kept telling myself that if you looked up, and our eyes met, I would cross the street, enter the store, and beg your forgiveness."

"But I didn't look up, did I?" asked Ariel. "I was trying to keep my mind busy and with Merton selling the store we had a lot of customers that kept me occupied." She put her hand on his. "If you had come in, I may have said to hell with it and married you. I would have thrown it all away for you, Bucky." She took a deep breath. "I would have told them all that HYDRA had you and that you had to be rescued. I wouldn't have left you there."

"They would have arrested you for interfering with the timeline."

She nodded and swallowed as it was true. Her doing that would be a crime equivalent to what Lowell Pierce Mason did. Standing up with her dishes she placed them in the sink and ran the water. Bucky brought his dishes over, placing them in the warm soapy water. He didn't move away from behind her, still knowing her so well that he knew what was coming. When she started to cry, he turned her around and held her.

"I'll never lose you again," he whispered. "No one ever measured up to you, Ariel. No one."

They didn't move from there for several minutes then almost as if they were speaking telepathically, they split apart and washed the dishes together, with Bucky drying them and putting them away.

Half an hour later they were on the road with Rosie in a cat carrier and Sam in the back seat. While they drove Sam looked on his phone for a short-term vacation rental with two bedrooms that allowed pets. He kept showing Ariel the places that came up until they agreed on the one to book. As they listened to music, Ariel asked questions about living in Delacroix. After a brief stop in the Florida panhandle, Sam took over driving for a while and Ariel laid down in the back seat to have a nap. When they pulled up to the rental place in Tampa, Bucky opened the door to the back seat and gently brushed Ariel's cheek.

"We're here," he said softly. "We'll get settled then Sam and I will pick some groceries up and get something for dinner."

Yawning, Ariel sat up and stretched, smiling self-consciously at Bucky before getting out of the truck. It was almost sunset and still quite warm outside, but the rental had air conditioning. The two men left to get some food while Ariel fed Rosie and set up a litter box for her. While she waited, she figured out the remote control to turn on the television. After browsing the listings, she picked a game show and watched in fascination as people tried to guess prices on everyday things to win a big prize. Then three contestants got to spin a wheel to determine who got to play the final pricing challenge. It was loud, brainless, and completely enthralling to her. When Bucky and Sam returned, she wanted to see who won so they sat with her, making their own guess on the final showcases. Both men's guesses were over the right prices but the one lady on the show guessed close enough to win both showcases and Ariel clapped at the obvious skill in guessing correctly.

"How do you get to be there to watch that in person?" she asked.

"You have to go to Los Angeles and line up outside the studio," said Sam. "Then they let so many people in and choose the ones who get called up to try and guess the prices. It's been on television for years. I remember watching it when I was home sick from school."

"They don't have anything like that in 2142," said Ariel. "They have game shows, but you have to have knowledge."

"Like Jeopardy?" asked Bucky. "I watch that."

"Yeah, I think I saw some old video of that," she replied. "It's similar but a lot harder. This one was so much more exciting."

After eating Ariel curled up on the sofa next to Bucky, watching more TV with them. It was a quiet evening that reminded Ariel of sitting in the parlour of the apartment above the antique store, except for watching the TV screen. Before they went to bed, they planned out the next day, deciding to leave Rosie at the rental while they made contact with Rebecca first.

The following day it only took them 20 minutes to drive to the senior's home. From the outside it looked like a pleasant place, with lots of trees on site. The pale-yellow exterior had many windows making it seem light and airy inside. They stopped at the reception desk, waiting patiently for their turn. When the receptionist saw Bucky and Sam her face lit up in recognition.

"Well, hello," she smiled. "My goodness. I wasn't expecting Captain America and Bucky Barnes to show up here. Is there someone you're looking for?"

"Yes, we would like to see Rebecca Proctor," said Bucky, smiling back. "I only just learned she lives here. She's my sister."

"You're serious," she said then her face changed again. "We always thought it was her imagination that made her say that."

"She spoke of me?" asked Bucky. "Why didn't you believe her?"

"Why don't I call an administrator, and someone can come down to speak to you before you go up," said the receptionist sympathetically.

They waited in the lobby for a few minutes then were approached by a pleasant looking woman in a suit. She gestured to them to sit.

"Could you provide proof that Mrs. Proctor is your sister?" she asked abruptly.

"She was born September 27, 1930, in Brooklyn, New York," said Bucky, not sure why she wouldn't accept him as Rebecca's brother. "The only daughter of George and Winnifred Barnes. I shipped out June 6, 1943, and never saw her again. I thought she was dead until a friend did some searching and located her here."

"When did you go missing?" she asked.

"I was taken as a POW in October of 1943, rescued by Steve Rogers, and was with the Howling Commandos until I fell from a train on February 1, 1945, a Thursday. I was declared dead at that time."

"Well, everything you've told me has been said by Mrs. Proctor, but I just don't know," she said, reluctantly. "There have been several attempts by scam artists to impersonate you and most of what you just said is in the public record. Do you have proof of who you are?"

With a sigh Bucky stood up and took his gloves off, then his Henley shirt, revealing a short-sleeved T-shirt underneath that exposed his vibranium arm. Going over to an empty sofa he picked it up with one hand, holding it over his head before gently putting it down on the ground.

"Is that proof enough that I am Bucky Barnes?" he asked.

"Isn't it true that elderly patients often remember their past better than their present?" asked Ariel. "Surely, she would recognize Bucky since he's only aged about ten years in appearance since the 1940s."

"I can vouch for his identity," said Sam. "You accept who I am, right? You can even accompany us to her room. The man just wants to see the sister he hasn't seen since 1943. She's his only family."

"I want to but access to her has been restricted by her children," said the woman. "They just want to protect her from people taking advantage of her desire to see you. Would you be willing to wait for one of her children? Her oldest does live in Tampa and has responsibility for Mrs. Proctor's welfare."

Bucky accepted the compromise and sat back on the chair after putting his Henley shirt back on. Ariel held his hand, feeling his frustration at being denied access to his sister. Knowing the reason for the delay was legitimate didn't stop making it feel like he was being compared to scam artists. While they waited, several residents recognized the two men, asking for selfies. Even as Bucky swallowed his pride, allowing the interaction with the other residents, Ariel could tell his heart wasn't in it. With Sam's support he got through the twenty-minute wait before an almost white-haired woman with bright blue eyes walked in, accompanied by a man in his forties, still dark-haired and also blue-eyed. Right away they came up to the four of them, with her standing in front of Bucky with a longing look on her face.

"It really is you, isn't it?" she said softly. "You're Bucky, James Buchanan Barnes, born March 10, 1917."

Bucky's eyes began to tear up. "I'm Rebecca's brother. I didn't even know she was still alive until two days ago. We came here as soon as we could, but they wouldn't let me see her."

She looked at Sam in acknowledgement then looked at Ariel, with confusion at first, then held her hand out to both of them.

"I'm Winnie Peterson, the oldest," she said. "This is my oldest son, Barry." She looked back at Ariel. "Are you Ariel Black? You are, aren't you? Ma had a painting of you, and you look exactly as you did in 1943, except your hair is different."

"Yes, I am," said Ariel carefully then looked around. "I'm not at liberty to say anything more in a public setting like this. Bucky really wants to see her. Can we do that then find somewhere more private?"

"Absolutely," smiled Winnie, then she looked at the administrator. "I'm satisfied that this man is my uncle, Bucky Barnes. He and his friends, Ariel Black, and Sam Wilson, are to be given access to Rebecca any time on my authority and confirmed by Barry."

The younger man nodded his approval and the administrator left to enter the information in the records. Taking Bucky and Ariel by their hands Winnie took them to the elevator. Barry pressed the button, smiling at everyone.

"How did Rebecca end up with a painting of Ariel?" asked Sam.

"When Steve Rogers joined the army everything he owned was stored with George and Winnifred Barnes, including a small painting of Ariel," said Winnie. "They kept it after he was declared dead. Then when he was found in 2011, he sought out Ma and told her to keep it safe. I think he was in love with you, Ariel, but he knew that you and Bucky were meant for each other."

"He never told me that he found Rebecca," said Bucky, a frown appearing on his forehead.

"I'm sorry about that," said Winnifred apologetically, as the doors opened, and they stepped inside. "When you were identified as the Winter Soldier, it really upset her. She reacted strongly to anyone who made disparaging remarks about you. They were ready to diagnose her with dementia because of how vehement she could be but she's sharp as a tack."

Bucky watched his niece's face as she described how passionate Rebecca could be in defending her big brother against his detractors. There was admiration but also distress at what his sister went through.

"So, you told him not to tell me?" he asked.

She nodded, then squeezed his hand. "You were in such bad shape, and everyone was looking for you to arrest you or worse. Then you needed to focus on yourself and get better when you were in Wakanda. Steve told us you disappeared in the Snap and then when you and the others returned there just wasn't time, I guess. We've wanted to reach out to you, but it just seemed to never be the right time, you know? The scammers started showing up while you were involved in the Flag Smashers, and I'm sorry, it was hard to know what to do but now that you're here it's obvious that you need to be with her, and I know she needs to be with you." The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. Winnie faced Bucky, looking up at him. "Please forgive us, Uncle Bucky. We only ever wanted to protect Ma."

A mass of emotions flew over his face as he looked at the elderly face of his oldest niece, her eyes just like her mother's. He swallowed and hugged her.

"No more secrets," he said firmly. "I want to be involved, not just with her care but with all of you. You're the only family I have."

"We promise," said Winnie. "How long are you staying here?"

He looked at Sam, who shrugged. "A few days at least, longer if I'm not called for a mission."

"Alright, we'll put out the call and get everyone here as quickly as we can," said Winnie. She looked down the hall. "Let's get you reunited with Ma." They approached the door and stood outside for a moment. "I think we should just do Uncle Bucky first, then gauge her reaction to him before springing Ariel and Captain America on her."

"There's a small lounge where we can wait," said Barry, gesturing with his hand. "Good luck, Mom."

Winnie took her uncle's hand and walked through the open door into a large suite, with a sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom. An elderly woman was bent over a table filled with plants, watering them. Leaving Bucky just inside the door Winnie went to the older woman.

"Ma?" she asked. "Ma, I brought someone to see you."

"No," muttered the other woman. "I don't want to. I'm busy."

"I think you'll want to see him," persisted Winnie. "Ma, he's here. Bucky is here."

Rebecca stopped and looked at her daughter. "You won't let him see me. You think he'll hurt me."

"No, Ma, that's not true. We were trying to protect both of you from con artists. It was wrong but Bucky is really here, look."

"Bucky, here?" she asked, then she looked back towards the door and saw him.

Bucky could feel his lips tremble at the sight of his sister searching his face. It had been only days for him since her younger self had called him by name at the Brooklyn grocer. For her it had been over 81 years.

"Hi Rebecca," he squeaked, then coughed to get his voice back to normal. "I'm finally back and I'll be here for you from now on."

"It was you," she replied. "You were there at the apple sale."

"I wasn't allowed to tell you," he said, "but you were right. I was there to keep you and Ariel safe. HYDRA was trying to hurt you and I was sent from this time to the past to protect you both. You were so smart to recognize me."

In the moments it took to say those few sentences Bucky strode to his sister until he towered over her, then gently touched her hair and cheek before wrapping her in his arms, both of them crying over the lost years. Winnie beamed at both of them, wiping away her own tears of joy at this reunion.

"Why didn't you come before?" asked Rebecca when they finally pulled apart. "I waited and I waited."

"I didn't know you were still alive," said Bucky. "Steve didn't tell me. It was probably safer for you. I wasn't myself for a long time."

"You would never hurt me," replied his sister. "The other man with you at the fireworks. Who was he?"

"He's here," answered Bucky. "Along with someone else. Winnie, would you go get them?"

Gently he guided Rebecca to the sofa in the sitting room, sitting with her and holding her hand. They didn't speak; instead, they just gazed at each other. Winnie returned with Sam, and he slowly approached Rebecca before kneeling before her and offering her his hand.

"Winnie said you asked about me. I'm Sam Wilson, Captain America. That was me with Bucky at the baseball diamond and the World's Fair."

"You weren't at the store," she stated, frowning slightly.

"I worked at the fishmonger's next door but I got hurt," he answered. "I was beaten up badly and had to come back to a future time to get better."

"You're okay now?" she asked. "You and Bucky are partners, right?"

"We are." He laughed at Bucky rolling his eyes. "Your brother says we're just co-workers, but we're partners and best friends. I trust him with my life."

Rebecca grinned and pushed Bucky's arm playfully. "Still a tough guy." She looked past Sam. "You said there was someone else."

"We weren't the only people from the future in 1940," said Bucky. "Some other people from even further in the future were there to keep an eye on things and make sure they weren't changed by HYDRA. They were just supposed to watch and report but sometimes they fell in love with people from that time. It happened to me, Rebecca. She fell in love with me."

Ariel walked in and approached Rebecca before kneeling before her, beside Sam.

"Ariel? You're from the future?" asked Rebecca, recognizing her.

"I am," she replied. "I was born in 2119 and was sent back to watch Bucky. When I fell in love with him, I wanted to stay and marry him, but I wasn't allowed to then. It would have changed the future of the world."

"You broke his heart," stated Rebecca. "It broke yours, too."

"It did. I almost wanted to die. But HYDRA wanted to take me away. This Bucky and Sam kept both of us safe from them doing that."

"Is that how you found each other again?" asked Rebecca, looking between Bucky and Ariel. "You are together again, right?"

"They brought Bucky to 2142 because I wasn't doing well," said Ariel. "He told me he still loved me but I didn't believe him. Other things happened and then I realized I still loved him, too."

"She's staying with me in 2024 and we're going to get married," said Bucky. "I knew when I first saw her in 1940, she was the one for me and she still is."

Rebecca smiled and looked at her daughter. "Winnie, in my safe deposit box at the bank, there are two small boxes."

"I know the ones you mean," she said. "Are they ...?"

"All these years I've kept them, hoping that somehow they would find each other again," said the older woman. "You haven't sold them?

"No, Ma, they're in the bank," she smiled. "I'll go get them right now. Barry, let's leave them to catch up."

While the two were gone Rebecca wouldn't answer any questions about the two small boxes, although Bucky had his suspicions. They talked about the fireworks and Bucky told her how there were two men there who were supposed to kidnap Ariel. Then he told Rebecca about how afraid he was when the men at the World's Fair took her instead of Ariel.

"Didn't they know who they were supposed to take?" she asked. "They couldn't have been very smart."

"They weren't," replied Bucky. "They were locals, easily convinced to break the law."

"I was so angry at you two when you broke up," said Rebecca. "I wanted you to get married, have kids, and be happy." She looked away for a moment. "Ma and Dad were so sad when we heard you were killed. Ma didn't go to church for over a year. Said she couldn't believe in a God who took you away from her."

"It was better they believed I was dead," said Bucky. "What HYDRA did to me was terrible and it took me so long to get away."

"Why didn't anyone look for you?"

"They all thought I was dead. Steve saw me fall and couldn't believe I survived. No one did."

"I always thought you were alive," she declared. Tears filled her eyes as her lips trembled. "It was hard holding on to that. I couldn't even say anything about you at the store as that man who looked like Mr. Burnett said I had to keep it a secret."

"Andrew Smith came to see you?" asked Bucky. He looked at Ariel. "He came to 1940 with us, but he looked younger. Merton Burnett is actually Ariel's father."

"He is?" asked Rebecca. "Ma and Dad knew he was gay, but he was a good friend to you and Steve. Did he use a surrogate or something?"

"Your ma said they knew he was gay," confirmed Ariel. "He helped his friend have me through IVF then when I became a historian, he was my first supervisor. I didn't know he was my father until I got back to my future. Looking back, it was kind of obvious he loved me. He helped me through so much."

"When are you getting married?" asked Rebecca, looking from her brother to Ariel and back. "Do you think you would do it here, in Florida? I'm not strong enough to travel."

Sam pulled out his phone and looked something up. "You can get a licence, take a quick marriage course and have the ceremony a day later," he answered. "They got you valid identification, right?"

Ariel nodded and patted her small purse. "It's all in here. Could we do it on the beach? Rebecca, are you strong enough to be my matron of honour for a beach wedding?"

A small giggle escaped the elderly woman's mouth and she beamed at both of them, saying nothing more about a wedding until her daughter Winnie arrived with the two small boxes, one square and one heart-shaped. With her mother's permission Winnie gave them both to Bucky and he smiled when he opened them, his suspicions confirmed.

"You kept them," he said. "Why?"

"Hope," answered his sister. "You and Ariel loved each other so much that I kept hoping that somehow you would be together. You were older when I saw you those times in 1940 so I had to believe that you made it out of the war somehow. Even though it didn't make sense when we got the telegram about your death, I still had hope that you were alive somewhere. Ma and Dad didn't want to sell them either, because they belonged to you."

Bucky took the engagement ring out of the heart-shaped box and looked softly at Ariel.

"Would you marry me, Ariel?" he asked. "Would you accept me now, after all we've been through?"

"Yes, I'll marry you," she smiled, holding her hand towards his.

He placed the ring on her ring finger, then stood up with her, kissing her in front of everyone. They both decided to accept Rebecca's suggestion to get married in Tampa, taking several days to arrange it, starting with a quick trip to the clerk's office to apply for the licence then finding someone to perform the ceremony. As the rest of Rebecca's children and grandchildren arrived, eager to meet Bucky, the ones that lived in Tampa called in some favours so that there were flowers, a cake, and a place to hold a party rather than a reception. Will Greene was called to contact Merton. He made the long drive with Ariel's father and also brought Sam's girlfriend, Jasmine, and Sarah Wilson and the boys, to Sam's consternation. The first thing Sarah did was corner both Sam and Bucky, demanding to know the truth about Ariel. When the two women met, they became friends within the hour. Merton, when he arrived, had a very pleasant reunion with Rebecca, after assuring her that his current appearance was correct.

The wedding itself was very informal, with the ceremony held just before sunset. Rebecca stood up for Ariel, while Sam did the same for Bucky. After they were announced as husband and wife the couple took their shoes off and walked into the water, remembering when they did it at the beach on their first date, back in 1940. At the party, the music was a mixture of old and new, with their first dance as a married couple made to the Ella Fitzgerald version of The Man I Love. Bucky danced with all of his female relatives, even the younger ones, when they saw how well he took care of Rebecca on the dance floor. Will, always willing to dance, also spread himself around, although Sarah seemed to be his favourite partner.

At one point, Bucky couldn't find his sister or Ariel and had to ask around, finding them outside on the terrace of the facility they were in. The two women were deep in conversation, while they held hands. He listened for some time before he interrupted them.

"You still going to work in a library?" asked Rebecca.

"That's my plan," replied Ariel. "But we also want to start a family. I'm still only 26 but I know he always wanted kids."

"Not until you," smirked his sister. "You know he had quite the reputation. No steady girlfriend before you. I don't know how many girls kept asking me how to get him to commit. I was a kid, for crying out loud. I didn't know. But you never did. I wanted you for my sister right from the moment I met you."

"I liked you, too," said Ariel. "Remember how we giggled under the towels when we tried to get warm at the beach? I never had any siblings, but I would have loved for you to be my little sister."

The two women embraced and Bucky stood in the dark, smiling at the bond that was still there so many years later. They were quiet for a moment and Bucky was just about to make his presence known when Rebecca said something else.

"I don't have long," she said quietly. "I have terminal cancer. Ma had it as well, a type of ovarian cancer. I've done pretty well managing it considering my age but I do regret that I didn't see Bucky sooner. You'll help him grieve when I go?"

"I will," promised Ariel. "I'm sorry you were apart for so long."

"So am I," said Rebecca, "but it can't be changed. I'm just glad I got to see Bucky marry you. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll still be around for your first child. Just promise me that you'll love him with all of your heart. He lost so much when he fell and was kept by those criminals. It wasn't fair as he was one of the best men I ever knew."

"I promise," swore Ariel. "I do love him with all of my heart, Rebecca and that will never change."

Bucky coughed then as if he was just walking outside. Both women shifted to see him, taking his hand as he helped them up. Then he hugged them both, kissing them on top of the head before he put his arms around them and took them back inside, never once indicating he heard their conversation. He could have been upset at Rebecca's revelation, especially after Winnie promised no more secrets, but he chose not to be. Some things were just that way and he refused to let the lost years take away from the fact that he had just married his only love and had reunited with his sister, after believing she was already dead. Love was going to guide him from now on, and he was going to make every moment count for these two important women in his life. He owed them and himself that much.

The End

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[deluxewhump]

Ingrid calls Carlo a pet name

CW: mention of nausea and headache (Ingrid is pregnant with Jack here). The movies are The Two Towers and ROtK btw ;)

It was barely noon, and Ingrid lay in the master bedroom with a cloth over her forehead. It had long since stopped being cool, and was now only damp instead of wet. She moved it an inch so it touched her hairline and the air cooled the wet skin it exposed.

Thick green curtains were drawn against the heat and light of midday. Insects trilled in the grass outside and she could hear a dog barking distantly— a neighbor of theirs habitually let his two yellow labs run loose around the wooded hills and they sometimes wandered onto Max’s property. Carlo worried about his cat, Lou, who would hiss if he saw them from the window and climb into his master’s arms flicking his tail.

Max told him Lou was too smart to ever get anywhere near those dogs. He was more worried about coyotes than the labradors, he’d said. Carlo had bent his head to press his mouth into Lou’s black fur, frowning at the mention of the coyotes. Sometimes they screamed at night from the tree line, sounding for a moment like human shrieks and then like the mad baying of a dozen wild dogs.

As if summoned by her wandering thoughts, Lou jumped on the bed, stretching his back and chirping in question. Ingrid held out a hand and felt the brush of whiskers on her palm. For half a second, she thought it was Max that appeared in the doorway. But Max was in D.C. all day at a conference. It was Carlo.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you want me to grab him? The door was cracked. He pushed it open.”

“No,” Ingrid answered as serenely as she could manage. “He’s good company.”

“Do you… need anything?”

She almost told him no, but thought of something. “Could you get me a ginger ale? They’re the little mini cans, on the door, bottom shelf.”

“Yeah,” he said, like he was surprised but pleased she’d said yes. Max was always asking Carlo things like that. It’s cold, you need socks? Want a blanket? I’m getting a drink, can I get you something, baby? She’d never loved someone by proxy before, but that’s how it was with him. It was Max’s steadfast love for him that instructed her, like slowly picking up bits of an accent. One day she saw him curled up in an armchair, head bent over a book, running his finger absently over his lower lip. Softly, like a gradual summer dusk, she realized she now loved him too.

Lou curled up a short distance from her and began to purr. Carlo returned with a can of cold ginger ale and popped open the tab before handing it to her, another of Max’s mannerisms. “You’re sweet,” she told him, taking a long drink and set it on the nightstand.

“God,” she complained, and lay back on her side. “I feel like a truck hit me.”

“How long will that last?” asked Carlo softly, conscious of her aching head.

“Oh, another couple of weeks maybe. What’re you doing today?”

He shrugged.

“I’m gonna put on a movie, if you want to wallow with me.”

He gave her a little smile and agreed, climbing onto Max’s side of the bed and curling up on his side in a mirror of her own position. Lou got up to reposition next to Carlo’s chest, and Carlo draped his arm over him. Ingrid clicked the TV on with the remote and tucked her knees closer to her chest.

By the end of the film, Lou had left them but Carlo had gotten under the top blanket and tilted his head close to her so she could not help but lay her hand in his soft hair, grazing her fingertips over his scalp. The sun had begun to descend from its zenith, evident by the angle and color of the light that persisted through the seams of the pulled curtains.

“Do you want to watch the next one, baby?” she whispered when the credits rolled, wondering if he might be asleep.

He moved an inch closer to her and nodded. She let her hand drift back to his hair. She’d never called him that before. It was Max’s favorite pet name for him, and she didn’t know if she was allowed. It seemed strange, having come from her lips and not from Max’s, but he did not give any indication there was anything amiss. She pulled her nails gently up the warm base of his neck and into his hair, over and over, to the rhythm of the oscillating fan.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Sympathy For Wolves: Werewolf!Blackwatch!Cole Cassidy x Fem!Reader

Chapter 9: The Pain

"The ancients thought pure metals purified the blood." ~ Ginger Snaps

A terrified, wavering scream pierced through the eerily silent woods. Feminine hands wildly snatched at whatever foliage lied before her, swatting a way through the branches and lifted roots, doing her absolute best to not become entombed by such nature and fall behind. Even over the trilling of her heartbeat in her ear, she could still hear it behind her. Was it even still behind her? Her eyes shot in every direction, following intently with every branch snapping and squelching of mud whether it was hers or the beast’s. It came from all around her, surrounding her, damning her to this horrifying hell as she was left in the middle of these forsaken woods cold, soaking wet, and all alone while sporting some nasty injuries.

She kept pushing forward, urged on by nothing more than pure adrenaline at this point. Her palms were numb from grabbing at branches, her fingernails were all chipped and scratched up, dirt muddied her hands and burned at the cuts in her skin. She wasn’t able to move much more out of her way, the pain in her left bicep was becoming too great, throbbing and pulsing the faster her heart thrashed against her ribcage that was starting to feel all too tight now. She was openly bleeding, a deep trio of gashes tore their way through her bicep and destroyed the sleeve of her issued uniform coat, the once proud blue was now a murky purple, blood seeping into the expensive fibers the more she bled out.

The pain was starting to become more present. Her vision was starting to sway and become blurry as she tried to blink away the tears. Her left arm was becoming too heavy to keep up, weakly grasping at branches only to meekly push them away, barely doing anything to get them to move. She was injured elsewhere, too. She was sporting a nasty cut on her right calf, a light gash barely missing her ankle and instead dug right into the back of her leg. She was hobbling now, no longer sprinting as the beast had finally tired the agent out. Her back was also lit ablaze. She couldn’t judge the damage, but she could feel the open wounds torn into her from how the blood dribbled down her back and coattails. She was losing too much blood too fast.

Even as her body tried to shut down, she could still hear it somewhere around her; Snuffling and purring in the darkness, prowling around, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She wasn’t going to give it the satisfaction.

She didn’t know where the relay point was having lost both her compass and communicator when she was jumped by the beast about a mile back, her gun and knife holsters had also been torn from her person which left her with only one pitiful little boot knife to defend herself from a towering monster. She’d never seen anything like it before, it was like something from a horror movie had crawled right off of the silver screen and right into the labyrinth of woods that encased her, drowning her.

She didn’t get a good look at it at first, only catching a glimpse of two yellow eyes cutting through the dark before it pounced on her, nearly overpowering her had it not for have been for the towering trees with tangling roots and branches to halt the thing in its place. She had fallen out of the beast’s clutches onto her back, having to scoot away on her hands and ass, staring up at the thing with wide eyes and her mouth agape as she ignored her wounds at first. It was big, bigger than anyone she’s ever encountered before. It was hairy all over with these big hands that could easily take her out should it so please. A snout carved through the darkness, a long tongue lolling out as its mouthful of fangs glistened in the night. As she scooted back, managing to make it to her feet, she couldn’t help but feel something utterly familiar about the monster before she turned and ran.

She caught glimpses of its eyes here and there, mostly from looking over her shoulder to the void swallowing the foliage behind her. She could smell its rancid breath, gag on the stench of wet dog as it chased her relentlessly.

Something suddenly caught her by the uninjured ankle and cut her off from her hobbling. Her chest smacked the ground first, knocking whatever air out of her and forcing a pathetic wheeze from her lips when she tried to scream. Her jaw ached from where she landed, sore, a shocking pain from the left side of her face where she most definitely dislocated it. Her trembling hands snatched up the muddy grass and roots and tried to push herself up, only managing to have enough strength to prop herself up on her elbows as she weakly looked around. Panting, swallowing thickly, she could taste the blood that started to bite at the back of her tongue as she wildly looked around at the trees for the beast. When she didn’t hear the damned monster, she instead swung her body around as best as she could to her tangled up ankle, biting back the pained scream as her entire body protested. Through the darkness, she could truly see how fucked up her ankle was; Completely twisting in a different direction, boot resting uncomfortably, squeezing tight around her foot and calf as her body did its absolute best to resupply itself with adrenaline.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling over the towering trees and echoing through the woods. A brief flash of distant lightning did so little to light up anything down here- but it did catch something. Her eyes were pinned on one specific group of trees where she had seen it just seconds ago.

It was here.

It was stalking her.

There was no need to keep chasing prey that could no longer run.

She could hear it chuff somewhere around her, almost like it was taunting her for breaking her ankle, belittling her for getting caught. She followed the sounds it made; Stomping through the foliage, branches snapping under its heavy weight, mud sloshing, yet she never caught another glance at it.

Though her heart was trilling in her ears and her body was becoming heavy, fury overpowered her senses. Gritting her teeth, she yanked the boot knife from its strappings on her broken ankle and flipped it open just as the rain started to settle in. She held it out defiantly, her tears mixed with the fat rain droplets that soon soaked her person.

“Come on, you fucker!” she screamed. 

The two yellow eyes appeared through the darkness, gleaming at her, towering over her despite being yards away. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be toyed with, to be food for the beast to play with. She didn’t dare sit up more, opting to just hold the knife with both hands and jut it towards the beast.

Another flash of lightning graced her with an actual view of the beast- smashing the wall of false confidence to pieces when she saw it: As clear as day, a monster- a werewolf - bigger than Reinhardt yet wearing the opposite uniform colors as her.

Barely clinging onto thick dark brown fur was a torn uniform of a Blackwatch soldier.

Cole rubbed his eyes roughly, pinching at his bridge while his temples flared with aching pain. He pulled away with an inhale, not fully opening his eyes as the stark and sterile white of Angela’s office combined with the fluorescent lights burned at his retinas. It wasn’t just how bright everything was, it was also the smell. He almost debated on getting up and leaving the second Angela had him hop up on the examination chair. Everything reeked of bleach and various medicinal cleaners; With a doctor as clean of a freak as Angela, it didn’t surprise anyone if they would walk in to see her scrubbing something down with a toothbrush if they had walked in unexpectedly. He winced when he shifted- not because he was in any pain, but from the noise the waxy paper made underneath him when he moved. It was like nails on a chalkboard, making his ears shriek and ache from such a minor movement.

He woke up not too long ago from yet another horrible nightmare, having barely getting maybe four hours of sleep. It had been the norm for the entirety of the past three weeks since he had woken up. Today, it was maybe half past seven o’clock in the evening when he was brutally woken up.

But this time, something was off.

It was like walking into your home, a home you’ve lived in for so long and knew where exactly everything is- and someone had come and shifted everything ever so slightly. He was knocked off kilter, disoriented, head full of fog and cotton while he had an undeniable feeling that something was horribly wrong. When he sat up in bed, it felt like there was a heavy weight on his chest yet he felt absolutely weightless. Through the darkness of the blackout curtains he had drawn, he could make out where everything is in his room despite always stumbling and tripping over every little thing when there were no lights on.

He was thanking his lucky stars when Angela finally got back to him about medical advice, the good doctor finally managing to get a break in all of the chaos to finally sit down with him and try to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him without Moira being around.

He was completely lost in thought, staring down at his boots firmly planted on the short stair before the examination chair, when Angela knocked sharply three times. Cole winced at the noise, sucking at his teeth for a brief second as the Swiss doctor asked if she could come in. The door slid open to reveal the blonde holding a neat stack of folders and notepads in one hand while the other sported a beige coffee mug nearly filled to the brim and steaming.

“How are we feeling today?” she beamed as she set down her supplies at her little desk by the door.

“Not too great, doc,” Cole muttered as his knee started to bounce unconsciously.

Angela frowned at the statement and quickly opened up her holopad and scrolled through Cole’s files.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you since you were discharged almost one month ago.” Cole didn’t respond, knowing that she was a busy woman and there was not much he could do to help. Angela took the pen that rested on her ear and clicked it, placing the head to her notepad and looked right Cole. “Tell me, what are you currently experiencing?”

He hesitated for a moment. Does he tell her the truth? The full truth? The nightmares about monsters? Turning into one? Nightmares where you’re involved in gruesome ways? Or his eyes? The claws? His teeth? The recurring bouts of rage or the mind-altering lust?

“I, uh- I’m havin’ nightmares, can’t sleep too long. Haven’t slept much since.” Angela started scribbling. “And I think I’m hallucinatin’ because of it.”

“With what you went through, it’s very common to have post-traumatic stress. I’ll refer to one of the therapists after this.” She made a note on the side and then looked at him. “Would you like to tell me what you’re having nightmares about?”

Cole swallowed thickly, hands gripping the edge of the examination table to the point the leather creaked. He can’t be honest with her. Can he? She is a doctor, after all. But whatever she writes down, she may have to report it to Morrison and Reyes if it’s bad enough.

“That thing that used me as a chew toy- Did ya’ll ever find out what that thing was?” he changed the topic.

“Not really. Some Overwatch ground troops recovered files about experimentations, most of them having passed quickly. The one that didn’t, it just… cuts off. It was the same day it all happened.” That didn’t do much to quell the anxiety viciously bubbling in his gut right now. “I’ve seen the photographs recovered as well-” Angela looked horribly uncomfortable, “-and I can’t quite come to understand it myself. It looked… supernatural. It was almost as if Talon was engineering monsters.” Angela cleared her throat as looked back at Cole. “Now, your nightmares. Anything in particular?”

“Mostly about that thing chasin’ me, chasin’ (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)? How is she taking to this? I know she’s been at your side as much as she can be.”

“She’s worried. Terrified, probably.”

“Of what happened to you?”

“Of me.” Angela’s writing cut off quickly. He gripped the leather tight enough to make his knuckles go white. “Ang, you gotta help me. I don’ know what’s happenin’ to me and it’s eatin’ me alive.” He made eye contact with the doctor for the first time since her coming in. “It’s- It’s more than nightmares and not sleepin’. I’m gettin’ violent, nearly tore into Reyes my first day back! I’m hallucinating things happenin’ to me in mirrors and shit. I’m smellin’ all types of shit I shouldn’ be, hearin’ shit when I shouldn’. I’m exhausted! I’m starvin’ all the damn time! I’ve been cravin’ raw meat and shit.” Angela wore a horrified look on her face. “I’m fuckin’ terrified of what’s happenin’ to me, and fuckin’ Moira’s been no goddamn help at all!”

Angela stared blankly off into the distance before turning to her holopad. She scrolled through and typed quickly before seemingly finding what she was looking for. She had a look on her face like it was dawning on her that her husband cheated on her for years, the slow realization that what she thought all this time was actually a lie.

“She pulled blood from you?”

“Yeah- What? Did she find somethin’ and not say shit?”

“She’s been using it in all of these random tests that make no sense.” Her crystal blue eyes scanned the notes and results before she tensed up. “Do you know if she took samples while you all were there? Anything from the labs?”

“We got split up, I don’ know. Why?”

“Because according to this, she’s been testing your blood to see if it matches up with a sample from there.”

“And?”

“It’s a near match in some areas.”

It felt as though he had been sentenced to hang by high noon, like a bullet had shot through his chest, as though he had been plunged in polar waters. A complete shock went all throughout his body, halting everything; even his blood, he swore. All he could feel was the thumping of his heart- not the sound, but the feel - knocking away against his entire chest. Everything that was racing in his mind, going millions of miles an hour, had come to a screeching halt.

He felt like he was going to fucking vomit.

“What does that mean?”

He went back to staring at the floor, hyper-fixated on the pale gray grout surrounding the sterile white tiles, specifically the intersection right under where Angela had been bouncing her leg on. Dread completely blanketed over him. It was like he was being told he had an incurable disease- Hell, that’s really what’s going on here. He was infected, had been this entire time. Whatever that monster spread to him has been changing him ever since he woke up from that damn coma.

“I- I don’t know, Cole.” She tilted the screen of her holopad and hesitantly looked at him before glancing back at her notes. “I’ll find the answers, I’ll confront her if I have to.”

“And what if she doesn’t tell you what’s wrong with me?”

He could feel the anger start to boil inside of him, flooding his senses all so suddenly, clouding his judgment. He could feel his nails start to sink into the leather, feel the ache in his fingertips as those wretched claws spread from his nailbeds. He heard her swallow as she adjusted her glasses, pushing the thick black frames up the bridge of her nose.

“Then I’ll run my own tests, if you’ll let me.”

Something about that really pushed his buttons. He knew deep down that she was doing her absolute best to help him, but something just felt horribly wrong. Running her own tests on him? What was he- some kind of lab rat? Her own little experiment? What would happen to him if it all really did come back that he was going to become that thing? Like the one from his nightmares? Lock him in a cell? Chain him up like some kind of wild animal? Experiment on him until something finally snaps and he does what that beast did a month ago?

He kept his mouth shut, he knew he had to. He bit his tongue a little too hard on sharp teeth. A copper taste ran bitterly through his mouth and down the back of his tongue as his jaw tensed.

Before either of the two could say anything more, Cole’s communicator chirped to life. It startled him, the high-pitched clicks shocked him out of his simmering thoughts and actually made him flinch. Was it always this loud? Glancing at Angela, she wasn’t wincing at the sound like he was, instead, occupying herself with writing down notes and glancing back at her holopad. Fishing the damn thing from his belt, it kept chirping in his ears like church bells until he brought up the screen, silencing the alert.

‘Private Training Room - G. ~ Reyes.’

Pinned to the message was also Shimada, but not Moira. He couldn’t judge if that was a good thing or not as he slid off of the examination chair.

“I gotta go, Ang,” Cole muttered, unsure of how to end this very awkward and terrifying conversation.

Angela took a moment to think over her words before she nodded, watching as Cole stalked past her.

Just as he waved his hand over the sensor to open the door, it had slid open from the other side to reveal Moira. She looked a bit shocked to see Cole standing before her, but she quickly fixed her face to once again appear impassive. In her arms held stacks of folders - some messy and some neatly organized - as well as a few books and some long sheets of paper with what looked to be test results. He caught sight of some small, thin tubes held in her hand; but he couldn’t make out what was inside of them. His blood, if he had to make a guess, most likely congealed or frozen for Angela to test.

“Cassidy,” she hissed.

He had no means to greet her back. Sensing the tension, she stepped aside just enough for Cole to squeeze by. He didn’t make an effort to say goodbye, just keeping his eyes pinned to the end of the hallways as he started for the private training rooms. He could feel their eyes on him, watching intently as he marched away from them. But despite being a good few dozen yards down the hall, he could hear Moira and Angela give sarcastic greetings to one another.

“We need to talk about Cassidy,” he heard Moira state coldly before the door slid shut.

It made his steps falter a bit, Cole having to come to a complete stop only to start back up. Hopefully, Reyes knew something.

He wasn’t expecting you to be there, so imagine his surprise when he opened the door to the last private training room specifically reserved for Blackwatch members to see you and Genji standing there talking with Reyes patiently waiting propped up by the door. As Cole passed into the room, Reyes shot him a look of unknown emotion, most likely faltering on worry. Genji wore his usual cold and closed-off demeanor while you looked to be an absolute bundle of nerves.

This was the first time seeing you in a couple of days with you having to join along on a short transport trip to the Overwatch base in Maine. No doubt that made his sleeping habits even worse. You looked as though you hadn’t slept since you left, the skin under your eyes was dark and your uniform was all wrinkled and your hair was a bit disheveled. Something deep inside of him thought that maybe you knew what was wrong with him, that you were told before he was, that you all were told what the absolute fuck was wrong with him.

“How’re you feeling?” Reyes was the first to break the silence. “Saw you put in an excuse to see Angela. Things looking okay?”

“Don’t know, had to come here.”

Reyes looked away for a moment, an uneasy expression painting over his face. He looked horribly uncomfortable as Genji shot a questioning look at their commander.

“I got back an hour ago. You weren’t in your room,” you piped up. “Genji passed me by and told me that you three were meeting in here.”

Genji looked between the three of you suspiciously, squinting and probably sneering beneath his faceplate. He had no fucking clue what was going on here and probably thought this was supposed to be some sort of training.

It actually looked to be that too. The mats were splayed out on the floor and anchored in, Reyes had a stopwatch next to him hanging up against the wall along with his trusty clipboard. What’s stopping them all from sparring? Surely not you. Right?

The four of you stood there in tense silence for another moment before Reyes cleared his throat. Before he could actually open his mouth, the sliding of the door once again interrupted what was going on. But instead of Moira being the cause, it was Morrison. He wore a stern face, brow low and his lips pulled into a tight frown. Behind him were a few Overwatch soldiers, each wearing the same facial expression as their own strike commander. Morrison stepped inside and looked directly at Cole, boring holes in his soul before quickly glaring at Reyes.

“I need to speak with you,” he spared a glance at the three of you, somewhat softening his gaze when he saw you standing behind Cole at this point, “alone, Reyes.”

Reyes gave Morrison a curt nod before following him out of the private training room before the door quickly slammed shut behind him. Cole was about to try and listen in when he felt your hand barely graze his forearm. Genji had taken up to stand against the wall, leaning with his arms crossed, staring at the floor to avoid listening to you two speak.

Cole turned to face you, his heart and stomach twisting inside of him from the look on your face alone. You looked so worried and so fucking terrified of the entire situation in general, and you were no doubt fed up with everything that’s been going on.

“How are you feeling? You look so tired, Cass,” you murmured up to him. You brought a hand up to his cheek, his thick stubble scratching at your palm and fingers. Your thumb gently caressed along his cheekbone. Your hand was surprisingly cold to the touch, Cole found himself sinking into your hand just a bit, eyes fluttering at the feeling. Your touch sparked something in him, woke something up deep inside of him, suddenly letting him know that he was actually feeling really warm all of a sudden. “You feel really warm, Cole.”

You brought your other hand up to rest along his forehead, taking his temperature. He was blazing hot under your touch, even pushing up his hair to feel even higher. The heat that was rolling off of him in waves was sickening.

“I missed ya, pumpkin,” he crooned. “Could hardly sleep without ya.”

He looked so fucking tired. He had dark circles around his eyes and he seemed very ill. His usual warm and bright honey-brown eyes looked so dull and so very exhausted.

“You sure you’re not coming down with something, cowboy? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m as fit as a fiddle, darlin’. Just needed you by my side again.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but something was nagging at you inside and you couldn’t help but trust your gut. You both glanced at the door when Reyes and Morrison started to argue, neither one of you were able to make out what it could be about this time.

All you and Genji could hear were muffled arguments, but all Cassidy could hear was garbled nonsense as a low monotone ringing sounded in the back of his head.

The tone slowly grew louder and louder, pitching higher and higher until it was all so suddenly blinding to him, blocking out every other sound known to his existence. His skull throbbed, temples feeling like they were about to explode as Cole could only holler in pain and grab at his head. His knees nearly crumbled, almost falling to the floor had you not been there to catch him. He clung to you, hands grabbing at your blue and white coat and pulling so tightly the seams all nearly snapped. You couldn’t keep his weight up for long, both of you slowly going down until you both were on the floor, Genji quickly coming to his other side for aid. As much as the cyborg denies everything, he really does care for Cassidy as he was the only one to not treat him like some sort of threat but almost like a brother.

“What’s wrong?” you called out to Cole, gripping one of his burly shoulders. “Is- Is it a migraine? What-”

The doors to the training room slid open, Reyes and Morrison fumbling in, eyes wide in shock.

“What happened?” Reyes barked.

He went to come to Cole’s aid when Morrison seized him by the bicep, pulling him back. The Blackwatch commander reeled back and was about to snap when Morrison beat him to it.

“It’s too late, Reyes! The sun’s gone down, it’s already starting.”

The other Overwatch agents filed in quickly, waiting for Morrison’s order like the good little drones they were ordered to be. You’ve only seen those few just a couple of times, and just from the stories alone, you knew something was horribly wrong.

“What’s starting?” you grit your teeth.

That horrible feeling was back; The pain in his chest like he had been shot right in the heart. It was freezing and boiling at the same time. He felt both heavy and light. He could barely breathe, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as something inside of him felt like it popped. A thin sheen of cold sweat took over his body, making his clothes cling tightly to his brawny body as his hearty tan became pallid.

“He’s turning.” Cole finally was able to let out a short bellow of pain as something thick and heavy crackled from within him. Morrison looked over the other Overwatch soldiers and nodded to you three on the mat. “Get him. Take him downstairs to Cellblock D.”

“You’re not moving him until you tell me what the hell is going on!” you shouted back.

“Step away from him, (Y/n). That’s an order!”

The soldiers advanced towards you, but you didn’t get up. One withdrew the thickest pair of handcuffs you’ve ever seen since working here, they were a special pair made up of silver and circuits. They were apparently used in only certain occasions.

“Not until you tell me what’s happening.” You glared over at Reyes who was standing by the doorway still, a look of guilt and horror painted on his scarred face. “Reyes!”

Reyes looked so remorseful towards you, bushy eyebrows pinched in worry. You’ve never seen him like this, never seen him back down from Morrison so easily and especially without a fight.

“Get away from him, (Y/n),” he ordered gently.

When you didn’t move out of shock that Reyes finally agreed with Morrison on, the Blackwatch commander nodded his head towards you. Genji suddenly took and pulled you away, locking your arms behind your back when you struggled against him and tried to break loose.

“Genji, what are you doing?” you spat at him.

Cole let out another cry of pain, hunching in on himself as he took two big handfuls of the mat and tore into them like they were paper. He was quickly swarmed by the Overwatch soldiers as you both watched horrified. Cole suddenly seized up and tried to fight back but was quickly outnumbered and outmatched, being wrestled back to the ground, forcing his hands behind his back and cuffing him like he was a criminal. Except, when the handcuffs tightened, Cole hollered in pain as though he was being burned- And from what you could see, it really did appear that the handcuffs were burning his wrists. The skin around them became red and agitated, his hands twitching and seizing, fingers curling and his veins bulged from the pain. They yanked him up and surrounded him, the one that took his place behind Cole seized by the collar of his Blackwatch uniform and they all marched, Morrison quickly leading them out of the training room.

Genji quickly released you when they were starting down the hall and you tried to catch up only for Reyes to catch you in a bear hug. You cried out, calling for Cole, screaming at Morrison, cursing the day Reyes was born and ordering him to let you go.

“(Y/n)!” he barked, locking you against him just as Genji had done just a minute ago. “You can’t stop this!”

You somehow managed to worm your way out of his grasp and stumbled, catching yourself on the wall. You shot a nasty look back at Reyes, panting like a wild animal and wiped away the hair that clung to your sweaty face. Tears had started to trickle down your cheeks and you didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

“What’s Morrison gonna do to him? Why Cellblock D?”

“(Y/n)-”

“What the fuck has been going on? Ever since he came back barely alive it’s been all fucking secrets!”

“If you would just-”

“You told me! You told me you’d tell me. That I would be the first to know! What the hell is happening to Cole?!”

Reyes had grabbed you again, this time by your shoulders, fingers digging in uncomfortably.

“Cassidy is a werewolf!” he barked in your face.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I woke up with a sore throat and sneezing.

If you feel up to it, how would one of the healthcare AU boys handle waking up sick?

Legend knew it was going to be a pin when he woke up feeling congested. His stomach clenched uneasily, not quite nauseous but definitely not comfortable. His head pounded, his throat ached, and he was already over this.

I swear, if this is War’ head cold I’m gonna clobber him.

For a second, he felt relief - he could call out from work since he was sick! - and then he remembered that he worked in healthcare, that nobody cared if he was sick, that this was just a head cold and he would have to suck it up and deal with it.

He remembered Wind one time wishing everyone got sick so they would get a break, and Time had said what they’d all been thinking: “No, then we’d just be working and miserable.”

Trilling out a breath through his lips, he dragged himself out of bed. Some cold medicine would hold him over. He hopefully put a hand to the back of his head, feeling a little warm, but even a fever wouldn’t stop him from getting an occurrence if he called out, so there was no point in checking.

“Typical,” he grumbled as he wandered into the kitchen. There was some cold medicine that was still half full, so he took the prescribed about and washed it down with an energy drink before brushing his teeth and washing his face. His stomach… did not appreciate the concoction, so he carefully sipped some ginger ale to try and settle it.

His mood was certainly sour as he drove to work, but he tried to rationalize with himself. This did just feel like a bad cold - there was no point in lamenting not missing work, because there was no point in not going in. A cold wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t like he was dying. He’d worked through far worse.

But the fact that he had to be sick while working was a pain.

When he trudged into the ED, Warriors shot him a suspicious look. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Legend grunted hoarsely. “Just a cold.”

“That’s what you get for working straight nights,” Wars commented with a click of his tongue. “Destroys your immune system.”

“So says the guy who sounded like a congested goose the other night,” Legend snapped. “Pretty sure you’re the one who got me sick!”

“That was allergies! I don’t have a cold!” Warriors argued.

Someone sneezed, making the two whirl in their direction to see Wild leaning against a stretcher, looking pale and miserable.

“It was you, wasn’t it!” Legend accused.

Wild blinked, confused. “Me?”

“You’re getting everyone sick,” Wars joined in. “Put a damn mask on!”

Wild rolled his eyes. “I’ve been wearing a—hey!!”

The transporter hissed as Legend and Warriors armed themselves with alcohol wipes and sanitation spray, warding him off like some hellspawn before grumbling as they got their assignments for the night.

[barzonlinemag]

#BarzOnlineMag_LitLink

🙌🏽���️

@TouchlineTruth x @ginger_trill released a single titled #AMEN [feat. @Mandy__ZA] (Prod. By @SyperBeaTz) out now

Streaming available:

https://music.apple.com/za/album/amen-feat-mandy-za-single/1698359956

So always remember to #GoHardOnline with @barzonlinemag

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 30

Puddlespeckle went missing for a few days.

[Image ID: Weedfoot stands alone, calling “Father?”]

Rabbitjoy told Weedfoot that outsiders often saw the Clans as “imprisonment”, where others bossed you around and controlled your every step. This was far from the truth, of course. While apprentices had to be escorted due to the danger of the wilds and the Clan asked all who could to share the load, once you completed your tasks for the day, you were free to do as you may. No one would force a cat to follow commands all day.

But they still returned home. They weren’t supposed to be gone so long. Especially not an old, tired elder lost just before the start of winter.

“Father?” Weedfoot called. Harsh wind whipped her voice through the trees. “Father?”

“Puddlespeckle!” Parsley yowled from somewhere unseen. “Are you here?”

“I know you don’t like us much, but there’s no reason to leave!” Oilstripe half-laughed beside Weedfoot, nearly piercing her ear. Weedfoot shivered and rubbed her ear. Somewhere far behind her, the distant calls of the codekeeper’s patrol fluttered in the wind. With two patrols scanning every part of the territory for Puddlespeckle, someone was bound to find him, surely.

Oilstripe gently bunted Weedfoot’s shoulder. A soft trill slipped out of the ginger molly’s throat.

“I’m alright,” Weedfoot sighed, rubbing against Oilstripe. “I hope I didn’t drive him off.”

“He’s a stubborn old fool, but he’s grown to like the Clan!” Oilstripe chirped. “Somewhat, at least. He wouldn’t run off.” An emptiness swallowed the space after her words. Oilstripe was right. Puddlespeckle wouldn’t run away. But that meant something far worse had happened.

Soft pawsteps approached from behind. It was James. The former kittypet shook out his faded black ribbon and fluffed his fur against the early winter chill.

“James,” Weedfoot sighed, touching noses with her friend. “Did the codekeepers find anything?” James tucked his face into Weedfoot’s chest. His ribbon tickled her nose. His tail searched for Weedfoot’s. 

“Weed…” James sighed quietly. “Rustshade says he’s been out there for a while. I don’t think you should see it.”

[Image ID: Oilstripe is surrounded by the spirits of StarClan as she says, “I see StarClan whenever they come to visit. I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”]

Weedfoot didn’t want to know the details, but when that was all RippleClan could talk about, she was bound to hear them. According to Mousepaw, Puddlespeckle’s body had decayed enough that bringing it back to camp for a proper vigil would be worse than taking it straight to the graveyard. They couldn’t tell what did him in. Or maybe they did, but they were better about keeping it from Weedfoot’s ears than anything else.

Since the body was unpresentable, Fennelspot, Rabbitjoy, and Rattlepelt crafted a proxy. There were still some wilted forget-me-nots in the elder’s den from the last flowers Puddlespeckle managed to find to decorate his pelt. Rabbitjoy wove the petals into tufts of Puddlespeckle’s fur and Rattlepelt wrapped the creation in a freshly tanned pelt. With a simple blessing from Fennelspot, the wrap would be, in every spiritual sense, Puddlespeckle. At least for the night.

Weedfoot couldn’t say she was broken by this. She could never characterize her relationship with her father as something really positive, after all. But they had gotten better, hadn’t they? They were closer, even if Puddlespeckle sneered a bit when Weedfoot talked about James and complained about having to share his den with Parsley. Things were better. She should have had the chance to say goodbye.

James and Oilstripe were her closest companions during the vigil. She had expected Downstar to make an appearance, to say something, but as she had been prone to do for moons by that point, she stayed in her den. James and Oilstripe kept Weedfoot occupied with various stories of Puddlespeckle. Oilstripe had a shocking memory of the old gray tom; had Puddlespeckle actually told her about her apprenticehood misadventure at the Great Northern River? That didn’t seem like something he would share with her. At least she had stories to share, Weedfoot supposed.

Most cats did not stay long at the vigil. The search had taken up most of the day, leaving the whole Clan craving sleep. Even James bid farewell come moonhigh. Weedfoot and Oilstripe were the only ones stil awake at the end. 

“You can sleep, Oilstripe,” Weedfoot eventually sighed, running her paw over the leather wrap in front of her. “Thank you for staying up with me.”

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight,” Oilstripe mumbled. Her eyes were half closed and her ears constantly twitched. Her nose would curl up on occasion before she forced her face to relax.

“Try to,” Weedfoot suggested. “You look exhausted.” She bunted Oilstripe’s shoulder.

“I’m going to the dirtplace,” Oilstripe suddenly snapped. She stood so quickly, she knocked Weedfoot aside. Oilstripe scampered to the dirtplace, kicking up sand as she went. Was she more hurt by Puddlespeckle’s passing than Weedfoot first thought? She didn’t think the pair were that close. Oilstripe never really spoke to Puddlespeckle unless she was spending time with Weedfoot, after all. 

Weedfoot wouldn’t be a very good deputy (or friend) if she let Oilstripe suffer. She patted the leather wrap and followed the path to the dirtplace. The ocean’s hum filled her mind and tried to muffle Oilstripe’s words. Words? Yes, words; Oilstripe was speaking to someone. Weedfoot paused in the darkness of the shipwreck and listened.

“Why would I tell you?” Oilstripe snapped. “I don’t tell anyone about this.” Weedfoot spared a glance into the dirtplace. Oilstripe was alone, but she stared at the empty space beside her with what little fury her exhaustion let loose. “If you wanted a vigil over your body, maybe you shouldn’t have left camp!” Weedfoot knew Oilstripe had a tendency to talk to herself, muttering half a conversation when she thought no one else could hear. Wasn’t Fennelspot helping her with that odd quirk? How severe were her symptoms to have her arguing with shadows.

“Puddlespeckle, I told every story you asked me to share,” Oilstripe growled. “What else do you want from me? From Weedfoot? She loved you, you old mousebrain, even if she isn’t broken about it. Go to StarClan already and leave me alone! You’re pushing me into madness!”

“Oilstripe,” Weedfoot huffed, stepping into the dim moonlight. Oilstripe stiffened, one ear cocked toward Weedfoot. 

“Not again,” Oilstripe muttered, closing her eyes. “I’m alright, Weedfoot. Go back to your vigil.”

“We need to see Fennelspot,” Weedfoot said. She marched up to her old apprentice and gently coaxed her toward the dirtplace exit. Oilstripe, however, stood her ground.

“No, we don’t,” Oilstripe snapped. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Your symptoms are getting worse,” Weedfoot grunted. “Fennelspot will know what to do for you.”

“My…” Oilstripe stammered, “my symptoms?” Weedfoot nudged Oilstripe forward, but Oilstripe looped behind her. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Weedfoot insisted, turning to face her friend. She kept herself small as Oilstripe’s fur rose. “You haven’t slept much. It makes sense that your hallucinations—”

“StarClan, Weedfoot,” Oilstripe gulped. Her voice cracked like cold water splashing on a hot stone. “I, I know other cats see me talking to myself, but I didn’t think… you think I’m mad? How many cats think I see things that aren’t real?” 

“It’s—” Weedfoot said.

“I am not hallucinating!” Oilstripe cried, stomping after each word. “I see ghosts, Weedfoot, real ghosts. I see StarClan whenever they come to visit. I’m tired of pretending I don’t.” She wildly waved her tail to the empty spot beside her. “Puddlespeckle has been here all night. He hasn’t stopped complaining about how long it took us to find his body. I’m tired because he’s been ranting in my ear all day!”

“Oilstripe—” Weedfoot tried to interject.

“You want to see Fennelspot?” Oilstripe snapped. “We’ll see Fennelspot. He knows they’re real. Locustseeker proved it to him. And once he makes you believe, he’s going to tell the entire Clan. I won’t have my friends look at me and think I’ve lost my mind.” Oilstripe stomped up to Weedfoot and paused beside her. “If you believed I was seeing things this whole time, you should have said something. I don’t need you to pity me.” Oilstripe marched past Weedfoot and whipped out of sight.

“Oilstripe, wait!” Weedfoot cried. She ran after Oilstripe. All the clever and soothing words she planned to say fell away as she hurried deeper into the rising chaos.

(Weedfoot: 79, female, deputy, charismatic, very clever, formidable fighter)

(Parsley: 124, female, elder, righteous, great speaker)

(Oilstripe: 34, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(James: 106, male, caretaker, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

Graythroat recovers, but her tail is scarred.

[Image ID: Graythroat stands with a scar on her tail, saying, “Do I look wonderful or do I look wonderful?”]

---

“Do I look wonderful or do I look wonderful?” Graythroat purred. She stretched her scarred, freshly healed tail as high as she could. Most of RippleClan were enjoying their sunhigh naps, soaking in the sunshine of a uniquely warm winter’s day. Mousepaw and Rattlepelt, meanwhile, were more than happy to look at Graythroat’s new scars.

“They don’t hurt?” Rattlepelt wondered, her eyes following the trail of each scar like one watches a river’s current.

“Not at all,” Graythroat insisted. “I’ve always wanted a battle scar. I wish it covered more of my tail though. It’s hard to see without craning my back.”

“It’s a shame it isn’t from a grand battle, then,” Mousepaw mumbled. “Shadowdrop says you killed a fox minding its own business.”

“My brother also said a fox may have been the beast that took Puddlespeckle from us,” Graythroat huffed, tucking her tail away from Mousepaw’s judgy gaze. “Foxes are dangerous.”

“Not much more than a cat,” Mousepaw pointed out, whiskers twitching. Before Graythroat could come up with a clever response, something shifted in the corner of her eye. Downstar limped out of her den. She managed well on three legs, although the splint that bound her broken bone would likely come off soon.

“Mom, look at my scar,” Graythroat chirped. She wiggled her flank in front of her mom. Downstar studied the scar quietly. She then limped in front of the Shiprock, her face still and expressionless.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather below the Shiprock for a Clan meeting!” Downstar called, making Rattlepelt and Mousepaw jump. The sleeping masses scattered around camp stuttered to life, trying to collect themselves. Fennelspot stumbled out of the medicine den with weary eyes.

“Downstar, why are you calling a meeting in the middle of the day?” Fennelspot yawned as the rest of the Clan tried to wake up.

“You’ll see in a moment,” Downstar said softly. “Graythroat, come sit by me.” Graythroat happily trotted up to her mother. She nuzzled her mother with a deep purr. 

RippleClan was slow to gather. Their yawns and grumbles turned into quiet questions as they glanced between each other. Graythroat’s paws danced over the sand as she silently yowled for the group to come together already. Graythroat couldn’t take the suspense!

[Image ID: Downstar faces Graythroat, now called Wildclaw. Under Wildclaw, it says LEVEL UP! GRAYTHROAT -> WILDCLAW. Fennelspot sits in the foreground, saying, “Downstar, I don’t know about this.”]

“Since the day she became an apprentice,” Downstar began, “my daughter Graythroat has put her all into the defense of this Clan. She would gladly lay down her life if it meant RippleClan would survive.” Graythroat puffed out her chest. “She is everything I would want in a strong and loyal caretaker. She takes initiative to keep us safe and will always rise to the occasion. Her new scar is proof of this commitment. She deserves to be honored for her bravery. As such, today she will earn an honor title, which she will carry with her to StarClan.” 

The rest of the Clan faded away. An honor title? Graythroat was getting an honor title? She was getting a new name? Only the greatest in the Clan ever got an honor title! And they didn’t get theirs from their mother!

“Downstar, I don’t know about this.” Fennelspot’s worry tried to pierce Graythroat’s fog of joy, but Graythroat ignored him. She stood in front of her mother, chin and tail high, ready to erase her new name like pawprints in the sand.

“Spirits of StarClan, you know every cat by name,” Downstar declared. “I ask you now to take away the name from the cat you see before you, for it no longer stands for what she is. By my authority as Clan leader, and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name. From this moment on she will be known as Wildclaw, for her wild and daring spirit deserves to be honored.”

Wildclaw. Wildclaw. Wildclaw! What a beautiful name! Wildclaw’s heart fluttered as her Clan’s sleepy voices called her new name. It sunk into her very being. It was everything she was, deep inside. She didn’t care that the strained looks in her Clanmates’ eyes did not match the pride of their voices. She was proud of herself. Her mother was proud of her. That was enough.

(Wildclaw: 22, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Rattlepelt: 13, female, artisan, fierce, prey cleaner)

(Mousepaw: 7, female, codekeeper apprentice, loyal, oddly observant)

(Downstar: 89, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Fennelspot: 87, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

[clangenrising]

Month 4 - Greenleaf

Prev | First | Next

“So she just showed up and asked to join the clan?” Yarrowshade asked. Across camp, Goldenstar and Sagetooth were talking with the newcomer, Oddy. Nightfrost looked back at them and when she spoke, her mouth leaned in his direction, but her eyes stayed fixed on Oddy. 

“Yeah, she’s looking for protection for her kits,” she said.

Scorch, who had been sitting quietly since Nightfrost had approached her and Yarrowshade, said, “It looks like I’m not the only one who’s heard of your reputation.” 

Nightfrost looked at her, one ear twitching curiously. The rogue had been growing bolder, it seemed, since she began hunting with Yarrowshade on the regular. On the one paw, Nightfrost was glad she was starting to act less like a jumpy hare, but on the other, she wasn’t sure what kind of creature Scorch was underneath. 

“So it would seem,” she said cautiously. Scorch held her gaze, her eyes like chips of ice. Nightfrost could feel them trying to take her apart, calculating. Nightfrost looked away, turning her attention back to the new cat in camp. Still, she could almost feel Scorch smiling. 

“I didn’t realize we were so famous,” Yarrowshade said, sounding proud. 

“It’s not a good reputation,” Scorch snorted, “You’re kind of known as brutal warlords.” 

“What?” he laughed in response, “Us? Warlords?” 

“Obviously, no one saying that has met you, fuzzball.” Scorch bumped her shoulder roughly against him and he laughed again. Nightfrost didn’t turn her head but strangely, her shoulders tensed with jealousy. Was she jealous of Scorch? She pushed the thought away - that wasn’t relevant right now. 

“Well, either way, apparently she’s a very skilled healer,” she said. “She said she used to have a little den where cats would come and seek treatment, said a Clan healer taught her everything she knows.” 

“A Clan healer? Really?” Yarrowshade looked at the stranger with newfound interest. 

“Yeah.” Nightfrost gave him a meaningful look.

“Do you think it was Redleaf?” he asked. Nightfrost sighed a little, smiling nonetheless. Yarrowshade had never been much for subtlety. 

“Maybe,” she said, “Unless they were from SkyClan.” 

“Redleaf?” Scorch asked, clearly sensing a story there. 

“She was a healer here,” Yarrowshade supplied, “Sagetooth’s apprentice. When the Red Gut came, she lost faith in Star Clan, said they had abandoned us. She had a huge fight with Sagetooth and ended up leaving in the middle of the night. No one’s seen her since.” 

Scorch let out an intrigued trill. “Sounds like my kind of queen.” 

“Redleaf was impulsive and vindictive,” Nightfrost said firmly. “We’re better off without her.” Scorch shrank slightly, the smug look disappearing from her face. 

She dipped her head humbly and said in a soft voice, “My apologies. I shouldn’t speak on matters unfamiliar to me.” Nightfrost frowned, eyes narrowing. Yarrowshade swallowed uncomfortably. Scorch glanced between them and said, “If you’ll excuse me.” With another polite bow, the ginger dame slipped away, heading for the healer’s den. Nightfrost huffed. 

“She was just joking around, Nightfrost,” said Yarrowshade, ears pressing backwards as he tried to appease her, “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”

Nightfrost took a deep breath and sighed. “Sorry, she just… rubs my fur the wrong way.” 

Yarrowshade frowned. He looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t have the right words. Immediately she felt like crowfood. Sighing, again, she leaned forward to bump her head against his, letting the contact calm her nerves. 

“It’s fine, really. I’m glad you’re having fun with her.” 

“Not too much fun,” he said, a bit of humor coming back into his voice. Pulling back, he gave her a cheeky little grin. “But, hey, if you’re stressed out, maybe we could go out and train? Fool around a bit?” She rolled her eyes and turned away. 

“No thanks,” she said, “You know I’m not the irresponsible type.” 

“Who said anything about irresponsible?” he purred. “Way I see it, cutting loose would be good for your health!” 

“Ah, I see. And that’s in your unbiased opinion?” 

“Of course! Solely concerned about your well being.” He swiped a paw over his muzzle in a gesture of honesty. 

Across the camp, Goldenstar and Oddy finished talking, both looking pleased. Sagetooth dipped her head to Oddy and stepped up, laying a tail over her back to lead her to the healer’s den. Nightfrost didn’t envy them, knowing they would run into Scorch who was probably sulking inside. 

“Looks like Oddy’s going to stay,” she said. 

“It’ll be good to have a second healer around,” Yarrowshade said brightly, “Oh! And kits! Do you think they’ll be apprenticed?” 

“Who knows,” Nightfrost shrugged. “It’d be nice to have more kits in camp though.” 

“You know, I have an idea to help with that,” he said, unable to stop the smirk from creeping into his voice.

“You’re the worst!” she laughed and reared up to bat him around the head. 

“Ow! Ow! Hey!” he laughed, ducking and backing away, “It was just an idea!” She chuckled and pursued him for a few steps before relenting. 

“You and your ideas,” she clucked, shaking her head. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 41

Chapter 40 || Index || Chapter 42

Sunshine poured through the foliage of camp as Fireheart sat in the middle of camp, watching Clan life occur around him. The days were growing warmer and warmer as newleaf beckoned; it wouldn’t be long until the accumulated snowfall melted away into mere puddles. Prey was coming out of its burrows; only a few right now, but once the snow melted they would surely be flocking to nut caches and new buds. Things were finally beginning to look up. 

“It’s a sign of Starclan’s disapproval!” He blinked out of his reverie as he heard someone mutter nearby, angling his head to see Smallear talking with One-eye and Halftail. “The infection will only get worse until she names a new deputy as the code dictates!”

“Illnesses happen all the time, Smallear. Do you not remember last leafbare? Or do you think that it’s Redtail’s fault that the Great Hunger happened?” He looked away as One-eye replied to her brother with a haughty scoff. “In fact, I’d say it’s thanks to Starclan that we haven’t had so much as a whisper of greencough this season. Only a couple of cats got whitecough, and Dewpaw and Yellowfang were on it faster than a squirrel on a fallen acorn.”

“How do we know that Bluestar doesn’t have greencough? They won’t let anyone near her!” He could picture Smallear lashing his white tail, though he didn’t look to see. “For all we know, she’s rotting away in there. She might as well be, as long as Fireheart’s our deputy.”

“Hush! Can’t you see he’s right there?” He turned away, flattening his ears to what the elder was saying as One-eye reprimanded him. It didn’t matter - Smallear was right that he shouldn’t be deputy. The Clan was doing better now, but it was hardly thanks to him. If it wasn’t for Whitestorm, everything would have fallen apart by now.

A flash of white caught his attention, and he turned to see a small white kitten sniffing its way furiously across the ground. He perked his ears in surprise, just in time to hear the familiar trill of his sister. “Be careful, now!”

He looked up to the nursery to see Princess standing there, watching her firstborn take his first pawsteps into camp as the other kits stared out nervously from the entrance. He padded over, already purring at the sight of them. “Princess! What’s going on?” Fireheart asked curiously as he looked down on his nieces and nephews.

“Goldenflower and Frostfur think that they’ve gotten old enough to leave the nursery for the first time, and I agree.” Princess nudged the kits at her feet forward. “Go on, follow your brother. It’s plenty safe out there, with your uncle keeping watch.”

“Unka Fiya-hawt? Where?” The kits peered out at the world with eyes that were just beginning to change color. One of the gray tabby toms was staring at him distrustfully, a sight that made his heart hurt.

“I’m right here, silly.” Fireheart purred, crouching down so he was on equal eye level with them. Now they were all staring at him, as though he had suddenly grown a second tail. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“You’re not Unka Fiya-hawt!” The tortoiseshell, Lynxkit, yowled as she backed into her mother’s legs. “Unka Fiya-hawt is brown!” 

He stared at them, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. He’d been bringing them freshkill for close to two moons now - how could they not recognize him? As he looked up to his sister, he could see confusion in her eyes, before they suddenly widened. “They’ve only ever seen you in the dark of the den before.” She pointed out to him, gesturing at the length of him. “I guess you do look quite different in the sunlight.”

She was right; as he glanced back at his pelt, a bright ginger in the sun, he realized that it only glowed like this in the sunlight. It was strange to think that he looked so different, but maybe… “Alright, then.” He purred, trying not to let the sting of rejection tinge his voice as he padded over to the shadow of the Highrock. “How about now? Now am I Uncle Fireheart?”

“Unka!” He blinked as Cloudkit raced over, shoving into his now darker fur. “Mama said you’d be here!”

“Well, she was right.” He purred to his nephew, already so big compared to the mouse-sized kit that he had been at birth. “I’m keeping watch over camp, so it’s nice and safe for you.”

The other kits scuttled after their brother, now certain of their uncle’s identity. “You looked so weird!” One of the gray tabby toms - he couldn’t yet tell them apart - squeaked at him. “Why does your fur change? Why doesn't my fur change?” He stuck his tail out in the warmth of the sun, but it was only a brighter shade of gray than the rest of his body in the shadows.

“I don’t know.” Fireheart admitted. He’d never really considered how different he looked in light and shadow until now; as he stuck his own tail out from the shadow, he had to admit he understood the kits’ confusion. His sister looked almost cream in the brightest sunlight, but he knew as well as they did that she was more of a dark tawny color. “I guess my fur is just like that.”

“No fair! I want changing fur!” Lynxkit squeaked with a stamp of her little paw.

“Well, your fur might not change, but you get both black and orange fur.” He pointed out to the little molly as she frowned up at him. “Mine might change color, but I only get one at a time.”

“That’s true!” She brightened up immediately, looking over her shoulder to admire her pelt in a new context.

“Well, I’ve got lotsa colors!” Sorrelkit boasted, standing triumphantly among her siblings as she showed off her white, gray, and cream-colored pelt. “That makes me the best!”

“No it doesn’t!” Lynxkit cried, looking up at Fireheart with a giant frown. “Tell her I’m better!”

He looked down at the two mollies, his fur growing hot as they glared up at him. “Well, I don’t think-”

“Hey, what’s that?” Cloudkit yowled loudly before he could finish speaking, tumbling off after a fallen leaf nearby. The other four kits immediately turned their attention to what he was looking at, racing off with their argument apparently forgotten.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to his sister. “They’re going to be real pawfuls, you know.” He pointed out to her with a purr.

“Oh, I know. At least I have Goldenflower to help me.” She flicked her tail to where the fluffy queen was sitting, watching the five kits as they began eagerly exploring the clearing. “I don’t know how I’d manage all of them otherwise!” She shivered playfully for a moment before looking at him with teasing green eyes. “So what has my big deputy brother been up to, anyways?”

He hesitated at the title, his mind already wandering back to the elders’ conversation earlier. “Oh, not much.” He purred to deflect the question. “I’d ask you the same, but I think I already know the answer.”

To his surprise, she frowned at his reply. “What’s wrong?” She asked, lowering her voice now. As he stared back at her in confusion, she sighed and rested her tail on his. “You always have this little crease on your chin when you’re worried. What’s wrong?”

He blinked at her, shocked to hear it. Did he really? He wondered for a moment if others had noticed, recalling what Peppermask had said about cats that knew him well being able to read him easier. Perhaps that was what she meant? “I… I just…” He sighed and looked away from her, out towards where the elders were still talking. “I’m sure you must have heard by now how I’m not supposed to be deputy.”

Princess blinked slowly at him. “Frostfur mentioned something about it, but Goldenflower hushed her. I didn’t really get to hear the full story.” She tilted her head and flicked a tawny ear at him. “I don’t understand - didn’t Bluestar name you deputy? Isn’t that all there is to it?”

He wearily shook his head. “No, there’s - there’s requirements to being a deputy. One of them is that a deputy must have mentored an apprentice before being named. There’s - there’s some room for interpretation on that, but I’ve never even been considered for an apprentice. I’ve only been a warrior for a couple of seasons as it is.”

She listened to him carefully, slowly nodding along as he spoke. “Well, why don’t you mentor one of the apprentices? Or you could mentor one of my kits, when they’re old enough. I- I kind of expected you would, when it came to that.”

Fireheart managed to purr weakly at the offer. “I can’t just take an apprentice from another mentor. Mentors and apprentices are a special bond, and… I’m only a few moons older than the current apprentices, anyways. It’d be weird.” He didn’t really know how to explain it to a cat that hadn’t been an apprentice before. “And that’s not the only requirement, either. For another, the ceremony has to take place before moonhigh after the deputy position is vacated, and mine… wasn’t.”

She snorted dismissively at that. “So? It still happened, didn’t it? The circumstances were unusual; I’m sure any cat would be willing to make an exception.”

“Cats of the Clans don’t do exceptions very well.” He thought briefly of bringing up that he was also a kittypet, which was generally despised among the Clan, but she surely knew as well as he did the attitude most Clan cats had towards kittypets. “I just - none of them will say it to my face, but they don’t consider me a real deputy. They’re all waiting for Bluestar to get better and hold a new ceremony, for a different deputy.”

“If they won’t say it to your face, then they can’t believe it that much.” Princess huffed, screwing her nose up in disdain at the unnamed cats he was speaking of. “Don’t listen to them, Fireheart. You’re doing a fine job.”

How would she know? He held the words back with a contemptuous twitch of his whiskers. She was stuck in the nursery all day; she barely saw him, except when he came in to give her and her kits freshkill. She didn’t know what it was like, day in and day out, knowing he was constantly being judged. Things were fine - for now - but they would not always be. He wasn’t sure if the Clan could handle an inevitable crisis with him as deputy - especially not if Tigerclaw ended up coming back for a rematch.

“You’re not allowed in there!” He jumped as someone growled behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts, and turned to see Tinyfrost standing over Cloudkit, who was inching curiously towards the leader’s den. “Find somewhere else to play.”

He expected the little white kit to turn around immediately at the sight of the bristling black tom, but instead Cloudkit looked up at Fireheart’s former mentor with a defiant glare. “Why not?” His nephew challenged, taking another pawstep towards the lichen curtain. “What’s in there?”

Frustration grew in Tinyfrost’s icy gaze as he stared down at the kit, and Fireheart quickly bounded forward to intervene before the situation worsened. “That’s the leader’s den, Cloudkit. You’re only allowed to go in if you’re invited.” He explained, just as Graystripe had explained to him back when he was first an apprentice.

Cloudkit turned his attention to his uncle, even as he jutted his chin out insolently. “So? You’re the deputy! You can invite me!”

He took a deep breath, trying not to snap at his sister’s kit. This was just part of raising a kit in the Clans, wasn’t it? He just had to explain it patiently so that Cloudkit understood. “I might be the deputy, yes, but the leader has power over me, along with everyone else in the Clan. If I invite you in without asking her, she’ll get upset with me, and then I’ll be in trouble. You don’t want that for me, do you?”

His nephew looked distinctly unsympathetic. “You won’t get in twouble if I just look!” Cloudkit mewed eagerly, eyeing the entrance once again. “Lemme go in!”

“She’d be able to smell you in there, for one.” Fireheart pointed out as his annoyance only continued to grow. “Plus the whole camp will see you go in and out. And that would be if she’s not in there right now - which she is.”

“Really? Lemme see her!” Cloudkit marched determinedly dowards the curtain, but Fireheart quickly swept him away with a paw.

“No, you can’t. The reason she’s in there is because she’s sick, and needs rest.” Fireheart tried not to let his irritation seep into his voice at the continued defiance of his nephew. How did queens handle kits every day when they were like this? “She doesn’t need nosy kits harassing her right now.”

The little kit huffed angrily as he was batted away from the den, studying the distance and Fireheart’s paw as he considered whether he was fast enough to make it through the curtain before the deputy could stop him. “I’ll be quiet then! I-”

“How many times must your uncle tell you no before you listen?” Cloudkit jumped as Princess stepped out from behind her brother, glowering down at her young son. “If you don’t leave him and Tinyfrost alone, you can go right back to the nursery while the rest of your siblings explore camp. Is that clear?”

Cloudkit scrunched his nose up angrily at his mother, and for a moment he thought the kit might ignore her anyways. Then he turned, his little white tail lashing as best it could, and sulked off to where the other four kits were exploring the tree stump by the apprentices’ den with great fascination. “Fine.” He huffed as he went across camp, his small triangular ears as flat as he could make them.

The tawny queen sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned to Tinyfrost. “I’m sorry about him. He’s going through a rebellious streak now that he’s old enough to run around. I thought that getting to explore camp would excite him enough to keep him from talking back, but I guess I was wrong.”

Tinyfrost sat back down beside the leader’s den, giving his shoulder a quick couple of licks. “Just make sure that he and the rest of his litter stay well away from me, alright? I’m guarding Bluestar, not playing kitsitter.” He looked away haughtily, but Fireheart knew that his old mentor wasn’t truly upset at the kits - Bluestar’s condition had been hard on all of those in her inner circle, Tinyfrost included.

The two siblings padded away to watch the five kits, who had now begun a rousing game of tag in the ferns of the apprentice den. “I worry about how they’ll fit in.” Princess mewed softly to him, quiet enough that no other cat could hear. “Goldenflower and Frostfur treat them just like any other kit, I’m sure, but what about the rest of the Clan? They weren’t all happy to see me, the day I joined, and I’m afraid…” She trailed off, meeting Fireheart’s gaze out of the corner of her eye.

“I know what you mean.” He admitted, recalling his own reception into the Clan when he had been a mere 6 moons old. It had been easy to understand some cats’ disdain for him, and in time he’d learned who to avoid and who could be trusted. But as far as Princess’ kits knew, they were Clanborn; they wouldn’t understand why certain cats glared at them as they walked past. 

But with Tigerclaw and Darkstripe gone, exposed by mere kittypet-borns, many of those who harbored hatred against kittypets were now silent - or at the very least, doing a better job at hiding their hatred of him. He supposed it also helped that he was deputy now, and while he wouldn’t abuse his authority to reprimand them over childish insults, they didn’t seem interested in testing him on that.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” Fireheart replied at last. “Tigerclaw’s betrayal has them all shaken. As far as most of them care, he was Clanborn, same as any of them. That a Clanborn cat would do something so awful - and that a kittypet-born would be the one to stop him - it all makes them question what worth that all has. Between that and me being deputy now, I don’t think they’ll dare to say anything to you or the kits.” He turned to give her a reassuring smile. “But if they do, you just tell me, alright? I won’t tolerate them making my niblings feel less-than.”

She gave him a small smile in return, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. “I know you will.” She turned back to watch as Cloudkit leaped out of the ferns to bowl over one of the gray kits, who squealed angrily with indignation at the attack. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking - did she not believe him? Was there something else she was afraid of? He couldn’t tell.

But, he vowed silently as he watched the five of them run around and enjoy their first time out of the nursery, he would make sure that they knew that they belonged in Thunderclan. For the first time, he felt as though there was no question as to whether he belonged here - with his family and friends. He would do anything he could to keep it that way.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

the people(me) want more of foul legacy embarrassing ajax!! ajax finding out about how embarrassingly cat-like his counterpart is and turning red!!!! silly boy!!!

yeah!!!!! i agree!!!!!

Ajax who blushes deeply when you tell him about how Foul Legacy rolls over in the sun, stretching out on the grass and closing his eye with a blissful purr- it's the perfect position for you to rub his tummy, and his purrs only increase in volume tenfold when you do. you sing praises about how Legacy would nuzzle against your palm, giving your hand tiny licks and nudges, and Ajax's cheeks only darken, turning the color of late sunset. he lets out an undignified squawk when your finger reaches out and pokes his freckles, tapping each of them in a constant, familiar pattern, and the Eleventh Harbinger stubbornly buries his face in your shoulder to hide his bright flush. you merely give him a mischievous grin and ruffle his soft ginger hair, already coming up with schemes to make Foul Legacy even more adorable

to say that you encourage Legacy's cat-like behavior would be an understatement- it helps that you love it either way, always laughing in delight whenever he snuggles up to you or flops over on the floor with an exhausted huff. you're on a walk together one day when a butterfly flits past, first landing on your finger before fluttering over and perching on a fascinated Legacy's horn, who lets out tiny chitters and coos of joy as to not scare the insect off. you smile and raise your kamera, snapping a quick photo, the colorful butterfly contrasting beautifully against your Abyssal monster's crimson mask before it eventually flies away and Legacy lets out his purrs at full volume, sparkling wings fluttering and flitting with uncontrolled delight. he bounds over and nuzzles against you, looking over your shoulder at the photo with a cheerful trill- you simply must get it developed and put it in your album!

Ajax, on the other hand, turns completely red when he sees that picture. you can almost see his ears glowing in embarrassment as he lets out a groan and buries his face into his hands, only stopping when you wrap your arms around his waist and give him a tight, firm squeeze

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Friday, June 14

Cordelia turns and heads out of the library. The others each give Buffy a quick apologetic glance and follow her out. Giles walks into the area as Buffy goes to the table to get her bottle of apple juice. GILES: Seems like a lot of fuss for... one little title. BUFFY: Well, you know, it's no fun if you don't try your best. (takes a drink) GILES: As long as fun is still in the mix. BUFFY: (smiling) Sure! It's not like anyone takes it that seriously. The bottle in her hand suddenly shatters under the pressure of her grip.

~~Homecoming~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Another Five Things that Never Happened to Spike & Fred by eevol76vamp (Fred/Spike, Angel/Spike, other pairings, M)

An End by LizRambler (Oz, T)

Six Things that Never Happened to Spike & Fred by eevol76vamp (Fred/Spike, Buffy/Spike, other pairings, E)

Turning the Tables by Harlow Turner (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 429 by madimpossibledreamer (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure xover, T)

SLAYERS: BLOODLINES (sneak peek) by Dark Ages (OCs, unrated)

Primal - Ch. 1 by eevol76vamp (Buffy/Spike, others, E)

The Chronicles of Darla: The Untold Story - Ch. 1-7 by Datherine100 (Angelus/Darla, T)

A New Beginning (Darla/William; Daredevil's OC) - Ch. 1-4 by Datherine100 (Darla/OC, T)

Humorous - Ch. 1-3 by Datherine100 (Ensemble, Warriors and True Blood xover, G) and numerous other fics by same author including Bangel

Buffy: Self insert - Ch. 15-17 by NeverluckySMILE (Buffy, Willow, Xander, G)

Slayerborn - Ch. 15 by Ihatechoosinganame (Xander, M)

Father Returns - Ch. 7 by Amizzadu (Angel/Spike, M)

The hellmouth experience - Ch. 7 by Sylvesterthecrow (Xander/Oz, T)

Different direction taken - Ch. 42 by Nerdzilla91 (Tara/Faith, Tara/Willow, others, M)

Highlands and Tropical Islands - Ch. 9 by QuillBard (Buffy/Faith, M)

Three's a Crowd - Ch. 3 by HAL1500 (Giles/Jenny, G)

In Case You Haven't Noticed... - Ch. 18 by Sdhuskerfan (Buffy/Giles, E)

I hate the way - Ch. 23 by DancingAngel0013 (Buffy/Giles, E)

Lest This Bond Be Broken - Ch. 8 by Dynapink (Buffy/Giles, M)

School of Hard Knocks - Ch. 3 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Devil's Trill - Ch. 10 by Murray (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Deliverance From Destiny - Ch. 32 by Ragini (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) COMPLETE!

The Boyfriend Swap - Ch. 18 by Maxine Eden (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Neighbor's Point of View - Ch. 113 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG)

Transformed By Love - Ch. 6 by Buffyworldbuilder (Fred, Xander, The Originals xover, FR15)

Bruises - Ch. 21 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Lock screen: [we all have crosses to bear] by russian-sasha (Spike, worksafe)

Textpost: Pacey makes a reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer... by julikobold (Spike, worksafe)

Gifset: Liam/Angel and Darla's 18th century outfits in the flashbacks [on ATS] by vampyreblr (Angel/Darla, worksafe)

Gifset: buffy + angel's cross by ptieuca (Buffy/Angel, worksafe)

Gifset: PRIDE EXCHANGE by ginger-grimm (Buffy/OC, worksafe)

Gifset: Look at me, Deary. Be...in my eyes. Be...in me. by biancalawsongifs (Kendra, worksafe)

Gifset: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER | 6.04by andremichaux (Willow, Giles, worksafe)

Video: Willow - Pretty isn't pretty enough by Faith Victoria

[Recs & In Search Of]

Recs: More road trip fics? Don't mind if we do! [multiple Spuffy fic recs] by elysianfieldsarchive

ISO: kristicuse seeks [to discuss the] Into Every Generation a Slayer is Born (Book)

[Fandom Discussions]

Ask answered: i was wondering if you could write some headcanons about [Spike] by readingbookelf

The problem with magic in Buffy the Vampire Slayer is they just made it structurally overpowered. by quasi-normalcy

why did they not conclude Willow’s arc properly when it comes to her complex trauma... by girl4music

The way the gang all talk about the baby Darla is carrying is so fucking weird. by nicnacsnonsense

It’s so stupid that they killed Darla, the most interesting character in the series, off. by nicnacsnonsense

Doc Holliday (Wynonna Earp ed.) and Spike (BTVS) by fromthedeskofcripslock

Buffy coming back “wrong” by Joan the Vampire Slayer

Why does Angel wear his Claddagh ring in the relationship position but puts it on Buffy in the married position? by jaaimflbm

Kendra was dressed weirdly for her character by Other_Thing_2551

How did Whistler know that Kendra brought the Acathala-slaying sword with her? by five-bi-five

Small detail - Faith [3x21 and 3x22 continuity in fingernails and tattoo] by jrow100

Did Giles really have a blind spot? [about Tillow] by Al_Bee

Why did they do these in Seeing Red? by jogaforacont

Would Robin have slayer blood too? by IntelligentPumpkin74

Does anyone read and/or write Buffy fanfic? If so, what is your favorite story? by Kat-Attack-52

Least favorite JW episode? by johnnyorac

POLL: If we had an additional scooby member during the high school years? by matt-89

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

James Marsters Sydney Supanova Expo 2024 Schedule [panel time added] via dontkillspike

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[willxmeyers]

this house doesn't feel like home. (self para) where: will and @lemielewis's house

The headlights of his car illuminated the darkened porch of Will and Lemie's house as he swung into their driveway. The sun had been taking longer and longer to set each day as summer arrived and it was well past dinnertime by the time he'd left Coral Cottage.

It was Lemie's day off, something that they usually planned accordingly so that they could spend the day together outside of their work environment. But Will was training their newest front desk attendant this week, something which had been going.. middlingly. It was just a summer job for some college student on break, hardly someone who's career aspiration was answering phones and welcoming guests, but she'd do for the time being. Working the front desk was a pretty easy gig once you got into the swing of it and Will considered himself a pretty lenient boss.

Throughout the day, Will had checked in but recieved no texts back from Lemie. It wasn't unheard of. If she was out and about, it wasn't as if she was glued to her phone and they'd always catch up when they were home together so it made little difference. He'd messaged that he was on his way home when leaving the cottage and the 5 minute drive home wasn't enough time to raise any alarm bells.

But as he exited the car, Will could just sense something amiss. Maybe it was just how bleak the house looked in the darkness. It was foreboding and hollow without the warmness that usually lit up the house from within. He took their front steps two at a time, keys in hand to unlock the door - only to find it unlocked. Closed, but unlocked. His brows pinched together in concern.

Lemie was sometimes forgetful, he told himself. Maybe she couldn't find her keys before leaving. It wasn't as if she drove so it might've been easier to just head out without them. The logical part of Will's brain was working overtime to ensure that the unsettling feeling inside him didn't sink too deep into his stomach.

But as he opened the hallway and turned on the light, the set of house keys were the first thing his dark eyes settled on and an ice cold shiver ran down his spine.

In a flash, Will's phone was in his hand, unlocking the screen and immediately being greeted by their conversation thread. His unanswered texts shone back, mocking him.

2:04pm Will: How are you going, my love? 5:31pm Will: She just told me she's never made a bed before. Will: Her mum has always done it for her.. she's in college? Does her mum still make her bed? So many questions 8:14pm Will: On my way home now x

Will fought against the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach and called Lemie. Her voicemail greeted him, the sound of her recorded voice doing nothing to put him at ease. "Hey, it's Lemie. I'm probably ignoring you." The familiar beep sounded and he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke. "Hey Lem, where are you? I came home and you're not here.. are you at Lucky's? Just call me when your phone is back on, okay? Love you."

The trill of Paprika's bell alerted him to the cat's presence at the top of the stairs, stretching as if he'd just awoken. "Hey buddy," Will said, shutting the front door behind him. The ginger cat meowed as if in response, the sight of their non-human son elevating a minor amount of stress. It gave no clue as to where Lemie was but at least their cat was still here. Making his way up the stairs to their bedroom, the feline rubbed against his leg once he'd reached the upper threshold.

Upon pushing their bedroom door open, it felt emptier somehow. Like they'd been burgled but all the culprits took where things like Lemie's phone charger, her suitcase that was still half unpacked from their trip to Italy and what looked like half the contents of her underwear drawer which was still hanging open.

Again, his mind tried to piece together a rational reasoning behind it all. Family emergency? Only Lucky and Lori constituted family enough for that and it wasn't unlike them to reach out directly to tell Will what was going on if it was a crisis. Maybe Cherry had her heart broken, yet again and needed a girl's night? But why would her phone be off? Why wouldn't she had said something? As much as he wanted to imagine it was some silly misunderstanding, despite whatever reasonings his mind could create, a deep, dark voice prevailed. It sounded suspiciously like his father.

She's left you.

As if manifesting it into existence, Will spotted a slightly crumpled piece of paper on her side of the bed. From how Paprika skulking around it like a hunter circling its prey, it was likely he'd been playing with it for however long it had been there.

Will felt himself sit on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to the piece of paper with only two words written on it. He read it over and over as if doing so would reveal more to it, a clue as to what might have happened. But nothing came to him.

In Lemie's familiar scrawl, 'I'm sorry' was all that was written.

[badger-00k]

Of Cats, Apples and Old Friends

It was a lovely October morning: a radiant day with a fine weather unspoiled by clouds and a playful breeze to match; indeed it was a day fit for poetry and romance of the highest degree. However, as is the case for most such days, it came at a time where it was less fit to be enjoyed.

In fact on that spry autumn day our dear protagonist was holed up in her room with a steaming mug of tea, pouring over her professor's infuriatingly vague assignments. Mr. Cog had demanded that they take a picture of an apple; but not just any picture, mind you.

"The picture must tell a story. What is this apple? Whence does it come? What is its purpose?"

Olivia, who perhaps naively had heretofore believed apples to be rather straightforward botanical objects was now racking her brain over the platonic ideal of an apple in search of a good idea.

She'd grabbed a handful of different apples from the kitchen basket and had been carrying them around nonstop trying to observe them in different lightings and settings; even sketching them a few times.

It was all for naught. Either the apples were withholding their ethereal secrets out of sheer, unbridled spite (which the superstitious part of her brain was starting the believe, beginning thus a lifelong feud with the fruit) or Mr. Cog was an unbearably pretentious bugger.

Either way her efforts had been all but thwarted for the time being. Olivia glanced sourly at the insultingly blue sky unfolding over her window and stepped away from her desk to refill her empty mug.

As she shouldered past the minefield of laundry baskets and precarious book piles scattered through her room she perceived a fluffy orange thing in the very corner of her eye.

The thing turned out to be a small tomcat perched on a high shelf, his paws tucked under his chest. He looked completely at ease and very, very pleased with himself.

He gave a little trill as their eyes met, and despite her confusion Olivia couldn't help but chuckle.

"How long have even you been here, little guy?" she asked, cautiously offering her hand.

The cat said nothing, but sniffed her hand and smushed his pointy face against it with a purr.

She smiled and scratched under his jaw.

A small can of tuna was fetched for him and was immensely appreciated. Olivia, sitting on her bed, watched him quietly as he lapped up the food.

As if struck by lightning she reached for an apple and with a fat black marker drew a sad face on it.

She set it up on the back of the chair where the feasting was taking place so it looked as though the apple was mournfully looking down at the cat.

Satisfied with her handiwork she snapped a few pictures from different angles. Oddly enough even when he was finished eating he obligingly stood still, smelling the interior of the can as if it were the single most interesting thing in the universe and then just not moving at all.

She didn't have the time to reflect on her luck before being startled out of her thoughts by the doorbell's shrill howl.

On the other side of the door stood a tall, gangly young woman with brown skin and wild black curls that complemented her dusty cargo pants and washed out t-shirt.

Recognition flared up in her brain, but before she could utter the tiniest sound the other girl was already halfway through a speech she seemed to have practiced hundreds of times.

"Hello! Awfully sorry to bother you, I'm looking for my cat. He's a small ginger male, neutered, likes to sneak in houses and dorm rooms. Have you-" her big hazel eyes flung open until they were the size of saucers.

Olivia couldn't help but giggle as the realization slowly dawned on her old friend, and flashed her her signature winning grin as a response.

"What, forgot my handsome face already Amelia dear? High school wasn't that much time ago."

The light brown on the other girl's cheeks darkened slightly.

"Oh, uhm, hey. It's been a while!" She gave her a genuine if slightly awkward little smile.

"Indeed. What can I do you for? Something about a cat?"

"Yes! Have you-"

"Say no more!" Olivia whirled around, scooped up the cat and returned triumphantly to the girl.

"I believe-" she said, showing off the little creature with a dramatic flourish of her arm, "you were looking for this small fellow."

Amelia clasped her hands together and sighed with relief.

"Yes! Thank you. He usually follows me like a shadow, but every so often he decides to strike out on his own and just... hang out with strangers I guess." She shrugged. "Don't know."

She dropped to her haunches and extended her hand to ruffled the top of his head.

"Ay, bobito! Me haces preocupar por nada."

The young artist leaned against the doorframe and bobbed her head to the side like a quizzical little bird.

"Is Bobito his name?" 

"No, I just call him that sometimes. It's... kind of like calling a child little dummy, you know? But  his name is Banjo."

"Aww, how cute!" squealed Olivia, burying her hand in the luxurious fur of the cat's back. 

"It suits him so well!"

Banjo chirped and politely weaseled out of her grasp, hopping by Amelia's side. 

Olivia feigned a noise of distress; then she leaned down, winked, and blew him a kiss. 

The little tomcat straightened his tail and answered with a happy little meow.

For a half minute the tall unkept girl shuffled awkwardly on her feet before finally muttering: 

"Hey, listen. I know we haven't kept in touch but... I don't know man. I liked you- platonically" she added hastily, "-back in school. If you're not busy, would you like to come grab a coffee with me one of these days?"

The clumsy sincerity in her ex classmate's voice warmed Olivia's heart.

"Of course. Hell!" she glanced back at the delightful blue sky unfurling out her window.

"Wanna go now?"

"Wai- now?"

"Yeah! You busy?"

"Not really, but-"

"Then it's settled, innit?"

She whisked over to her closet, grabbed a coat, locked the door behind her and snatched the other girl's wrist before pulling her along and out of the dorms.

"Come on now! I know the *best* coffee shop around here."