#Willow Leaf Picking the Stars

[kdram-chjh]

Cdrama: My Wife's Double Life (2024)

Gifs of Intro of cdrama "My Wife's Double Life"

【Multi Sub | FULL】 Government Officials Love Female Thieves | My Wife's Double Life 柳叶摘星辰 EP1 |iQIYI

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JpJUe_7leo8

[fragrantdream]

prince xavier

The rustling leaves of the weeping willow shelter you from the sun and the gentle afternoon breeze. You sit beneath the magnificent tree with your legs crossed and head leant back against its’ trunk. The sun starts to waver in the sky, its light turning from bright white to a much more comfortable orange. You can’t help but fall into the clutches of a light sleep while you wait, but after a while the tranquillity of the gardens is interrupted by a restless presence. Opening your eyes, you look up to see Xavier standing before you, the loose white fabric of his undershirt billowing around him like a halo, and his skin tanned rather strongly in of the dwindling days of summer. He smiles down at the disorientated look on your face, admiring the way you look up at him in awe. 

“Have you been well?” Xavier asks with a smirk, sitting beside you comfortably.  

“I should stand to greet you.” You aren’t sure who is watching you, so you do just that. You bow, trying to greet the future king with the proper protocol.  He chuckles at the sight of you standing before him with your clothes stained by the dampness of the ground – a leaf hangs from your shoulder. He stands and returns the bow mockingly, before reaching out and picking up the leaf between his fingers to let it flutter to the ground. 

“Nobody is watching.” Xavier silently hopes that he’s right, and that his minders hadn’t followed him into the woods. He grips your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, which forces you to smile despite your anxiety. You know you aren’t permitted to see him, and you let the fear of being caught flicker over you for a second before the feeling of his head nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck makes you forget. You both stand still for a moment, taking the moment as it is – beautiful, and fleeting. Birds and bugs begin to chirp louder as the sun continues to set, the air growing colder. Naturally, and as you have many times before, you lay side by side for a while to silently watch the stars as they appear. It’s easy to lose track of time chatting about the upcoming winter, and anything else that comes to mind. You eventually light the oil lantern he’d hidden in the trunk of the willow months ago when you’d first met in this meadow. It is the only way you’re able to stay out just a bit longer past sunset. 

You look over at Xavier, now illuminated by the warm glow of the fire with an arm resting behind his head, eyes trained on you as you lay back down beside him. His hands grasp yours tightly, and he pulls them to his lips where he kissed them, before letting them rest on his chest over his heart. Even after all this time, he was yet to kiss you, so although foreign the action was not undesired. Propping your head up on your elbow you look down at him, and he’s surprised you’ve let go of his hand and wonders if he’s done something wrong. You start to think about how it wasn’t long before he’d no longer be your prince, but rather, a king. He’d be betrothed, and running the country. You wonder how much he might change when that happens though you quickly dismiss your doubts because it’s Xavier, and he has a habit of handling anything life throws at him. You find yourself lost in the sentimentality of the moment and lean down to press a kiss to his lips, certain that his father the king would be disgusted at the thought of his son being touched by a commoner. He winds his hand behind your head and sits up, and you quickly realise he wants to kiss you too – you both slowly test the waters, and relish in the feeling after so many years of imagining it. The feeling is completely different from those daydreams, yet it is a thousand times better at the same time. 

Xavier opens his mouth first with a loud exhale that tickles your face and sends shivers down your spine and neck. You both straighten up and readjust for a moment while he moves his open mouth against your lips, waiting for you respond, and you cave in an instant and open your mouth to fully taste him. The remnants of wine and fruit from his lunch linger in his mouth, and the tastes are richer than anything you’d ever had access too before. He whines slightly at the feeling becoming enthralled with your mouth and softly guiding you to lean back against the now dewy grass. You follow his lead, stretching your legs beneath him as he straddles you, lips never leaving your own. This doesn’t last long however before he pulls away, asking if you’re okay as he lays himself atop your body and guides your legs to wrap around his waist. You nod in an instant, hastily pulling him back to you. This pulls forth more prominent groans from his throat as his lips venture to press open-mouthed kissed to your jawline. You open your eyes for a second to watch him move to your neck, before immediately scrunching them back closed when you feel him sucking on your skin. Unsure of what to do with your hands you reach down to grip at his hair, though he grabs hold of your wrist before you get the chance to tug.  

“I must be presentable for dinner with my father tonight.” Xavier reminds you, and you let out a breathless laugh at the thought. He tightly clasps both of your hands together above your head between one of his own, fingers cold yet strong whilst holding you in place. He kisses your upper arm, letting out a sigh and opening his eyes to look at you below him, already completely wrecked. There is something wild and unfamiliar in his expression, even with only half of his face visible in the light of the nearby oil lamp as it grows dimmer over time. He reluctantly lets go of your wrists to feel your waist and chest, imparting only the softest of touches before moving your arms over his shoulders. You run your hands over his upper back and grip onto the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling it up slightly to feel the buttery skin of his lower back. 

You are interrupted by the sound of Xavier's name being shouted from the woods, and quickly reach for the lamp to extinguish it, breaths heavy and eyes wide. He shushes you while standing and offering you a hand to help you up, before guiding you behind the great tree. He adjusts himself and calls out a haphazard “I’m coming now”, before reluctantly walking towards the clearing. He makes it over to his minders but turns back, telling them he’d forgotten something after falling asleep. They dismiss him with a sigh, arms folded and posture trying but failing to intimidate him. He rushes back to the tree and grabs hold of the brass handle of the oil lamp. When he is certain he is out of view, he hooks it between your trembling fingers to leave it with you. 

“Please find your way home safely in the dark.” You press another kiss to his lips as a thank you, hoping that he’d hurry back to his minders before he gets in trouble, though as the crown prince you suppose he is always in trouble. He smiles in return. 

“I love you.” Xavier turns and begins walking back before you can respond, hoping you managed to hear him over the sound of the crickets. 

[deardearestbrandsnews2025]

Chapter X: The Colors in the Wind

Bambi sat cross-legged before Grandmother Willow, his hooves settled into the soft moss of the island’s center. The great tree’s gnarled branches twisted like ancient hands pointing toward the heavens, her face emerging from the bark with a wisdom older than any living creature in Thee Forest Kingdom. Pocahontas knelt beside him, her long, raven hair brushing against her shoulders as she stirred the air with her fingertips.

“You are listening, but not hearing,” she said, her voice a river’s gentle lull.

Bambi exhaled sharply. “I hear everything. The wind, the trees, even the water around us.”

Kate Bishop, leaning against the gondola where Dreamer kept watch, smirked. “Yeah, and yet you still don’t get it.”

Vanessa Hudgens tapped her fingers against her knee, watching as Dani Moonstar picked up a fallen leaf. “It’s not just listening with your ears,” Dani said. “It’s feeling it. The way it moves through you, how it carries memory.”

FlowerLily, adorned in Neverland’s sacred beads, nodded solemnly. “The wind is a living thing, Bambi. It has stories, whispers, songs. You don’t force it. You let it take you where it wills.”

Grandmother Willow chuckled, a sound like rustling leaves. “You’re trying to conquer it, my dear. But one does not conquer the wind. One dances with it.”

Bambi frowned, glancing at his reflection in the water. He saw not just himself, but the weight of his bloodline—the fire of Rudolf, the ghost of the Evil Queen’s words, and the looming storm that had only just been vanquished.

“Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s try again.”

[Chapter X: part2 A broad breath 'Colors Of The Wind' guest starring 'Vanessa Hudgends']

Chapter X: The Colors in the Wind - Expanded

Bambi sat at the edge of the small clearing, his body tense and his eyes closed, his breathing deep and slow. The wind swirled around him, brushing against his fur, tugging at the delicate leaves scattered across the ground. He was trying to feel it—really feel it. But it was like trying to catch the breeze with his hooves, something that slipped through his grasp every time he thought he had a hold of it.

“Close your eyes, Bambi,” Grandmother Willow’s voice floated from above, a low murmur like the rustling of ancient leaves. “Listen not with your ears, but with your heart.”

Bambi’s eyes fluttered open. “I hear it,” he replied, frustration creeping into his voice. “I hear everything—the wind, the trees, the river nearby. I can’t focus.”

Kate Bishop, sitting at the edge of the clearing, raised an eyebrow. “You hear everything and understand nothing.”

“Let him try, Kate,” Vanessa Hudgens said softly, her eyes thoughtful. “It’s not about forcing it. The wind listens as much as it carries.”

Bambi exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as he closed his eyes again, trying to block out the other voices. He felt the wind graze his skin, cool and lively, carrying whispers that swirled in his mind, but nothing made sense.

Pocahontas stepped forward, her presence calm, grounded, like the earth itself. “The wind doesn’t speak with words, Bambi. It speaks with feelings. It carries history, emotions—things you can’t see with your eyes.”

He looked up at her, his brow furrowing. “How do I feel it? It’s... too much. There’s no pattern.”

Dani Moonstar, sitting cross-legged on a nearby boulder, spoke with quiet confidence. “It’s not about finding the pattern, Bambi. It’s about becoming part of the wind. Let it flow through you. Feel it without trying to control it.” She held up a small stone, watching it as it glinted in the sunlight. “Like this stone. It travels where the wind takes it. You can’t predict it, but you can understand it.”

FlowerLily, who had been weaving a crown of flowers, smiled gently. “Let go of what you think you know. The colors in the wind don’t have to make sense. They are the essence of being, not the art of thinking.”

Bambi’s gaze lingered on FlowerLily’s hands as she worked, the vibrant flowers seeming to hum with an energy all their own. He let out a breath, focusing again on the wind. It was warm against his face, like the touch of an old friend, but there was a sense of danger mixed within it, a tinge of something he couldn’t name. The thoughts swirled in his mind—like fragments of forgotten dreams—too scattered to grasp.

Grandmother Willow’s voice came again, softer now. “You try too hard, Bambi. You want control, but the wind does not belong to you. You must become as the wind. You are the wind, and it is you.”

The realization hit him like a sudden gust. He wasn’t meant to understand the wind with his mind—he had to feel it, to become its rhythm, to surrender to its chaos. But how could he do that when his thoughts were tangled in the mysteries of his bloodline and the battles that still loomed ahead?

Pocahontas moved closer, sitting beside him on the ground. “You can’t fight it, Bambi. The wind, like your spirit, is free. It does not answer to force—it flows and shifts, and it teaches those who let go of their need for control.”

Bambi’s mind wandered to the chaos of the past months—the Thunder God King’s fall, the darkness that lingered. The weight of his bloodline’s legacy pressed on him. He was Bambi, but he was also something else. A king, a warrior. A hero.

But he didn’t feel like one. Not yet.

Grandmother Willow’s voice shifted, calm and knowing. “The colors in the wind are not about the battles you’ve fought, or the ones you will. They are the path you walk, Bambi. The wind’s colors are all the moments of your life, the choices you make. It doesn’t matter where you come from—it matters where you go.”

Kate Bishop’s voice broke the quiet moment. “This isn’t something you can just ‘fix,’ Bambi. It’s a journey. You don’t master it overnight. We all have our battles. But the real strength? It’s in the letting go. In trusting the wind.”

Vanessa nodded

, her eyes softening as she added, “What you feel right now, that struggle—it’s part of the process. We’ve all been there. Every warrior, every fighter. It’s the price of becoming who you need to be.”

Bambi stood up slowly, his hooves sinking into the earth as he took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings bubbling inside him—the storm of doubt, the gnawing hunger for something more, something that had yet to come. But as he exhaled, he felt the wind stir once again, brushing past him as if it were acknowledging him, inviting him in.

For the first time, Bambi smiled, a small, tentative thing, but real. The wind wasn’t something to be conquered. It was something to become.

He turned to Pocahontas, who offered him a soft smile of encouragement.

“I’m ready,” he said, his voice steady.

Pocahontas nodded, and together, they stood. “Then let’s begin.”

As they stood in the clearing, surrounded by the whispering trees, the wind swirled around them, and Bambi felt something shift within him. Maybe he hadn’t fully mastered the colors in the wind. But he was no longer struggling against it. He was learning to dance with it.

The true magic, Bambi realized, wasn’t in the control of the wind—it was in the freedom to be one with it. And perhaps, that was what he had been searching for all along.

End of Chapter X: The Colors in the Wind - Expanded

Let me know if you'd like to elaborate more on any of the interactions or dive deeper into the training process!

Chapter XI: The Frog Princess’ Arrival

Snow dusted the fortress walls as the last remnants of winter clung to Thee Forest Kingdom. The gates, standing tall and weary, had seen too much war, too much sorrow. But as dawn’s first light stretched across the battlements, a sound—deep, rolling, like the heartbeat of the earth—grew louder.

Princess Tiana’s Frog Army had arrived.

The first to see them was Deery Lou, perched atop the watchtower. His wide eyes sparkled in awe as the procession emerged from the mist, golden banners fluttering, the rhythm of drums carrying the pulse of magic through the land.

At the head of the army, Princess Tiana rode with regal grace. Her dark curls shimmered under the light of her tiara, her emerald cloak billowing behind her. Beside her, shadowed figures moved in perfect unison—warriors, mystics, keepers of ancient swamp magic. The air around them crackled, alive with the scent of sacred herbs, the hum of forgotten spells.

Snow White and Rose Red White stood at the gates, their battle-worn armor gleaming. Rose’s hand instinctively hovered over the hilt of her blade, but Snow placed a gentle hand on her wrist. “This is not an enemy,” she whispered. “This is salvation.”

As Tiana dismounted, the ground beneath her trembled—not in fear, but in anticipation. With a slow, deliberate movement, she pressed her hands into the frozen earth. A hush fell over the fortress.

Then, like breath returning to a lifeless body, the land changed.

The frost melted away, replaced by lush, thriving marshland. Towering cypress trees erupted from the barren soil, their roots sinking deep into the earth. Vines twisted up the fortress walls, not as chains but as veins of rebirth. Flowers—impossible, sacred, alive with a glow that defied the laws of nature—bloomed in an instant.

Bambi, watching from the training grounds, felt his breath hitch. This was no mere magic. This was resurrection.

Chapter XII: A Kingdom Rejoices

By nightfall, the fortress was no longer a battleground but a sanctuary. Fires burned bright, casting golden hues over faces once worn with grief. The people of Thee Forest Kingdom gathered—Thumper and Little Forest Fellow swapping stories, Humming Mint dancing in quiet joy, Deery Lou laughing as he weaved between the revelers.

Princess Tiana stood with Snow White and Rose Red White, sipping from a goblet of enchanted nectar. “You fought well,” she told them. “You held the line when no one else could.”

“And yet,” Snow mused, “it was you who brought the land back to life.”

Tiana smiled. “Magic alone didn’t do this. Hope did.”

Bambi, standing apart from the crowd, watched the celebration with quiet contemplation. Pocahontas approached, tilting her head. “You’re thinking too much again.”

He exhaled a small laugh. “I suppose I am.”

“Something still troubles you.”

He turned to her, eyes reflecting the flickering flames. “We won this battle. But something tells me the storm hasn’t passed.”

Pocahontas followed his gaze to the horizon, where the wind whispered secrets only the trees could hear.

“Then we listen,” she said. “And we prepare.”

And as the laughter of Thee Forest Kingdom echoed into the night, the wind carried a new whisper—one not of war, but of destiny.

Chapter XIII: The Gathering of the Elders

In the days that followed the Frog Princess’ arrival, the kingdom stood in awe of its transformation. The once-petrified land now pulsed with life, and yet, beneath the beauty, a sense of quiet urgency remained.

A summons was sent across the lands. Elders, warriors, and sages from every corner of the kingdom gathered within the Grand Hall of the Chrysalis Fortress. Bambi, Tiana, Snow White, Pocahontas, and the many heroes of the battle sat in a great circle, their expressions solemn.

Grandmother Willow’s ancient voice broke the silence. “The land has healed, but scars remain. What was taken cannot be forgotten.”

Dani Moonstar nodded. “The Thunder God King may have fallen, but the power that once fueled him is still out there.”

Tiana placed a map on the table, its edges marked with symbols of old magic. “The swamps whisper of unrest in the south. Something stirs beneath the waters.”

Kate Bishop leaned forward, arms crossed. “Then we don’t wait for the storm to come to us. We prepare.”

Bambi, still quiet, met Pocahontas’ gaze. He thought of the wind, the lessons he was still struggling to grasp. And yet, something told him that he would need them soon.

Grandmother Willow’s leaves shuddered in the unseen breeze. “A new trial awaits, my children.”

And so, the next chapter of Thee Forest Kingdom began.

[bonefall]

Do you have a list of bb!characters names in clanmew? Because I want to translate some of the names, but I don’t know which ones have been done yet.

I did not have a list! But, for you, I've gone ahead and compiled the ones I have thus far.

I definitely missed a couple of them, but here's 60 translations

Littlecloud = Eebhai ("Little Fat Cloud," a name that was a bit ironic because Littlecloud is a VERY skinny cat. It was given by Nightstar, in the hopes of receiving a blessing.)

Harespring = Yywayayiaoyr (Hare + Will jump up. Invokes a hare that thinks before it leaps)

Mistyfoot = Sooheffepab (Morning mist, refers to the dewey haze of morning, given by Oakheart because he collected her in the morning + Pad, as 'foot' often ends up absorbing a lot of unique suffixes for paw-related parts)

Tangleburr = Mwuprkido (Mwupr = Tangle, twist, knot, Kido = burrs, but also any plant debris that gets lodged in fur)

Patchpelt = Chafaborrl (Patch as in a grouping of similar vegetation. Patchkit and Leopardkit were twin names likely to invoke the image of a leopard hiding in grass as a reference to an old LeopardClan story)

Torear = Hssbupira (Hssbup, Small, rocky outcrop in moorlands that protects one from the wind + Ira, Ear )

Mudclaw = Mulpkach (Mud that is still wet, but not sticky or dangerous, rain mud. + Claw)

Whitewater = Osksrosha (Osk = Color white + Rosha = Sloshing water)

One-eye = Mwiskpi (Mwisk = Missing, Lost, + Pi. Lost-Seeing/Hearing)

Stemleaf = Prryemruss (Prryem refer to the beginning of any plant, where it springs from the ground. It was widely agreed this name is... A Choice, on Bramblestar's behalf)

Stumptail = Borgswash (Borg = Refers to ANY cut cylinder with a flattened top. Original translation, Stumpy, was an accidental translation of a pun as the translator did not know he was born this way, and ergo does not have a cut tail.)

Barkface = Karakbauss (Karak refers to thick, rough bark. Not the type that can be peeled off willows and made into string)

Breezepelt = Hrra'aborrl (A wind that pauses and then picks up pace + pelt)

Nightcloud = Oogarhai (All nighttime hours, from vesper to twilight + fat cloud)

Bayshine = Wawashem (RiverClan and WindClan think this is a weird name, because of an interesting dialect difference between Shadow/Thunder and River/Wind. They think it should be 'Sawawashem')

Thriftear = Paharlira (Paharl is an ancient Lake word, shared with Ivypool by Midnight. Thrift is a hardy species that grows by the ocean.)

Fernsong = Nanyananya (Fern + Yanana, Singing)

Jayfeather = Arkrbufr (Arkr = Screech Eurasian Jay + Bufr, a large feather from a tail or wing)

Downkit = Fuffrmew (Fuffr, soft, small feathers from the chest and body.)

Crowfoot = Rawkpwyyar (Rawk = Carrion Crow Corvus corone)

Redtail = Reyswash (Rey = Yew berry, blood red)

Graystripe = Urrnseek (Urrn = Stormy-gray. Seek = A long, thick stripe)

Brindlewing = Sipbeof (Sip = A short, thin stripe. Beof = A Feathered Wing; Beof is a Tribe word)

Needletail = Nyypswash (Nyyp = The leaf of a pine, but also means a 'harmless thorn.' Something that looks sharp but is actually quite soft.)

Thornclaw = Nakkach

Owlwhisker (Barn Owl) = Weearhussk (Barn Owl)

Owlclaw = Huokach (Eagle Owl)

Hootwhisker = Hrrua'uhussk (Tawny Owl)

Dovewing = Hrrubeof (Rock pigeon + wing)

Briarlight: Pik'kashayu (Shayu is any light source, from which light comes. A sun, stars, bioluminescent things)

Brightheart: Yaywibabun (Intense Heartbeating. Bright is a word about intensity, it means saturated colors, blinding lights, and overwhelming beauty)

Troutstream = Powshshush (Trout was probably named in reverence of the fact there were suddenly trout in the water again; Trout are an indicator species of river health and the River Chell was fucked for several years)

Birchfall = Pyachfew (Downy birch + Fallen)

Birchface = Byachbauss (Silver birch + Face)

Iceheart = Skyyfskababi (Frozen heart + will beat.)

Meltpelt = Bmubborrl (Melting + Pelt. Could also be used to describe being uncomfortably hot, but cats only sweat on their feet)

Ratscar = Eepyach (Black Rat + Scar)

Frostfur = Chikifaf (Frost + Fur)

Snowbird = Sonchpigu (Sound of snow crunching + Generic Songbird)

Scorchfur = Fifkarfaf (Burned + fur)

Lionblaze = Raorgabrrl (Lion + Crackling, refers to fire "eating" tinder, causing it to crack)

Slatefur = Pyabfaf (Slab/Flat Stone + Fur)

Poolcloud = Slofhai (Pool + Cloud)

Toadskip = Amampipip (Common Toad + Bouncing)

Nettlespot = Pokalowo (Stinging Nettle + Circle )

Spotfur = Owofaf (Refers to a single big spot she has on one side)

Tawnyspots = Pyowaposnya (Light brown color + Spotting)

Oakstar = Byochshai (Oak + Star)

Frecklewish = Husswo'shaba (Spots where the whiskers connect + Prayer)

Houndleap = Bayaolu (VERY large dog that howls + will jump)

Stagleap = Aayoolu (Adult Male Red Deer/Cervus elaphus + will jump)

Doefeather = Maa'arfrif (Muntjac + Feather)

Deerfoot = Augpwyyarr (Antlerless red deer + foot)

Deerleap = Augluar (Antlerless red deer + Jumping)

Fawnstep = Myaapab (Baby deer + Will walk)

Spiketail = Kikswash (Spine + Tail)

Cypresspaw = Pfufohpwyr (Pussywillow + Toebean)

Fireheart = Kafyarbabun (Wildfire + Heartbeat)

Squirrelflight = Pishkafsheek (Red squirrel + Soaring like a bird of prey)

Hallowflight = Shahafniooaw (Holy/Healing/Redemption + Flew like a swift, a hard one to translate into English)

[coconuttyglittersmurf]

The Smurfs: A New Touch Of Blue synopsis thread Part 8

AKA The Stolen Portrait

Painter's greatest painting has been stolen and all the Smurfs are looking for it. While the artist is in despair, Smurfette confuses the culprit for Gargamel.

AKA The Star Smurf

When nobody wants to listen to Harmony's dreadful music, Papa Smurf gives him a potion to charm his audience. However, Harmony forces the dose and the Smurfs turn into hysterical fans.

The Guru Smurf AKA Baby Sensei

Smurfette and her class of Smurf-Fu students mistake Baby Smurf as their Smurf-Fu guru who will guide them to the next level.

AKA The Magic Pumpkin

On Halloween, Smurfette (Cassandra) gives Weakling Smurf a magic pumpkin to help him scare the other Smurfs, only the pumpkin isn't actually magic at all.

AKA Lost Cat AKA All Creatures Great And Smurf 2.0

Azrael has had enough of Gargamel and leaves the hovel! Only, once in the forest, he gets injured and is picked up by Wild, who brings the cat to the Smurfs' Village to heal.

The Ghost of Papa Smurf AKA Brainy Gets Ghosted!

Brainy Smurf is busy helping prepare for an event in which Papa Smurf is going to perform. Only, he wants to control everything so much that he horrifies everyone, including Papa Smurf. At the end of their tether, Painter and Chef Smurf prepare a prank that is supposed to keep Brainy Smurf at bay… but it backfires!

When Brainy's controlling nature gets under the Smurfs' skin, Painter Smurf and Chef Smurf come up with the ultimate prank.

Gagargamel AKA Gargamel Goes Gaga

Because of an inadvertently absorbed love potion, Gargamel falls madly in love with Leaf and no longer wants to leave her. The Smurfs come to the rescue of the fairy to rid her of her suitor. Only love doesn't disappear in a snap, and Hefty Smurf is well placed to know it…

On Valentine's Day, After accidentally consuming a love potion, Gargamel falls in love with Leaf and doesn’t want to leave her side.

The Pumpkin Rally AKA Smurf Racers

During the first mixed pumpkin rally, Hefty Smurf, undisputed champion of previous editions, shows off like a macho, much to the annoyance of Stormy, who is determined to show him that a girl can beat him. But both Hefty Smurf and Stormy have a totally uncompetitive teammate: Blossom and Dimwitty. Blinded by their desire to win, the two rivals engage in a fierce battle while Gargamel and Azrael infiltrate the race to finally locate the Smurfs' village…

Hefty and Storm get competitive at the pumpkin rally, but their less motivated teammates might hold them back.

Rock'n Smurf AKA Who's in the Band?

The Smurf Orchestra is to give a concert in Willow's honor for her birthday. But when Slammy (Jazzy), the singer and leader of the group, behaves like a diva, he is replaced by… another diva: Vanity Smurf! Slammy (Jazzy) is determined the concert won't happen without him, and nearly ruins Willow's birthday. Finally realizing the absurdity of his behavior, Slammy (Jazzy) will have to find a way to save the concert… without playing the divas.

When the Smurf Band’s lead singer acts like a diva, the band accidentally replaces him with another diva: Vanity!

Snails on Strike AKA The Snail Whisperer

Tired of their life of toil, the snails of Farmer Smurf go on strike and join Wild Smurf to share his free and unconstrained life. Stunned, Farmer Smurf tries everything he can to make them come to their senses, but nothing works, his snails stick to Wild Smurf. Only, they lost an essential thing when they left the farm, something that only Farmer Smurf can give them…

Farmer's snails are tired of their life of toil and decide to go on strike and join Wild for a life of freedom.

[thethreefaes]

“I may have a way to see where your little one it.” She glanced at Altair before taking a deep breath of her own. Lyra had to calm her own panic to focus. She rolled up her sleeve to expose her arm.

“Lilias seó Treasa.” Her voice was soft but clear. Concentrating on her magic the gold vines and leaves appeared on her arm. A new leaf with runes was there now nestled between Hiccup and Astrid’s. But as the magic swirled on her arm, her eyes glazed over. Flashes of where Zeph was and what she was seeing. Flowers, sun and… Sure enough, a vision of Kiara crossed her gaze before the magic faded. Lyra hissed and held her head, the vines fading away as well.

“Kia… Kiara has her. They’re in her circle.” Lyra rubbed her eyes and blinked to clear her vision. At least now they knew where to go. Stars. Lyra was not going to save Kia from the angry parents. She had been told so many times that fae traditions were different from human. Ugh… and now she had a headache.

“Go find your heart mate. Tell Astrid you know where Zephyr is so you both can go give Kiara a piece of your mind. I’ll follow.” She just had to let the dizziness fade. Picking up a piece of willow bark she chewed it. Altair huffed and nudging them towards the door.

There was so much to get done. Kiara strolled through Berk as she thought over her long list. With Lyra and Ash’s courtship officially onto the betrothal step, the fae had to make sure everything would be perfect for her sister. Oh! And then there was the little star that had captured everyone’s hearts. Astrid and Hiccup’s little Zephyr was in need of some spoiling. Lyra could not stop talking about when she watched over the baby and Kiara was feeling a bit jealous.

Stopping at the chief’s home for a little visit would be a nice break from all her work. She knocked softly, not wanting to risk waking the little one if she was napping, but no sound met her ears. Were they not home? Well she could leave Zephyr’s new clothes for her. Walking in silently the fae had to fight back a chuckle.

Sitting on the couch, cuddled together were Astrid and Hiccup. Both parents sound asleep. Zephyr must have had a rough night. Speak of… Kiara moved around the couch to see two bright blue eyes staring up at her. Zephyr was very much awake between her parents. She lifted her arms up to Kia. And really? Who was she to deny that face?

Carefully the fae extracted the baby from her nest. Kia hushing the giggling girl. The chief and chieftess needed some rest. She would take little Zeph for a while. Taking the new little cloak she’d made for the baby, Kiara dressed her and carried her out of the house.

“We will let your parents rest. I believe a little cutie like you will enjoy a little flight. Oh, and I can show you some magic.” Kiara continued to speak low to her little charge as she headed out of Berk and towards her circle.

@dragonmasterhiccup

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts. 

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame. 

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo​ card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67​ because she’s the best. 

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.  

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl. 

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.” 

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly. 

“I have three PhDs!”  

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.” 

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that. 

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off. 

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him. 

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact. 

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.” 

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —” 

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree. 

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.” 

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! In fact…” 

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring. 

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.  

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place. 

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months. 

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again. 

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly. 

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV. 

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees. 

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed. 

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.” 

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space. 

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this. 

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again. 

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?” 

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.” 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.” 

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.” 

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you. 

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and — 

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking. 

— what? 

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.” 

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge. 

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it. 

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.” 

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater. 

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?” 

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible. 

“You’re… you…what?” 

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged. 

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.” 

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle. 

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features. 

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.” 

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?” 

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss. 

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”  

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away. 

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. 

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.  

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.  

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.  

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered. 

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.” 

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed. 

“I thought you were doing that.”  

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” 

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —” 

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.” 

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.” 

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.” 

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched. 

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action. 

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air. 

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.” 

“So you didn’t know…” 

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw. 

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Intense.”  

“Yeah?” 

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.” 

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.” 

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…” 

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed. 

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache. 

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—” 

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.” 

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening. 

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say. 

.

.

There is now a sexy follow-up here! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

[lumisfiction]

Just For Tonight

Kakashi x Black Reader

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kishimoto, gif not mine found on the internet.

Warning: Black Reader Insert, fluff

Part 1

****Part Two*****

Y/n’s house was the most enchanting place in all the Hidden Leaf, four miles into a secluded forest lay a stone path with handcrafted lanterns along it. The forest that surrounded it was filled with every color of wild flower that Kakashi had ever seen. It was as if he was no longer in the village, like he’d stepped into another world, y/n’s world. A world of fireflies, sun flowers, moon flowers, roses of every color, and lilies. A pastel painting with a deep green undertone of the entire forest. All around him were arches, tall trees with branches that entwined with evening birds perched on them singing their evening hymn. The dim light of moon peaking through illuminating the walk way. If it hadn't been for Sasuke and Naruto he would have never found this place.

Tugging eagerly at his vest Naruto guided him farther until they came to a large clearing. The moon and stars were brighter as it reflected on the surface of the small pond in front of them. It seemed all matter of creatures came out tonight in celebration of y/n, the sounds around him growing louder. A pleasant loudness that blended with the atmosphere of the pond and on its surface glowing lotuses glided past. Naruto reached down and picked one up, crystal liquid pooling over his small fingers. Kakashi watches as its blue light dimly lights the boy's youthful face. He looked his age then, like a child who held the most precious thing in the world. “These are her favorite” cupping it delicately Naruto presented his hands to him. “I know you came last minute Kakashi sensei, you can bring this as a gift” Naruto grinned a mischievous glint in his eye. “A gift” Kakashi scratched the back of his neck, painfully aware of his unpreparedness. In his haste to cheer Naruto up he’d forgotten that he just returned from a mission. His clothes were dirty and his hair was grimy. “I think a gift is the least of my concern” Kakashi pulled at his filthy pants, he could fill the dirt under his fingernails. He thought about y/n then how pretty she would look and her face when she saw him. It would be their first official meeting and this is what she’ll see. Her first impressions forever skewered by his dirty attire. It made his hands tremble and he felt heat rush throughout his body, a nervousness swelling somewhere deep within him. Nervous to meet y/n, like a school boy who finally gets to spend time with his crush.

Sasuke looked behind him observing a riled up Kakashi. Even in the moonlight and a half exposed face he knew exactly what his tinted cheeks meant. “She shouldn’t be home yet, you can freshen up once we get there” his arms practically spilling over with an assortment of flowers. Kakashi looked over at Sasuke sighing, was he that easy to read? How long has it been since he was social? Was he so out of touch that he couldn't even manage to hide his emotions from a prepubescent boy.

His mind wandered off again as he began to contemplate his decision to attend. It was all too sudden, what if he made of a fool of himself? Or worse what if he isn't welcomed? Thoughts were spinning around and round his head so much so that a scowl returned to his face and his exposed brow scrunched. His inner conflict occupied all of his attention so much so he hadn't noticed Sasuke making kissing noises. Not until the boy began to tease him childishly.

"Kakashi and y/n sitting in a tree k.i.s.s.i.n.g" Sasuke relentlessly teased Kakashi with a child-like twinkle in his eyes. It was perplexing, the cool headed vengeful Sasuke was the polar opposite of his former self. Laughing and smiling as he bent down to pick even more flowers along the water. Stopping to look them over and disregard the flowers he no longer wanted.

It was so out of character for him that Kakashi hadn't noticed he was gawking. “He always brings her freshly picked flowers” Naruto came into view with a smug look on his face. Kakashi hadn’t noticed until tonight how different with her in their life they had become. How both of them practically morphed into children right before his eyes. Naruto was feather light and cheerful while Sasuke was playful, thoughtful, and happy. They look so innocent he almost forgot they were shinobi, genin who’d soon participate in the chunin exams. He recounted to himself a time when he looked like them. When he too was happy and innocent. Just a boy and his father.

All of them fell in a silent stride as they began walking again. Crossing over a small bridge that brought them to their destination at last. Willow trees and what seemed like a thousand fireflies greeted them. There at the foot of the path stood the most beautiful wooden arch with yellow flowers twisting around it's bark. Dangling loosely from it a chipped wooden sign that read "Happy Birthday y/n. “I made that” Naruto’s face gleamed with all the pride of a not so masterful craftsman as he pointed his finger in the direction of if. Sasuke scoffed as he remarked how tacky he thought it looked. With an ego as big as his competition he stated how much better his lanterns were in comparison. Naruto glared at Sasuke, his eyes sharp as he retaliated with an insult of his own. There was no end to it, both of them going on and on about what y/n liked best. It was driving Kakashi a little crazy, having to go on missions with their insistent contest was one thing, but this was a whole other sort of annoying. The kind that made him so irritated that all the cool level headed temperament in the world couldn’t prevent the annoyed look on his face. He thought about home and his warm recliner. The green hardback book that he so often read to indulge his perverted mind. The faint feeling of heat coursing throughout his slightly reddening cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and stick to his original plan. A plan that didn't involve two rowdy brats.

The house was a deep oak red with hints of a darker brown. It was large with a stairway above it that led to a smaller house. It had flags and a large telescope pointing toward the eastern sky.

The entire estate was homely and welcoming, the yard embedded with an even more alluring green. Fresh cut grass and lanterns that spread about it illuminating everything in its path. Nothing could make this scene before him more stunning he thought to himself as he looked all around in awe.

She descended from the steps, the most beautiful sight of all, Y/n. Her raven coils shining in the moonlight and her skin glistening like the surface of a smooth diamond. She was most certainly magical, the tail of her white dress flowing behind her when she walked a smooth glide only a goddess would have.

"Y/n" as fast as their feet would carry them Naruto and Sasuke ran to her open arms ruining her pretty dress even though she didn't seem to mind. She embraced them with a hug that only a mother would give her beloved children. When they parted Sasuke was the first to present his gift, a bouquet of wild flowers "Happy Birthday y/n". Her face lit up as she leaned over to kiss his exposed forehead and his face become even more redder than before.

From the distance where Kakashi stood he saw the pearls her pretty teeth, her full lips lifting the bones of her cheeks. The way her breast sat prettily in her clothes and the playful glint in her almond eyes. She seemed to get prettier as he came closer and his eye drifted downward and then up again taking in her full form. All of his former reservations escaped him,his heart thudding in his chest as he made his way closer. Yes, Just for tonight he'll indulge himself.

Author Notes: Trying to decide if this should just be a three part or more series. Next chapter will be released soon and it will contain light smut. Thank you for all your support!

[caspermhahn]

Are you sure you wouldn't like to run? A game of tag, perhaps? All we have is time, you know. An eternity of time. Or shall we end it? Might as well. After all, we're missing the party. ― Stephen King, The Shining

tw: blood, suggestive violence, drug mention, hallucinations, weapon mentions: @marcellabelanades, the hahn family, unknown sire

Hours had passed— or maybe just moments, since he and Marcella had split away from the grand ballroom to find themselves astray in the garden’s overgrowth. A usual occurrence when it came to the couple, who would often bid an Irish goodbye to feel as though they were alone among his family’s woodland edged property. So much of the masquerade had brought up those memories as they waltzed, the swamplands being their native soil and was a place the two had not just met but blossomed into more. Bittersweet, a majority of them felt that way as his past had been tethered to his witchcraft and the necromancer’s own. Along with his family and sometimes found that he now missed the things he would then drag his feet about. Though Casper had discovered quite a bit of silver-lining in all of it, the transition and new patterns he forged, and the visage of the faerie realm and new ethos were starting to rest in the daily habits of Rome.

But the twilight of the night sky, brilliant shades of pinks and purples that faded into the mixed blues, was more than a pleasant distraction as the reflection bounced onto his partner’s eyes. Despite all the curveballs that kept flying towards the recently changed vampire, he’d remained optimistic, and showed that rose-tinted outlook in the curvature of his lips before gently planting them on hers. There was never a need to say anything, Casper had been infatuated with the witch since the moment he saw her picking mushrooms on his family's property. He’d thought at first she was an apparition, spirits were known to gravitate towards the abundance of magic surrounding his home or inhabit the local bayou just behind. Then she revealed her name and even his mother had to do a double-take, though that might have been the official moment Angeline attached herself to the witch who currently harbored herself in the thickets and tall grasses. Deathless, undying, everlasting. Maybe those would have been the appropriate words if they were at all needed, masks soon abandoned along with the extravagant attire, the magnetism of it all engulfing them completely.

— — — —

The Pluto vampire could lay there for the rest of his immortality in this state of nirvana. Even without his partner by his side, though preferred, there was just this sense of complete euphoria he’d always longed for. How could he forget the times that he was living in the sweltering, muggy and mosquito infested swamplands; his body positioned similar to this exact one as he attempted to see a world beyond his plane of existence. Surrounded by the start of his father’s yard decoration that encroached on the late summer and early fall blooms his mother worked so hard on each year. A sea of prairie blazing star, creeping liriope, and sunset huskmallow in his view that reminds him of the scene in Alice in Wonderland where she is among all the flowers who speak to her. Yet instead of just bundles of willow leaf sunflower and black-eyed susans, magically carved pumpkins and animated skeletons haphazardly littered the space. The cracking sound just a few feet away snapped him into realization that he was no longer recounting a memory, but back in the bayou. His home, with all its familiar smells and sounds. But that didn’t quite make sense, Casper had just been in the greenery of the fae and not his mothers— hadn’t he?

Lurching up, emerald irises bouncing around as the vampire adorned a look of confusion, Casper noticed the silhouette of his father perched on his family's southern-style wrap around porch. Was this real? Casper had experienced his fair share of delusions and elixir induced fantasies, but there was something about this one that just hit different. This had all the make-up of a nightmare and he couldn’t help the chuckle that flooded from his lips, practically feeling validated for all the times he had referenced his existence in the natural world as his film inspiration. Certainly the silhouette wasn’t Cortney, even if it did sound like him, the former witch’s gut boiled with alarm that told him otherwise. Pumpkin guts splattered across the dark walnut stained deck that shifted to pools of blood as the stranger in sheep's clothing positioned the once embedded hatchet in a way that only suggested one thing; run like hell.

Cypresses and oak trees swoosh past him as his vampire instincts fully take over, irises peeking slightly behind himself in order to see if the stranger was still at his heels, only to notice the sheen of blood in his view. How could they keep up? Casper was no longer a witch testing his illusion magic in the backwaters of Louisiana, but somehow he sensed he was back there in those moments of becoming someone else’s prey and each direction seeming to lead him towards a dead end without much hope for an escape.

[redux-iterum]

List of Suffixes

Note: This list may be subject to change as the story goes on, or as alterations are made from suggestions and critiques. 

Suffixes come in four categories: Status (defining a cat's rank in the Clan), Skill (referring to something the cat excels in), Personality (summarizing the cat’s overall demeanor and attitude), and Appearance (generally describing the cat’s physical attributes). These are listed in highest to lowest priority - meaning, naming after a cat’s status comes before naming for a skill, which comes before personality suffixes, with appearance being the last category considered for a name. As such, the possible suffixes will be listed according to their tiers. 

Note that there are occasionally exceptions, as leaders may give a name that stands out from the rest of what is average for their particular Clan (for example, if there aren’t many -heart cats but plenty of -whisker cats, the leader may name the warrior -heart instead). That being said, the tiers are so commonly upheld that the lists below are considered the standard for all warriors. 

Tier One: Status

-kit: A cat younger than two seasons, or who has not yet become an apprentice. 

-paw: A cat two seasons or older who has not yet graduated into warriorhood. 

-star: The leader of a Clan. 

-

Tier Two: Skill

-bark/-branch: An archaic suffix for a skilled climber of trees. Hardly in use nowadays. 

-claw: An impressive fighter, skilled in the art of combat. 

-fang: A cat that is above average in ability when it comes to both fighting and hunting. Usually not skilled enough to earn either of those respective suffixes, but always markedly better in both than a normal cat. 

-foot: A particularly fast cat, good at sprinting and/or endurance running. 

-leg: A cat that is above average in both climbing and running. Generally not a candidate for either of those nameable skills, but certainly noteworthy in those areas. 

-nose: A cat skilled in tracking and/or foraging. 

-root: An archaic suffix for a skilled tunneler. Because actively tunneling has died out, this suffix is almost never used in the modern day. 

-shade: A very stealthy cat, good at sneaking around unnoticed. 

-stream: A skilled, graceful swimmer and/or fisher. Rarely used as the aquatic version of -whisker. 

-tail: A dexterous and agile cat, good at climbing, jumping, and/or balancing. 

-whisker: A highly successful hunter, whether in a couple different environments or all throughout the territories. 

-feather/-light/-stone/-leaf: A prodigious seer, strongly connected to StarClan and easily able to pick up their signs and receive dreams from them. This suffix changes depending on the Clan; -feather belongs to RiverClan, -light to WindClan, -stone to ShadowClan, and -leaf to ThunderClan. 

-

Tier Three: Personality

-belly: A jovial, upbeat cat. Quick with a joke or witty remark to keep the mood light and merry. 

-cloud: A calm, serene and/or gentle cat. Hard to rile up and good at soothing tension in others. 

-dawn/-dusk: A diligent and very loyal cat; often said to be deputy material. This suffix changes depending on the Clan - RiverClan and WindClan use -dawn, while ThunderClan and ShadowClan use -dusk. 

-fall: A cat who emulates their elemental or tree-based prefix. This can be in appearance (Willow- being lithe and having long, drooping fur) or behavior (Hail- being rough and loud) or both (Sycamore- being huge and incredibly sturdy in temperament and build). 

-flight: A cat who behaves similarly to their bird-based prefix. 

-flower: A highly maternal cat who is skilled in helping raise and nurture kits. 

-heart: A strongly moral and outspoken cat with powerful dedication to their beliefs.

-leap: A cat who behaves similarly to their fish-based prefix.

-path: A cat who gets along well with apprentices and has a lot of talent for raising them into warriors. 

-step: A cat who behaves similarly to their animal-based prefix. Can include birds, but usually -flight is used instead. 

-storm: A turbulent and emotional cat, usually with mood swings that mellow out as they age. 

-throat: A very well-spoken and eloquent cat, good at storytelling or negotiations.

-wing: An extremely intuitive and intelligent cat. 

-

Tier Four: Appearance 

-dapple: A cat with dappled markings, usually tortoiseshell or otherwise mottled.

-ear: In relation to a damaged ear or ears.  

-eye(s): In relation to a damaged eye or eyes.

-face: An exceptionally attractive cat, generally holding up the beauty standards of their particular Clan. 

-fur: A cat who has completed their warrior training and does not fit under any of the other suffixes. Usually used for longhaired individuals. 

-jaw: In relation to a damaged jaw.

-patch: A bicolor or calico cat whose prefix does not already mention their coloring pattern. 

-pelt: A cat who has completed their warrior training and does not fit under any of the other suffixes. Usually used for shorthaired individuals. 

-speck(s): A speckled cat, either a ticked tabby or a very mottled tortoiseshell. 

-spot(s): A spotted cat, generally describing spotted tabby markings. 

-stripe: A cat with strikingly striped tabby markings.

[kdram-chjh]

Cdrama: My Wife's Double Life (2024)

Gifs of Ending of cdrama "My Wife's Double Life"

【Multi Sub | FULL】 Government Officials Love Female Thieves | My Wife's Double Life 柳叶摘星辰 EP1 |iQIYI

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JpJUe_7leo8

[gordiebear]

A BOY <3

INFO UNDER THE CUT

Name: Kitty (His birth name is a secret)

Nickname(s) or Alias: Little Meow Meow- Any cat memes in 2021 basically.

Gender: Male

Birthday: February 3rd

Species: Faerie with cat deformities

Age: Unknown

Sexuality: Minromantic Asexual

Relationship Status: Single

Height: 0'8

Figure/build: Slim, soft

Smoker? no

Drinker? no

Drugs? no

Addictions: Dry food

Allergies: cigarette smoke, perfume, cleaning products, pollen, fungi, mold, and dust

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: Autism and PTSD

Any medication regularly taken: He doesn't know what medication is

Personality: Quiet and shy- Gets terrified easily and hisses if he doesn't know you. If he knows you he'll come up to you and start meowing and purring until you pick him up, and he'll start trilling. He's also very sleepy and tends to sleep alot.

Likes: His friends, his stray cat family, leafs, willow trees, warm water/baths, night time, soft things, eating mice, eating birds, eating squirrels, playing with other stray cats, cat toys, being warm, stars, and flowers.

Dislikes: People he doesn't know, other faeries (he doesn't know he is one), animal catchers, house cats, dogs, cucumbers, bright lights, saturated colours, anything that has to do with winter, cold water, pools, and loud noises

Fears/phobias: Chionophobia, Astraphobia, and Ligyrophobia (He develops Eisoptrophobia later on after he meets his siblings)

Favorite colour: Doesn't have a favorite

Favourite food(s): Cat food

Favourite drink(s): Salt water

Disliked food(s): Normal food

Disliked drink(s): Soda, any fancy drinks, and any type of juice

Peaceful or aggressive attitude? Aggressive

Fighting skills/techniques: Cat stuff

Special skills/magical powers/etc: He doesn't know yet

Weapon of choice (if any): His teeth

Weaknesses in combat: getting/sneaking away

Strengths in combat: Speed

Parents names: They don't get names or designs because they are terrible.

Are parents alive or dead? Dead

Is the character still in contact with their parents? No

Siblings? Relationship with siblings? Bambi, Fayette, Clover, and Lillian, he doesn't know they exist but he'll meet them eventually.

Other Important Relatives: The cats that took him in on the streets after he was abandoned by his mother and father

Partner/Spouse: None

Best Friends: Shiu Hikari

Other Important Friends: ;-))))))))

[webkinz-05]

transfem cgnf names and neopronouns? fem or neutral, maybe nature related :]

Hello dear, as a transfem Revivebur with a nature name I felt it my place to answer this, I hope these all suffice!

Names:

Astrid

Azalea

Blossom

Cherry

Clementine

Daisy

Dawn

Fawn

Flora

Heather

Jasmine

Lavender

Lilac

Magnolia

Meadow

Poppy

Saffron

Stella

Summer

Willow

Pronouns:

Bud/Bud/Buds/Budself

Flo/Flor/Flors/Florself

Leaf/Leaf/Leaves/Leafself

Moss/Moss/Mosses/Mosself

Pe/Peony/Peonies/Peonyself

Ro/Ros/Rose/Roseself

Stem/Stem/Stems/Stemself

Vine/Vine/Vines/Vineself

Zi/Zin/Zinnis/Zinniaself

🌱 / 🌱 / 🌱s / 🌱self

🌿 / 🌿 / 🌿s / 🌿self

🌸 / 🌸 / 🌸s / 🌸self

🌺 / 🌺 / 🌺s / 🌺self

🌷 / 🌷 / 🌷s / 🌷self

🌼 / 🌼 / 🌼s / 🌼self

🌹 / 🌹 / 🌹s / 🌹self

Please do share which names and pronouns you end up liking, I’d love to know which were good picks!

- mod star ✦ (Dahlia fronting)

[lunarmoment]

Find the Words

Thanks for the tag, @sleepyowlwrites! Really enjoyed reading your excerpts, and I'll tag you back, if you'd like! My words to find are: ground, shirt, room, situation, and ear.

Ground (from Collecting Keepers)

Neither Thatcher nor Clay said anything as they approached. Pushing forward on their toes, they sidled through the half-decayed leaves, praying the damp ground would deaden any noise they made.

Shirt (from Collecting Keepers)

By midafternoon, the wind picked up, pelting their faces with sharp grains of sand and the occasional piece of unfettered scrub. They pulled their shirts across their noses and mouths, waiting for nightfall.

Room (from my untitled fantasy story)

Cassika looked up at the night sky. “I feel like there would finally be enough room for me up there.”

Situation (from Keepers Collected)

The air adopted the density of hot tar, and the reality of the situation settled on Willow. He was there that day. He could have changed the outcome. He could have saved her.

Ear (from Collecting Keepers)

Large, leafy plants crowded the bathtub. Frowning, she peered closer—expecting a different sort of plant—but the mismatched pots were home to elephant ears, cordyline, ficuses, and umbrella plants, all wide-leafed and glossy.

Tagging: @pens-swords-stuff @novanovelwriting @akindofmagictoo @indecentpause @uraniumwriting and anyone else who would like to participate! No pressure, as always.

New words: metal, bright, city, ocean/sea, and star.

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Allegiances || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || From the Beginning || Patreon >>

Chapter 24

Feathertail blinked in the sunshine, wincing at its strength. The air still smelled of rain from the night before, and it filled the area around Eagle Rock with the sharp smells of wet pine and grass. The water had blown its banks here, too, but not so severely as the pool by the waterfall – it still made a suitable place to bury the dead.

Boulder, Sheer, Claw, and Swift’s bodies had been buried beneath one of the pines, and marked with one of the stones that had fallen with Sharptooth. Crag and Talon’s paws were still caked with wet mud from the work, and they lay together, cleaning each other with rasping tongues.

Now it was Stormfur’s turn.

Feathertail felt numb as she watched Stoneheart and Crowpaw lower Stormfur’s body down into his grave – separate from the others, given a place of honor beneath one of the oldest trees in the mountains. Close to the water, but far enough away to protect it from rot, like a RiverClan warrior deserved. Nightpaw joined them as they scraped the turned earth over him, sealing him away.

He’s really gone, Feathertail thought.

She hadn’t slept the night before – hardly any cat had. They had been too busy assessing the damage, treating wounds and collecting the dead. Feathertail could remember Night’s wails of grief as she saw Boulder’s body lined up with the others. If she closed her eyes, she could see Hawk, Ice, and Swoop’s gazes of confusion, or see Bird cuddled close to Swift, mourning her littermate and babbling that it should’ve been her instead.

“Today, we honor the lost,” rasped Stoneteller as the last of the earth was packed down.

All eyes turned to the old Tribe cat as he limped his way forward. There was an air of reverence to the ceremony – Stonetellers did not leave the cave unless it was for something so important. Snow walked by his side, her bright white pelt still streaked with herb matter and blood. Behind them, Shadepaw and Sun carried between them a thick stick.

Stoneteller stopped before Stormfur’s grave. Snow sat beside him, while Shadepaw and Sun took a position such that Stormfur’s grave was underneath the stick they carried. Feathertail saw the claw marks on the stick, and remembered grating her own claws through the soft wood. It’s appreciation for what he did, she recalled, dimly.

“The Tribe of Endless Hunting receives Boulder, Claw, Sheer, and Swift – brave cave-guards and prey-hunters who gave their lives to save us all,” Stoneteller meowed on, lifting his chin. “And we will forever honor Stormfur – he was not of the Tribe, but he gave his life for us regardless. He was the storm of our salvation. His sacrifice spared us from Sharptooth, and we thank him.”

“We thank him,” chorused the Tribe cats.

We thank him, Feathertail thought.

Snow nodded to Shadepaw and Sun, and the two young cats gently sank the stick into the soft earth of Stormfur’s grave. It stuck out tall and proud, a marker that would show even in the deepest snow. The two stepped away and dipped their heads.

The Tribe cats approached then, offering stones and feathers to cover the turned earth. Feathertail swallowed, trying to fight her trembling limbs. She wanted to spring at them and scream that they had the wrong cat, that Stormfur was still alive, just hiding somewhere – but her body refused to obey.

A soft scent touched her nose, and she felt Brook brush against her. Feathertail swallowed, breathing in her gentle smell. She looked down at the Tribe she-cat and knew, instantly, that she had forgiven Brook for her betrayal. There was no room in her heart to be angry, not when she was so sad. Feathertail pressed her muzzle against Brook’s, feeling like her heart was about to burst.

“We cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done for us,” rasped Stoneteller. The old tom was looking at Mistyfoot, his eyes full of sorrow. “The Clans will always be welcome here.”

“Always,” echoed Snow.

“Thank you,” Mistyfoot murmured. Her blue eyes, soft with loss, rested on Stormfur’s grave. She bent her muzzle and picked up a small, round stone from between her paws. She rested it gently on Stormfur’s grave, rubbing her muzzle against it as if to leave her scent for him.

She raised her nose to the sky, as if she could see Stormfur there, somehow. “Good bye,” she said. “I’ll bring them home, Stormfur.”

Crowpaw stepped forward, a bundle of wool in his jaws. He rested it on the grave before murmuring, “I hope you’ll be comfortable in the stars.”

Stoneheart limped forward, and he laid down a chip from one of Sharptooth’s claws. “I’ll miss you,” he confessed. “I’ve never had such a good partner in battle.”

Dock was Nightpaw’s gift, and he tucked it beneath Mistyfoot’s stone. “We were in danger all the time,” he meowed, sniffling. His pale blue eyes were wavering with sorrow. “But you never failed to make me laugh.”

Shadepaw tucked the sprig of an old willow into the dirt. “May it remind you of home,” she prayed, pressing a paw against her gift. “And thank you, for all that you taught me. May you have swift running, good hunting, and shelter when you sleep.”

Feathertail blinked as all their eyes turned to her. She swallowed and got to her paws, taking her gift in her jaws. Brook brushed against her as she padded up to Stormfur’s grave, bending her neck to rest the feather lightly against the dirt.

“I’m thankful they buried you by the water, brother. I think you’ll like it here,” Feathertail told him. She took a deep breath, hoping to catch one last bit of Stormfur’s scent – all she found was dirt and dampness. “I’ll miss you.”

Feathertail lifted her head, swallowing again. Now it seemed for sure that Stormfur was well and truly gone, never to return. She looked up at the sky, soft and blue, searching the clouds like Mistyfoot had. She thought one was looking down at her with a sparkle in what looked like an eye. Was that Stormfur?

Were they back in RiverClan territory, she and all of RiverClan would have lifted their muzzles to sing Stormfur’s spirit to StarClan – but it wasn’t something cats of the other Clans were familiar with, and Feathertail couldn’t help but wonder if it would work here, under the Tribe cat’s skies.

I’ll sing for you when we return home, she thought. For now, she hoped that the Tribe’s traditions would allow Stormfur’s spirit to reach the stars. He had died for their sakes – it only seemed right to respect their ways.

Too soon it was clear that it was time for them to go. Talon and Crag stepped forward, offering to show them the way. Feathertail glanced at Brook, wondering if the small she-cat would join them, only to meet her eyes and see pain there.

“I’ll miss hunting beside you,” Brook meowed. “I hope I can see you again one day.”

Feathertail leaned forward and brushed her muzzle against Brook’s, breathing in her soft scent. Maybe if she held it in her mind, she’d never forget the days spent patrolling among the stones with the pretty tabby, and how Feathertail had unburdened herself in the cold, clear mountain air.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Feathertail whispered. “More than anything.”

———————————————————-

Days passed as they walked, Mistyfoot leading the way down the mountain and into the soft grasses that stretched between them and their way home. They dodged Thunderpaths and Twolegs and dogs with ease, their stride purposeful though their hearts were heavy.

Feathertail’s paws felt strange now on the earth, and, when she turned one over to examine it for a thorn, she found that her pads had hardened over such that the barb hadn’t even pierced them. Even her pelt felt too warm, now, despite leaf-fall having taken a firm hold on the lands below, turning the leaves golden and red. The chill in the air was nothing compared to frozen-water in the mountains.

There was little said, but in reality, there was little that needed to be said. Each cat seemed to be mourning in their own, private way – but their purpose was firmly ahead of them now, and they had nothing to keep them from their goal.

Soon enough, as they trotted together up a steep hill, Feathertail found herself ahead of the others. Her muscles were accustomed to the slope thanks to hunting so often with the Tribe. She reached the top first, and she took a deep breath.

The smell of Thunderpath was overwhelming, and stretched out before her she could see a familiar tangle of the gray stone rivers ahead. There were more fenced-off squares of farmland between them, the tall plants inside a hundred shades of gold. Corn, Crowpaw had called it, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Beyond that…

Feathertail saw the small peaks beyond the Thunderpaths and sighed. Their long journey was finally coming to an end. She had to resist the urge to turn her head and cry out in delight at Stormfur – he would never walk by her side again, not in life.  

“Hightstones!” cried Nightpaw.

The small black tom had hauled himself up to the top of the hill, his tail up and eyes bright. He looked back at the others as they, too, reached the top. “It’s Highstones! We’re almost home!”

As the others gasped, purring at the thought of finally being in the forest again, Feathertail found herself recalling this sight from the top of the mountain, with Brook by her side. How it had all seemed so small from up there. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she could spot the exact cliff she was thinking of. The mountains were pale in the distance, however, and too far away.

Her heart clenched, and she looked ahead. While the others were chattering excitedly, Feathertail found herself struggling to move forward. Beyond Highstones was a Clan full of cats that didn’t love her, cats she had been told by her ancestors to save regardless. Beyond Highstones was a RiverClan without Stormfur.

Behind her, though…

Feathertail looked back again. Stormfur is in the mountains, now, she thought. Was his spirit even among StarClan? In the mountains… She thought again of Brook, recalled her sweet, gentle scent.  

In the mountains is my heart.

“Feathertail, are you all right?”

Feathertail blinked, turning her muzzle back around. Shadepaw was waiting for her on the hill, but Mistyfoot was already leading the others down the slope and towards the first Thunderpath. Feathertail swallowed.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

As she picked her way down the hill, Feathertail turned inward again. Mistyfoot is going to lead the Clans home, and I’m going to help her. But after that…

After that, I’ll go back for all that I left behind, and I’ll find a way to live without you, brother.

[honeyshines]

Map of the Valley Territory

More territorial/geographical info below the cut!

StarClan Place: MOONFALLS and MOONCAVERN

A waterfall that flows from a steep cliff into a pool below, Moonfalls is provides the Valley Clans with all of their water sources, which is important to them both territorially and culturally. Just behind the falls is a deep cavern filled with colorful bioluminescent flowers, fungi, and moss that give the falls an eerie backlight at night, especially under the light of the moon. The cave, called Mooncavern, is where medicine cats go to share with StarClan and leaders go to recieve their nine lives. All apprentices are required to make a pilgrimage to this location prior to taking their warrior assessment.

Gathering Spot: LIGHTNING TREE ISLAND

A bit of land carved out by the Valley’s streams and equally accessible to all four Clans, Lightning Tree Island is relatively barren save for soft grasses and sand, some stones and the huge burnt tree that rests a top a hill. The tree, seemingly hit by lightning many seasons ago sometimes releases drops of condensation, giving the appearance of glittering stars in the branches under the full moon. Leaders sit in a high up hollow in the tree and address the Clans below, while deputies sit upon the roots, and medicine cats just at the base of the tree. If StarClan disagrees with happenings at the Gathering, cloudcover over the moon prevents the condensation from sparkling and the Gathering must disperse.

MEADOWCLAN (blue)

MeadowClan makes its home among the rolling hills and fields at the foothills of the mountains. These fields, though very exposed and somewhat vulnerable to the elements, are prey rich and abundant with floral and plant life that are tall and provide the warriors with cover and protection while hunting or patrolling. The Flower Fields are home to lots of mice, which make up MeadowClan’s main source of prey, but skilled hunters frequently venture into the Tallgrass in search of rabbits, snakes, and landbirds, and in particularly desperate times, others may try their luck near the Wooded Pond hunting squirrels or fish, or even venture into Horesplace in search of chickens or rats. Apprentices train in a sandy hollow in the hills, and warriors can often be seen keeping watch of the territory (or sunning themselves) on the large rocks and high hills around the territory, trying to keep the Clan safe from hawks, badgers and foxes, which pose the greatest threat to the cats.

The camp is located in a dip in the hills under the shelter of an unusually large dogwood tree and surrounded by thorny blackberry bushes. Soft grasses flattened by the paws of many warriors cover the camp floor which are frequently littered with flowers both from the bushes and the tree. The leaders den is located in a carved out hollow in the bank behind the roots of the dogwood tree, and the Leader addresses the Clan from atop the roots. The medicine den can be found beneath a stony overhang in the dip of the hills, sheltered from the elements and near the butterfly bush that houses the elders. Warriors make their nests in the bramble bushes that protect the came, and their apprentices reside in the tangles of tall grass just inside the camp. Queens and their kits live in the safe tunnels of an abandoned badger set. MeadowClan has an eye for beauty and often decorates their camp, dens, and each other with flowers and berries.

THICKETCLAN (green)

ThicketClan is located in a densely wooded piece of land with plenty of treecover and undergrowth and the leaf litter underpaw warrants that warriors need to learn to stalk prey and move quietly through the woods as they hunt and patrol. ThicketClan cats usually hunt squirrels, birds, and mice, among the forest floor, and among the trees which ThicketClan cats learn from an early age to climb, sometimes even managing to come across eggs in bird nests, or nests of baby animals in the treetops. The forest has succumb to forest fires a couple times leaving a few areas of the forest burned and ashen, and shockingly good for finding and growing medicinal herbs. The territory also borders a Twoleg Camp, which needs to be monitored, as many cats have been taken from that area, and especially since apprentices train in the nearby fern glade, and the Twoleg rubbish tends to attract bears.

The camp is found in a dense hollow in the woodland trees, and protected by thick undergrowth and ferns. The cats like to sleep in the trees, and in fact, most dens are located in them. The leaders den is in the hollow of a large oak, and they give addresses from a long branch above. The medicine den is located in a clump of ferns in the shelter of a large stump, and warriors sleep in a hollow log. Apprentices sleep under the roots of a tree, and frequently clear the elders den of moss, located in a hollow stump, While queens and kits stay sheltered in ferns surrounding an uprooted tree. because so much of Clan life revolves around the trees, the ThicketClan cats have a deep respect for them and the trees that houses the leader’s den bears the clawmarks of each newly named warrior, the only instance of tree scratching allowed in the camp.

SWAMPCLAN (red)

SwampClan lives in a dense, foggy marshland that seems to get very little direct sunlight giving it a particularly dark feel. For this reason, prey tends to run at most hours of the day, dark or light. As a result of the darkness in the marsh, warriors are adept at maneuvering at night, and in fact much of clan activity is conducted after dark. Because of the marshy terrain, most of the prey in SwampClan is caught in the streams and ponds throughout the territory. The cats tend to eat fish, snakes, frogs, and young waterfowl. SwampClan cats are strong swimmers, and after trudging across muddy territory, many of them appreciate the cleansing effect of a good swim. Apprentices often times on their first day out of camp are expected to swim to their training ground, a muddy hollow in the marsh. As expected, their territory can be quite treacherous, and that cats must be wary of gators, owls, venomous snakes, and the Twolegs that come to fish at the Halfbridge at the edge of their territory.

SwampClan camp was made in the remains of an old lake, dried up by an abandoned beaver damn where the leader has their nest and on top of which Clan addresses are given. The soft sand floor of the clearing is ideal for kits who, once leaving the reed cluster that makes up the the nursery, play in the sand, and learn to swim in shallow dug out pools filled with groundwater. Warriors reside in a den situated under a thick low hanging willow, and apprentices live among a clump of cattails. The medicine cats have a shallow den dug out of the walls of the clearing and it is shielded by a lichen covered log that also serves as the exit from the camp. The elders live safely beneath a cluster of large stones and benefit from the warmth emitted from the rock. The clan values strength, and he bones of large and impressive catches are picked clean and displayed around the edges of the camp.

PEAKCLAN (yellow)

PeakClan cats roam the higher ridges of the stony cliffs of the mountainside. Due to the higher elevation, the cats have significantly less plant life in their territory, and experience slightly harsher, chillier climate than do the rest of the Clans. The rocky outcrops and steep, rolling hills are not home to a variety of prey, so the diet in PeakClan tends to consist of hares, rock dwelling rodents, and large birds that the cats work in large hunting parties to take down. occasionally the cats come across carcasses of animals such as deer or salmon, that can be stripped of meat and taken back to feed the Clan. Because there are so many cliffs and drops, cats must be aware and careful, not to mention skilled at jumping and climbing; apprentices are trained to do this on a large grassy landing, one of the safest places in the territory. Medicine cats in this clan have their work cut out for them, since falls are common, as are large predators like eagles, and wolves, not to mention the large, loud monster that runs along the Silver Thunderpath.

The PeakClan camp is nestled at the bottom of a rocky gorge higher in the mountains. Because of their proximity to the stars at their elevation, PeakClan cats consider themselves to be the closest Clan to StarClan, and tier the elvation of their dens based on rank, with the exception being the medicine den, located safely at the bottom, dug out in a cracked boulder to make it easier on injured cats, and near a stream that trickles from beneath the Rockpile left behind by a rockslide. The highest den is the leader’s, a cavern near the top of the ridge. The leader may give Clan announcements from the outcrop just outside their den, but many choose to utilize the Rockpile so as to be more easily visible. Elders live on the next level of the ridge on a plateau beneath a juniper bush, safe, and where other Clanmates make the trek up to give them anything they need. the warriors reside in a crevice under a rocky overhang below the elders den, apprentices sleep in a tangle of shrubs, and the kits and queens live in the safety of an old rabbit warren.