#fetch mews

[fatedheavylion]

sorry I haven't been posting a lot just kinda been bummed out lately

[damiel-of-real]

new headcanon: papyrus allows mad mew mew to keep living in the house because he hopes she'll drive out the annoying dog. but then she just keeps engaging in looney tunes esque shenanigans with it and its just an overall far worse situation

[miasanmuller]

"Messi's last big tournament" oh my god he's going to die isn't he? Omg omg omg omg omg

[sanchoyo]

whys ygo the only fandom I’m in that’s really populated with crackships/rarepairs out the wazoo. Like there’s ofc A Lot of popular ships but no one looks twice at ‘weirder’ ones like ones where the charas never spoke. More fandoms could learn from this 😔

[awkward-parabuteo]

A DAY IN THE RETRAINING OF MY HARRIS'S HAWK, ARAMIS

Come along for a glimpse at our routine!

Starting with fetching the man himself from his mews. Aramis is kept tied during the early stages of training, but is otherwise free lofted.

His pre-meal weight is noted, then we go on a short manning walk. There was a little breeze this morning and he got excited!

Then we're off to practice his recall to the glove! Aramis' meal is devided into tidbits and we repeat this exercise a few times. We just want him to hop on the fist in the beginning. Over time, we'll be able to recall him from a much greater distance as we continue to adjust his weight and his motivation increases. I'll also reintroduce him to the lure soon. He's very familiar with the process by now (this is our 7th hunting season together) and retraining usually doesn't take very long.

Aramis is weighed again once we're done, then he waits patiently in the travel box for me to move his bow perch outside (he really likes his box).

Time for a second manning walk!

Aramis is provided fresh water and gets to weather in the yard for the rest of the day since it's nice outside.

That's it for now, thanks for joining us! :)

[ohbabydollie]

MORE MUTUAL BREAKUP 🙏🤲🧎‍♀️

i need a break from trying to write smut 😔

moments of u two!!

a lil comp of silly scenarios, dialogue, etc. i think would apply to reader n schlatt

— — — —

a guy who asked to do a podcast interview with you obviously flirting while schlatt is sitting along side the camera man, sucking his teeth and biting his tongue, staying quiet

you ignore the flirting until you notice schlatt is getting jealous by the second and a few more flirty remarks away from punching the guy

so you do the only thing you can think of

“it’s a little cold in here” you say rubbing your arms

“really? i think it’s kinda hot” the guy says taking off his jacket about to hand it to you before schlatt sprints into action

he takes off his hoodie and hands it to you

“thank you honey” you say grabbing it and receiving a small peck from him and putting it on, completing the rest of your interview with the hoodie on, all warm and cozy in schlatt’s jacket

———

you held a volleyball tournament (very similar to the dodgeball tournament)

everyone showing up in shorts and shirts meanwhile you were in your highschool volleyball uniform, fitting you tighter in some places than it used to

everyone sees the way schlatt’s brows raise when you first arrive

everyone noticed schlatt not taking his eyes off your ass whenever you would bend over, go retrieve the ball, receiving and in general doing anything

during breaks he’ll take you into a corner when he thinks a camera can’t see and kiss you, parting with a smile and slapping your ass as you walk off with a dopey grin

———

“my favorite song right now? it’s probably that song from juno” you say smiling “here is the church and here is the steeple”

“we sure are cute for two ugly people” schlatt chimes in

“i don’t see what any one can see in anyone else but youu” you both sing smiling

“she plays it all the time, it’s so annoying” schlatt teases as you stick your tongue out at him

———

schlatt talks about you when asked or if you’re even referenced

“y/n, she is genuinely the best most incredible person i know, the way you see her on camera is the way she is in person, just that she’s softer and sweeter. I am her biggest fan, genuinely, she’s the most perfect person i know and i love being with her, not even just sex, i like being around her as a person, they make me a better person and it’s like every time i have to leave her, i feel empty. a piece of me is filled when im with her. She could ask me to get back with her in five minutes, tomorrow, fifty years in the future, i wouldn’t care, i’d get back with her in a heartbeat”

———

“my gum is out of flavor” you say looking around for a place to throw it out

“hand me it” schlatt says putting his hand out before you spit out the gum softly onto his palm, schlatt wastes no time putting it in his mouth almost immediately after causing you to look at him with wide eyes

“Schlatt! that’s disgusting”

“eh, i’ve had your tongue in my mouth before” he says blowing a bubble

———

“hello?” you ask putting your phone on speaker for the chat

“hey toots”

“oh hey schlatt”

“so, jambo has been cryin, sittin in the spot he always sat down next to you n he jus’ misses you” schlatt says sadly “i was wonderin’ if you could come over n comfort him since he jus wants his mommy” he asks softly

“yeah, i’ll be over in a few” you say before quickly ending your stream and going over to schlatt’s

“oh my poor baby jambo” you say picking up the mewing cat “you missed your mommy, didn’t you” you ask the cat softly, sitting down next to schlatt and giving jambo small kisses

eventually you fall asleep with jambo in your lap and schlatt carries you both to his bed, laying you down gently and he takes a photo

it’s his background for the next few months

———

“you got any sauce for this?” you ask schlatt as you bite into your fries before he goes into his pantry and fetches a new bottle of your favorite sauce

“schlattie” you chirp “you hate this sauce” you say opening up the bottle

“i know, i just had it left from when you lived with me” he lies

“i took the last bottle with me when i moved out” you say downwards smiling “you bought a new bottle for me”

“whatever” he huffs, knowing that you were right, he hated that stupid sauce but found your reaction to him having it adorable

———

“yeah, i’ve always wanted a surprise birthday party, but i’ve never gotten one” you say softly as schlatt makes note of it

a few months later on your birthday, you realize that very few people have said happy birthday, one of the few being schlatt

it’s a lonely day, you spend some of it alone before you get a text from schlatt at 2 pm

cat babydaddy: get ready, i’m picking you up at 5

you happily get ready, showering, shaving, everything

once he arrived he has a large bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and a box of chocolate covered strawberries, smiling at you lovingly

“you look great toots” he says handing you your bouquet and bringing your gifts inside, you thank him with a few kisses before he tells you to hurry so you won’t be late for the reservations he made

you giggle the whole way there, holding his hand as the both of you talk before you notice that he’s going past a bunch of restaurants before he makes you put on a eye mask which you do confused

he leads you out of the car and in through some doors, gently he takes the mask off of you to reveal a beautifully decorated venue

your friends and family jumping out to yell happy birthday at you as you feel yourself tearing up, turning to schlatt with tears of joy

“don’t cry, happy birthday toots” he says wrapping an arm around you and planting a kiss on your lips

lmk if u guys want some more, i gotta feed my mutual break up lovers

[xm4g1c-m1r4x]

Nebula Duo - The Kitten Dilemma

Debrief: Damian reluctantly lets (Y/N) into his sanctuary, his rooftop garden, only to be surprised by how well they connect. As the evening unfolds, he finds himself softening, realizing she brings a kind of peace he didn’t know he needed.

The Wayne Manor garden was unusually quiet for a sunny afternoon, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. Damian sat cross-legged beneath a towering oak tree, sketchbook in hand, while (Y/N) lingered nearby, trying not to disturb his focus.

She couldn’t help but steal glances. The way his dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as he worked, the rare calm that softened his sharp features—it was a side of him she treasured but rarely got to see.

“Are you planning to stare at me the entire time?” Damian asked suddenly, not looking up from his sketch.

(Y/N) flinched, caught off guard. “What? No. I was just...enjoying the scenery.”

Damian snorted softly. “Sure. The scenery.”

Before she could come up with a snappy comeback, a faint meowing interrupted them. They both stilled, their gazes darting around the garden.

“Did you hear that?” (Y/N) asked, standing up.

Damian set his sketchbook aside and rose smoothly to his feet. “It’s coming from over there.”

They followed the sound to a cluster of rose bushes near the garden wall. Peering into the dense foliage, (Y/N) gasped. A tiny gray kitten, its fur matted and dirty, was tangled in the thorny branches, mewing pitifully.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she whispered, reaching out.

“Wait.” Damian gently grabbed her wrist. “The thorns will cut you. Let me.”

Carefully, he knelt by the bush and began untangling the kitten with surprising tenderness. (Y/N) crouched beside him, watching in awe as the boy who often wielded swords and scowls handled the fragile creature like it was made of glass.

When he finally freed the kitten, it let out a tiny sneeze before snuggling into his chest.

“Well, looks like you’ve made a friend,” (Y/N) said, her heart melting at the sight.

Damian frowned, though the kitten’s small purrs softened his expression. “It’s injured. We need to take it inside.”

---

Back in the manor, Damian gently placed the kitten on a towel while Alfred fetched supplies. (Y/N) sat beside him, handing him a damp cloth.

“I didn’t know you were such a softie,” she teased as he carefully cleaned the kitten’s fur.

“I’m not,” Damian replied curtly, though his actions betrayed him.

(Y/N) smiled. “Right. That’s why you’re cradling a kitten like it’s your firstborn child.”

Damian shot her a glare, but his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “It’s called compassion, (Y/N). You should try it sometime.”

She laughed, leaning her chin on her hand as she watched him work. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He paused, his hand hovering over the kitten. “What are you talking about?”

“You act all tough, but deep down, you care more than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s...one of the things I like about you.”

Damian’s ears turned pink, and he quickly busied himself with wrapping the kitten in a blanket. “You talk too much.”

(Y/N) grinned, letting the subject drop—for now.

---

Later that evening, the kitten—now named "Shadow"—was comfortably settled in a basket near Damian’s bed. (Y/N) leaned against the doorframe, watching as Damian gently stroked Shadow’s head.

“You’re keeping it, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

Damian glanced at her, his lips quirking into a rare smile. “Obviously. Someone needs to make sure it doesn’t grow up as reckless as you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in her chest. Moments like these reminded her why she had fallen for him.

“Goodnight, Damian,” she said, turning to leave.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he replied, his voice unusually soft.

As she walked down the hall, her heart swelled. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the two of them after all.

[xxtc-96xx]

I can't remember if this has been asked but in the like stayed mew au where obviously twins weren't turned into mewtwos, would Pig have come out a pale off color mew or would she have likely still been cloned and altered from mewtwos dna so it'd just be mew-mewtwo with his abnormally large pale baby? (cause I imagine he'd probably sense and go fetch her)

I believe I made her still a mewtwo, so she's just mew!mewtwo's lorge baby

[ravennaortiz]

I got my Juice fill. Now I need my Happy fill.

Happy and Coffee: Happy becomes a Cat Dad! From he doesn’t want a cat to teaches cat to do tricks 😆

Thank you!!!

This brought me so much joy lol! Feel free to pop back in for more!

Happy was not one for having a living being in his home let alone a pet. His lifestyle was too dangerous.

So one night coming home from a run it was easy for him to walk by the little creature in his driveway.

The next day was just as easy if a bit more annoying because Juice drew attention to it when he stopped by. "You know there's a kitten outside right?" Juice had asked to which Happy had grunted his answer. "Its cute. Think its lost? I wonder where its family is?" stated Juice as he looked back out at the kitten as it walked towards the open door. "Don't speak cat. Shut the door" snapped Happy.

The next couple of days Happy barely left the house but every time he opened the door the little creature bolted towards him. "Shoo! Go away!" he would grumble. Though its pitiful mews were starting to get to him.

"Alright, you can stay. Yard only" stated Happy at the end of the week as he put a little cat house down on the porch with some food and water he had picked up on his way home. "This doesn't mean we are friends" he stated as he gave the cat a small pat on the head before going inside.

"Dammit" grumbled Happy as he got out of his bed as a thunderstorm raged on. It had been raining all day and he hadn't seen the cat in a few days.

"And what is this little fellows name?" inquired the veterinarian as she walked in the exam room. "Smiles" replied Happy as he sat the cat carefully on the table. "Cute. Well lets get our exam done and some vaccines then we will get you two on your way" explained the vet as she started to examine Smiles. "He gotta get poked" murmured Happy worriedly as he looked at the needles. "Those are huge"

"Yeah he's the smartest cat alive. Uses the toilet, knows how to put on his motorcycle gear for rides, Square up for fights, fetches, talks, sits and walks on two legs. Smarter than a border collie. In fact I think if he had thumbs I could teach the little bastard how to use a gun and knife" raved Happy as he demonstrated Smiles tricks for the club.

Go to event page

[ask-eden]

Alaxia remains practically frozen in place, not even his tail was able to swish around like normal Almost as if he had stopped breathing on the spot Etoile fiddles with their own tail and continues to ramble on, not acknowledging the other mew's sudden stillness

Etoile: Do you keep it to appear cool? Not as a insult of course, I just know a long time ago I remember even your father went through a phase of "scars being cool" Etoile: Are scars still cool? Am I out of touch? Etoile playfully wiggles their tail tip in their hands and they giggle at themselves. Alaxia spoke suddenly, causing Etoile's pupils to snap over suddenly at him Alaxia: I... Keep it. For personal purposes. Not to appear a certain way to others. Alaxia: I can heal it but.. I don't want to. I want to remember it. Etoile raises a brow, a sharp trill purr of curiosity escapes them Etoile: Why would you want to remember a random giratina attacking you exactly?

Alaxia: Just. To remind myself that not every universe is happy to have visitors. That's all. Etoile: Hm. Do you still jump through random portals like you did when you were a kitten? Alaxia: Well. No. Etoile: Then I'm having some trouble understanding your reasoning. You've been attacked by things before, yet you don't keep those scars. Why not keep a scar to remind you not to mess with poison pokemon? Or the scar to remind you to not touch the hot spots on a typhlosion's neck? Alaxia remains silent for a moment, causing Etoile to lean in a bit closer Etoile: Plus, you seem to go out of your way to keep it covered all the time. Why keep it if you don't want to show it off? I bet it would be a hot ice breaker for any new person. Etoile: If I didn't know any better, I would think there is more to that scar than a random attack~ Are you hiding something from me Alli- Alaxia: NO. I'm not. It is just my first scar and I want to keep it. That's all. That's all there is to it. Etoile doesn't seem to jerk in surprise at Alaxia's sudden interruption, only their pupils turning into slits as they make eye contact with him.

Etoile remains silent for a moment, pupils flickering back and forth, looking Alaxia up and down with a unreadable expression. Alaxia dips his head a bit in respect, forcefully making himself smile awkwardly to try and apologize. Alaxia: Sorry for snapping, My Mew. I didn't mean to speak out of turn. Alaxia: I just.. Really want to hear what you have to say! It's not every day you have a private conversation with someone! Is something wrong? Alaxia forces another smile to appear friendly, despite the lies coming through his teeth. In all honesty he didn't care at all what Etoile had to say to him and wanted to be done with this mew. His mind already trying to think of another way to once again send Etoile on a pointless fetch quest. There is another small silence between the two, as Etoile stares for a moment longer before suddenly speaking once more in a cheery tone. As if the awkward conversation had never happened.

"..... what ....... "

[wc-confessions]

I’m anti-Bramblestar, but one thing I realized while reading Squirrelflight’s Hope is that Bramblestar never threatened Leafpool’s life like some anti-Bramblestar documents claim. He did stop her from treating Sunrise, but never threatened to kill her. Squirrelflight thought he would fight her, but he didn’t and he didn’t threaten her. I hate Bramblestar and he is abusive, but saying he threatened Leafpool or saying that he said he “would shred her” isn’t true. Just want to correct that. Direct excerpt below for those who don’t believe me.

“As Hawk and Snow clustered protectively around their campmate, Leafpool got to her paws. “You can argue until dawn for all I care.” She turned toward the medicine den. “All I know is that StarClan hasn’t told us to let this cat die. I’m fetching herbs to treat her. I will not sit vigil for a cat I could have saved.” She began to head across the clearing.

“No!” Bramblestar leaped in front of her, squaring his shoulders as he stared at her. Leafpool froze, her eyes wide.

Squirrelflight’s paws seemed rooted to the ground. Was Bramblestar going to fight her sister to stop her treating a wounded cat? As she blinked in disbelief, Sunrise let out a low groan. She was dying! Energy surged beneath Squirrelflight’s pelt. She crossed the clearing and pushed in front of Leafpool, meeting Bramblestar’s fierce gaze with her own. “Let her go,” she growled.

Bramblestar stared at her miserably. “We can’t keep doing this,” he whispered only loud enough for her to hear. Desperation edged his mew. “If you keep undermining my authority, you could destroy the whole Clan.”

Squirrelflight held her ground. “I have to do what I think is right.”

“Even if it costs you your Clan?”

“ThunderClan is stronger than that,” Squirrelflight spat. “At least I hope it is. If our future depends on letting a cat die, then it’s not the Clan I thought it was.”

Bramblestar stared at her. Uncertainty glittered in his gaze. “Why are you doing this to me?” His words pierced her heart. “You’re my deputy. You’re my mate. You’re supposed to support me.”

“Being a good deputy doesn’t mean blindly following orders.” Squirrelflight didn’t move. “It means standing up for what I believe, and this time, I believe I’m right.” The camp seemed to swim around her. She knew she was hurting him. But she had to convince him. As the Clan watched her silently, their eyes round in the moonlight, Bramblestar backed away.

His gaze flicked to Leafpool. “If you insist on treating Sunrise, go ahead. But take her to the medicine den. If she’s out of sight, perhaps the Clan will feel less angry.” He nodded toward the Sisters. “They can stay in the elders’ den. Berrynose and Bumblestripe will stand guard tonight. Move Millie, Brightheart, Cloudtail, and Graystripe to the nursery.” Around him, the Clan got to their paws. Mousewhisker and Twigbranch helped Tempest and Hawk lift Sunrise. Leafpool nosed her way into the medicine den. Bramblestar narrowed his eyes, his face like stone. Squirrelflight tried to drag her gaze from his, her heart cracking as he curled his lip. “StarClan wanted unity among the Clans,” he snarled. “Thanks to you, there’s not even unity in ThunderClan anymore.”

It’s still shitty how he did the whole situation with Sunrise, but yeah. He never threatened to kill Leafpool or “shredded her” like some documents claim. He’s still abusive, but making up things that never happened in the books spreads misinformation.

.

[fatedheavylion]

Have I ever mentioned I do artfight every year lol

My b I'm OtherworldlyBeast on artfight (I think) so see you there ✌🌈

[beefrobeefcal]

Omg I’ve just seen pictures of waffles at the end of a fic he’s soo cute 😭😭😭 his nose is so boop-able I love him 🖤🖤🖤

Waffles would be delighted to know you think he's cute

Some fun facts about Waffles:

he is EXTREMELY food motivated. I have taught him how to sit and fetch with the promise of rotisserie chicken. If you try to boop him, he will assume you're going to give him food.

just because he's food motivated doesn't mean he's well behaved. When Mr. Beefcal get after him for stealing socks or pestering his siblings, he looks at him like he's been interrupted. But if I show him the slightest sign of disappointment, he whines and rolls over, showing me his tummy and makes air biscuits.

He is the baby of the household and he knows it. He's a whiny, needy bag of cat meat and he just wants cuddles from me. No one else. Mr. Beefcal pets him? He gets a dirty look. People come for a visit, he will herd them to the front door to get them to leave as soon as they arrive (unless there's food - then he will work the room like a high end escort).

The pics above - I promise he was purring and making biscuits the whole time. He gazed at me lovingly as I dressed him up and told him he looked like a "little ben franklin" and the "eggplant pope". The moment he looked uncomfortable, I removed everything. All the pics were taken in a matter of minutes.

Waffles is a doctor... of Mew-clear Physics. [hold for applause and laughter]

There are three other BeefcalCats - The Wagon, The Fry & ScootyPuff Jr.

Yours in sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜 + Dr. G. Waffles

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 50

Chapter 49 || Index || Chapter 51

Fireheart did his best to stifle a yawn as he led the Shadowclan dawn patrol back into camp. One of the perks of being deputy was not needing to go on dawn patrol unless he wanted to. Yet as much as Fireheart desired to sleep in, he also wanted to show that he could pull his weight and be a good deputy - at least until the time came when he could finally be just a normal warrior once more.

He padded over to the usual deputy’s spot beneath the Highrock, only to find that there was someone else waiting for him there as he nearly walked into them. The sudden shock was enough to finally wake up his brain, and he nearly fell over as he stumbled back to take in the stocky, thick-furred form of Yellowfang. Just as he was about to mew an apology - or at least a hello - he noticed the panicked look on her face.

Yellowfang? Panicked? That was enough to make him nearly panic, too.

“I need to speak with you.” Yellowfang mumbled to him as she stood up, keeping her copper gaze on him for no more than a heartbeat before turning and all but rushing for her den. Fireheart hurried after her, not daring to keep the old healer waiting. Worries rushed through his mind. Was this about Bluestar? Had some illness befallen her, just as she was making progress? Had something happened to his niblings? Worse yet, had something happened to his sister?

Fireheart was running through all the possible catastrophes as he ducked through the crack in the ravine wall, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness of the healer’s den inside. There were no other cats inside beside Yellowfang herself, who was pacing back and forth in the small clearing. He’d never seen her like this before, and suddenly his fears went from accident or illness to outright death.

“Whitestorm came to speak with me.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, nearly faster than her tongue was able to keep up. “Just after I sent Dewpaw to go fetch some coltsfoot and borage. It’s a bit late in the season for kittencough, but there’s always a chance, and borage will be good for Frostfur when-” Yellowfang paused, taking in a shuddering, raspy breath and slowly releasing it. “You don’t care about all that. The important thing is, we were alone.”

A sudden inkling trickled into the back of his mind as he recalled his earlier conversation with Whitestorm, just before the Gathering. He suddenly suspected he knew what this was about. “And?” Fireheart prompted, doing his best to speak calmly and gently.

She shook her head back and forth, as though trying to shoo off an angry fly buzzing about her head. “He said he’d noticed I’d been spending more time with him lately, and he wanted to know why. I didn’t know what to say!” She raised her eyes skyward in agony, as though Starclan would come down from the heavens and give her the way forward. “He can’t find out, Fireheart. If he knows the truth- if he finds out what I did-”

“Calm down, Yellowfang.” She turned her wild gaze to him, and Fireheart did his best to steady himself in the face of such unbound anxiety. As real as Yellowfang’s fears were - and he was sure they were very real - it was nothing compared to what he had been afraid of. He could handle this - of that he was sure. “Why can’t he find out?”

For a moment, he thought she might unleash any number of creative Shadowclan swears upon him, her gaze becoming dark and stormy as she glared at him. At last, she turned away, forcing herself to take another deep breath. “Isn’t it obvious, Fireheart? If he finds out that I’m Brokentail’s mother - that he’s my grandson - he’ll want nothing to do with me ever again.” Her thorny claws raked along the stony floor of the healer’s den as she kneaded it in agony. “I should- it’s selfish of me, I know, but I’ve enjoyed spending time with him. It makes me imagine what I could’ve had with Brokentail, had- if things had been different.” She bowed her head, no doubt remembering what her son had ended up becoming. “I don’t want to lose that.”

Fireheart took a step towards her, doing his best to appear comforting. “You don’t have to lose that.” He mewed soothingly, reaching out to gently touch her tail with his paw. She didn’t flinch away. “What makes you think that he won’t want to speak with you if he finds out the truth? Whitestorm is patient, understanding, and wise. I think if any cat were to hear you out, it would be him.”

Yellowfang glanced briefly at him as her face screwed up into a scowl before looking away once more. “You don’t understand, Fireheart. Just because you took it in stride doesn’t mean he will. The healer’s code is a sacred thing to Clan cats. Anyone who breaches it must be shunned - that’s what all Clanborn cats are taught from the moment their ears open.”

Fireheart did his best not to react at the none-too-gentle reminder that he wasn’t Clanborn. The old healer was in her own world of agony, he knew, but that didn’t make it sting any less. “And I suppose Dewpaw is a kittypet, too?” He did his best not to let his voice lower into a growl. “Yellowfang, you judge yourself because no one else can. You think you’ve committed the highest sin because of who Brokentail became, and I’m sure narrow-minded cats like Patchpelt or Tigerclaw would agree. But Whitestorm is not them - you should give him a chance, at least.”

She didn’t respond to that, and Fireheart did his best not to lash his tail in frustration. He was suddenly reminded of his apprentice days - was this what Tinyfrost had had to deal with, with him? He mentally noted that he should apologize to his old mentor later. “Yellowfang, look at it this way. You could not tell him the truth, but he’ll expect an answer when he next sees you. Will you be able to lie well enough to satisfy his curiosity? If not, he might stop talking to you because you lied to him. You could avoid him, so you don’t have to answer - but then, you’ll never be able to have anything to do with him again. Is that not exactly what you’re trying to avoid?” He could almost see her mind working as she parsed his question, slowly turning to face him once more. “I can be there with you when you tell him, if it will help. You know I’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

Her face was covered in shadow as she stared at him, her eyes unreadable in the darkness. He did his best to look confident as he met her gaze, waiting for her to make a decision. “Alright.” He perked his ears as she croaked out a response. “Alright. But you have to stay with me.”

Fireheart smiled and nodded affirmatively as he stood up. It was nice being the reasonable one for a change - he could see why Peppermask enjoyed it so much. “Of course. I won’t leave your side.” He flicked his ginger tail towards the entrance. “I’ll go get him now, and we can take a walk together?”

“Now?” Yellowfang’s eyes were as wide as her paws as she stared at him in shock. “But I don’t know what to say!”

“Yes, now.” Fireheart tilted his head as though he were confused. Now he was being a bit petty - but he enjoyed it nonetheless. “I don’t have all day, you know. What with being the deputy and all.”

He turned and left before she could protest further, leaving her alone to gather her wits. Whitestorm was guarding camp, which he knew from assigning the patrols earlier. At the moment, he was talking to his mate, who had been on the dawn patrol with Fireheart. Thornpaw was sitting next to Lionheart, looking quite grumpy from the early morning wake-up.

“Whitestorm!” Fireheart called, the three turning their attention to their deputy as he crossed camp towards them. “Yellowfang needs some help gathering marigold, and Dewpaw’s out fetching other herbs at the moment. Would you mind helping us? I’m sure Lionheart can finish guarding camp in your stead.”

The senior white warrior regarded him with a guarded golden gaze, but Lionheart just chuffed in amusement and tapped his mate with his tail. “I’m sure I could! I was going to take Thornpaw hunting, but I’d happily take some time resting in camp instead. Besides, with Frostfur kitting any day now, the nursery nests need to be cleaner than ever. Isn’t that right, Thornpaw?”

Fireheart did his best not to wince in sympathy as Thornpaw glowered in their direction. Going from a hunting trip to changing out nests - that would put a damper in any apprentice’s mood, and he couldn’t blame the tabby tom in the slightest for his anger. “Fine.” Thornpaw growled before stalking off towards the nursery.

“I’m sure your mother will appreciate it!” Lionheart called after his apprentice, who only lashed his tail in response. Lionheart smirked as he turned back to Fireheart. “Oh, don’t feel bad for him. Goldenflower told me he mouthed off to your sister yesterday when she asked him to fetch her some prey. He could stand to learn some respect for all the queens in our nursery, not just his mothers.”

Any sympathy Fireheart might have had for Thornpaw evaporated in a flash. “He most certainly could.” The deputy agreed readily, before looking back at Whitestorm. “It seems that’s all taken care of, then. If you’ll come?” He questioned, realizing that Whitestorm had never actually answered him.

Whitestorm was still staring at Fireheart, but slowly nodded his assent before getting to his paws. “I suppose it’s only right of me to help out, since Lionheart’s back now.” There was a reluctance to his words that the helpful older warrior would usually never have for such a simple task. He wondered briefly what Yellowfang had said to him, but didn’t ask as he led them to the camp entrance where the old healer was waiting.

She seemed to have collected herself somewhat, no longer looking quite as outright afraid as she led them through the bramble tunnel and up the ravine. They traveled in silence, Yellowfang leading them on a familiar path that Fireheart had taken with her many times before - towards the Twolegplace.

“I take it this is about our earlier conversation?” Whitestorm interrupted the quiet with his question, flicking an ear in response to Fireheart curiously turning towards him. “Marigold doesn’t grow until greenleaf. Spottedleaf taught me that, back when we were young.” 

Fireheart blinked in confusion, before remembering what he’d said to lure the white warrior out of camp. “Oh, I- I guess I didn’t know.” He didn’t know what else to say - short of blurting out the truth of why they were out there, which he didn’t think Yellowfang would appreciate.

As he thought of the old healer in front of them, she suddenly whirled around to look at the two warriors. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.” She growled, her eyes softening as she looked at her grandson. “Please, Whitestorm.”

Whitestorm shifted nervously beside him. Nervous was not a word Fireheart had thought would ever apply to the white tom - but the darting eyes and low ears were confirmation enough that he was nervous indeed. “I can’t do that, Yellowfang.” He mewed at last. “I don’t keep secrets from my mate, and I don’t keep secrets from Bluestar. I- I hope you understand that.”

Yellowfang gasped as if Whitestorm had threatened to kill her where she stood. “Not Bluestar!” She hissed back. “If she finds out, she’ll-”

“Bluestar’s broken the code far more than you, Yellowfang.” Fireheart interrupted before she could finish, the former Shadowclanner looking at him in baffled shock. “Trust me, Yellowfang, she’ll have no problems. As for Lionheart- Whitestorm, would Lionheart tell anyone anything you told him in confidence?”

Whitestorm’s ears perked at Fireheart’s words, his gaze suddenly curious as he appraised the ginger deputy. “You’re cleverer than you let on, Fireheart.” Fireheart blinked, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but the other tom continued on before he could decide. “If I ask him to, Lionheart will not repeat a word I say - not even to his sister.”

“It sounds like at this point I might as well tell the entire Clan.” Yellowfang growled, but he could tell her bluster was a weak front for the fear coursing through her heart.

“Five cats is not an entire Clan.” Fireheart replied steadily in return, keeping himself calm as he met her gaze. “Bluestar won’t act on this, and Lionheart won’t tell a soul. Is them not knowing worth the price of keeping this secret from Whitestorm?”

The old healer looked like she wanted to scratch his eyes out for asking - yet, after several heartbeats, she swallowed her pride and nodded. “But you will not tell anyone else.” She growled. “Promise me, Whitestorm.”

Whitestorm looked between the other two cats, questions clouding his gaze - but he slowly nodded in agreement. “Very well. I promise I shall never repeat a word you tell me except to Bluestar and Lionheart.”

Yellowfang looked around nervously, as though expecting the woods to be full of enemies. There was nothing. “I ask that you not judge me too harshly, though I understand if you do.” She shifted back and forth, her paws working the ground beneath her into fine sand. “I- I hope you’ll understand.”

“When I was young - much younger than I am now - I fell in love with a tom.” Yellowfang began, each word scraping out of her as though it were being physically pulled out of her throat. “Raggedstar. I- I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say I bore him three kits. Two of them died shortly after birth, but one survived.”

It was hard to tell exactly what Whitestorm was thinking - the older tom had always been more stoic and reserved than his mate Lionheart. “Raggedstar only had one child.” He mewed at last, slowly and carefully. “So either he never claimed this child of his, or-”

“Yes.” Yellowfang’s shoulders sagged in defeat as she kept her eyes on the ground, not daring to look at him. “I am Brokentail’s mother.”

Whitestorm was silent for several long, painful heartbeats. Fireheart watched him, fear suddenly rising in his own heart. What if he was wrong? What if Whitestorm wasn’t as accepting as he had led Yellowfang to believe?

At last, the other tom dipped his head. “I understand, I think.” He paused, his brows slowly furrowing. “Partly, at least. I had always wondered why you, of all cats, would advocate for his defense.” 

“Lionheart has been having some trouble mentoring Thornpaw as of late. It seems Tigerclaw left more of a mark on him than any of us would desire.” Whitestorm rumbled on, his claws unsheathing slightly at the mere mention of the exiled traitor. “It all had me thinking about our own kits, soon to be born. I love them with all my being, even though I haven’t yet met them. They are proof of Lionheart and I’s devotion to each other. What would I do if one of them chose that dark path? As much as I would believe that I could guide them, perhaps what I would think to be guidance is only enabling.”

Yellowfang looked up, her flat face full of hard to place emotions. “I advocated for him because I wanted to believe that he could change. I thought maybe in a different Clan, one where he had to rely on others, he would no longer be so arrogant. I thought that having only one life left would humble him, force him to see the error of his ways. Part of me hoped that if I was by his side more, I could persuade him to change.” Her eyes disappeared into a thick scowl. “But I was just enabling him to commit more crimes against a Clan I claimed to love, wasn’t I?”

Whitestorm appraised Yellowfang’s slouched form for a moment, his golden eyes guarded but curious. “A parent’s love is a durable thing, isn’t it? You couldn’t have known that Tigerclaw would use him to try and overthrow Bluestar.” He dipped his head respectfully to the old healer. “It’s easy enough to say what to do with the benefit of hindsight, but there is courage to be had in giving a second chance even to those who have wronged you before.”

Yellowfang heaved a difficult sigh. “I gave him too many.”

Whitestorm shrugged softly in response. “Perhaps.” He mewed steadily. “Perhaps Bluestar gave Tigerclaw too many chances, between what he did to Tinyfrost and Ravenspirit. But he was a strong warrior, and she wanted to believe he could do great things one day. I wanted to believe that, too. Perhaps that was why I went along with her decision that night.” He shook his head with a sigh before tilting it quizzically. “But while that explains a good deal, I don’t understand what this has to do with me.”

Yellowfang’s gaze flicked nervously towards Fireheart, all but begging him to step in - which he did readily. “When Brokentail first became Thunderclan’s prisoner, I was one of the first to guard him. He took that as an insult, of course, and started taunting me, calling me a kittypet, my mother and father kittypets, the usual.” Even now, it was hard to keep his tail from bristling as he listed off the ‘typical’ insults. “I told him that I didn’t know who my father was, and that he could be my father for all I know. I added that it was probably an insult to him to even imply that he was the father of a Thunderclanner, and he…” 

Fireheart trailed off and glanced at his ginger paws, part of him worrying about if he was wrong. Maybe Brokentail had been lying, to try and get him to suspect his Clanmates of being half-Clan. It made more sense than the cruel tyrant telling the truth about anything. But Yellowfang and Dewpaw had both agreed that his thoughts made sense, and even Whitestorm had admitted he didn’t know who his father was. 

He looked back up to see Whitestorm staring at him, obviously puzzled. “He told me that he had had a Thunderclan mate, many seasons ago. He didn’t say much about her - only that she died on the Thunderpath several leafbares ago, when her only kit - a tom - was too young to travel to meet him.”

It was easy to see the moment that everything fell into place for Whitestorm. His eyes widened, pupils growing to the size of the new moon as the senior warrior’s white fur bristled from the nape of his neck all the way to his tail. “No.” Whitestorm choked out, stumbling back a few pawsteps before falling onto his rump, his horrified gaze flicking between Fireheart and Yellowfang. “No - No. That cannot be.”

“You said yourself you didn’t know who your father was.” Fireheart continued, even as his heart tore for the warrior he had looked up to for so long. This was a terrible revelation, he knew - not one that squared with the image of Whitestorm, the pinnacle of wisdom and kindness. “Your mother Snowstorm died on the Thunderpath, didn’t she? In leafbare, when you were still too young to leave the nursery.”

“That can’t be- Brokentail cannot be my father!” Whitestorm choked out the words with a snarl, his sides heaving as he fought to control himself. “You have to be mistaken.”

Yellowfang turned away from them with a low growl, her ears pinned back in humiliated anger. “I told you this was a bad idea.” She hissed to Fireheart.

“Sit down and relax, would you?” Fireheart shot back at the old healer before looking back at Whitestorm, trying to remain calm himself. “Why is it impossible, Whitestorm?”

Whitestorm stared back at him, his eyes still round in horror. “Don’t you remember, Fireheart? I was guarding him the day his rogues attacked. He jumped at me, and I was just defending myself, but I-” The older warrior barely choked back a wail. “If what you say is true, I killed my own father!”

Fireheart blinked in surprise, suddenly remembering that no other cat knew what had truly happened that day. Brokentail had been killed, yes - but it was because Yellowfang had poisoned him with foxglove seeds, in the secrecy of their den. He had unintentionally witnessed it, sneaking into her den in fear that she was being attacked by a rogue, but he had chosen to keep that secret because he knew she had intended for no one to know. As far as the Clan knew, Whitestorm’s blows had not just blinded him, but killed him outright.

He glanced at Yellowfang, wondering if she would now reveal the truth. It was one thing, after all, for Whitestorm to take the blame and credit for killing a rogue leader when they had meant nothing to each other. Now, however, Whitestorm clearly believed he was responsible for killing his own blood, even unintentionally. Even though Brokentail had been a terrible cat, one that truly deserved death, it wasn’t fair for Whitestorm to carry such guilt when the one truly responsible was right there.

“It was not you that killed him.” His heart lifted as Yellowfang spoke, relieved that she had decided to come clean after all. “It was his own actions that got him killed. If he had not attacked you, he would not have died.”

“That may be true, but-” Fireheart’s spirits sank as Whitestorm looked down at his paws. Yellowfang was taking the easy way out, refusing to relieve Whitestorm of his guilt when it was clear that the mere thought was tearing him in two. He could only guess she was afraid that he would reject her for refusing to tell the truth; part of him longed to urge her to reveal what had really happened, but doing so would reveal that he had known all along that she had poisoned her son. He had sworn to himself that he would never bring it up - and so he stayed quiet, even though it pained him greatly.

Then the white warrior’s shoulders slumped and he let out a sob. “All this time…” He took a few slow, stuttering breaths, trying to calm himself. Finally, he looked back up at Yellowfang, his golden eyes filled with a sudden clarity. “One of the only memories I have of my mother is when she was leaving the nursery late one morning. I begged to go with her, and I asked her why she couldn’t stay with me.” Tears came to his eyes at the memory of Snowstorm, lost to him before he was even an apprentice. “She told me that she was going to see my father, and it was too far for me to walk. She promised me when I was big and strong enough, she would take me to see him.”

“Deep down, I always knew he was not a Thunderclan warrior.” Whitestorm admitted, his claws digging into the earth below him as if he was afraid it would fall away from him at any moment. “I had always hoped it was a loner, or- or a kittypet, maybe, like Frostfur… Someone unfamiliar with Clan life, someone I would never meet.” He looked over at Fireheart, his eyes shimmering with salty tears. “Are you really certain? Brokentail is my father?”

He didn’t know what to say - part of him wanted to comfort Whitestorm, but he didn’t want the tom to think he was lying, either. “Brokentail never said the name of his mate or his kit, and of course I’ve never spoken to Snowstorm.” He finally mewed as neutrally as he could. “But too many of the details match up for it to be mere coincidence. When I was talking with Bluestar about Snowstorm’s death, she specifically said her sister ran off to the Thunderpath again, like she made a habit of doing that. When I pressed her about it, she went quiet, like she didn’t want me to think about it too deeply.”

“Bluestar?” Whitestorm’s eyes suddenly blazed with hurt and fury. “You don’t think she knew who my father was?”

Fireheart blinked, suddenly recalling how Bluestar had said Snowstorm had never told her who Whitestorm’s father was. Obviously she had kept her nephew in the dark completely - but now he suddenly had to consider whether she had known all along. He thought back through his interactions with her, knowing he had to choose his words carefully. Whitestorm already felt betrayed enough knowing that his mother had chosen such a sinister mate - even if Bluestar had known, it didn’t seem fair to cause a rift in her relation with her only Thunderclan family over this.

“She never said anything to me directly.” Fireheart said at last, hoping to at least partially ease Whitestorm’s fears. “Whenever it came to Brokentail, she never seemed torn or hesitant regarding him. She’s our leader, of course, and she’s often hard to read, but I think she would have had at least a heartbeat’s hesitation when it came to discussing his fate if she knew he was your father. I think she suspected that your father was Shadowclan, or may have outright known, but I don’t think she knew which cat specifically.”

“There were several handsome young toms around Brokentail’s age in Shadowclan at that time.” Yellowfang added in, though he couldn’t tell if she was trying to be helpful or not. “Spiderfoot, Mousefang, Deerstrike, plus Clawface and Stumpytail. Maybe not Spiderfoot, since you don’t have his paws, but the rest of them could’ve been suspect.”

Whitestorm nodded slowly, taking in what the other two were saying. His breathing began to steady at last as he considered their words. “I see.” He finally murmured at last, barely loud enough for them to catch. “I see.”

“Whitestorm, I- I am sorry I didn’t tell you.” Yellowfang stepped forward gingerly, her copper eyes locked on her grandson as he slowly gained his composure. “I thought you would be better off if you didn’t know. But then you asked me, and I-” She cut herself off, clearly searching for the right words. “All this time, I have regretted my choice. I wish I had never taken Brokenkit back to camp. I wish I had had the courage to stay on my path, instead of trying to have the best of both lives. I thought Brokentail had brought the Clans nothing but grief, pain, and death.”

“But then… But then Fireheart told me about you. My grandson.” Even despite the tension in the air, Fireheart could hear the whimsical joy in her voice. “Despite all the suffering he caused, he left the world one gift - one beautiful, precious gift. A warrior that is wise, and strong, and kind - everything that Brokentail could never be.” She let out a hollow laugh that sounded a bit more like a sob. “It’s selfish of me, I know. I broke the code. I don’t deserve to even look at you, but I- You are everything that I wanted in a son. That is why I wanted to spend every moment I could giving you the love that I could never give my son.” She stared at him, her mouth working as she tried to find more words to explain, but there were none. “I don’t ask for forgiveness, but I- I hope you understand.”

Whitestorm was silent for a long moment, staring off into the distance as Yellowfang watched him pleadingly. At last he looked back in her direction, though he still didn’t meet her eyes. “I understand.” He mewed at last, though the words sounded forced. “I really do. But I… I think I need some time to think right now.”

“Please-” Yellowfang lunged forward, but Fireheart was there to stop her before she could reach her grandson. “Please don’t go! I’m sorry- I didn’t want to hurt you-!”

Whitestorm took a couple tottering steps away as he got to his feet. “I know.” he replied simply. “I know you didn’t. I understand what you’re saying, and I am not mad at you, but I- I need some time alone.” His voice sounded strained and monotone, as though the senior warrior didn’t really mean what he was saying.

“Let him go, Yellowfang.” Fireheart murmured, softly enough that only she could hear. “Remember how you reacted when I told you he was your grandson? You needed time to think then, and you weren’t mad at Whitestorm or me, were you?”

For another few heartbeats, the old healer strained against his shoulder, and he worried she hadn’t listened to him. Then she slumped back, suddenly defeated. “I- you’re right.” She replied just as quietly. “I- I’ll see you back at camp?” Yellowfang offered as Whitestorm began walking off. 

His only answer was a flick of his tail as he disappeared into the bushes.

The silence seemed to echo in the woods, filling Fireheart’s ears. At last Yellowfang turned to the ginger deputy, her face wrought with pain. “Oh, Fireheart… I messed that all up, didn’t I?”

He wished he could reassure her, but they both knew he couldn’t speak for Whitestorm now. “You did the best you could.” He replied at last, though he could hear how weak that sounded. “That may not be enough, but I think Whitestorm will recognize that. And I know he will hold to his word. Things may never be the same between the two of you, but it’s still better than never speaking to him again.”

His words did seemingly little to comfort Yellowfang as she turned away with a heavy sigh. “We better get back to camp. Dewpaw will be wondering where I am.” Her dark gray paws seemed to drag against the ground as she began leading the way back to camp. Fireheart followed her, his own heart suddenly a knot. He’d only been trying to help, but now he was afraid he had made everything worse. He’d been so sure he could handle this, but he’d messed up, just like he seemed to mess up everything else. How could he hope to handle an entire Clan when he couldn’t even get a grandmother and grandson to be on friendly terms?

[littlerainyghoul]

some tiny/regressed dew!? 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Of course <333

I added some caregiver Aether too, if you don't mind :>>

When It Rains It Pours

Summary: A bad thunderstorm wakes Dewdrop in the middle of the night, and finds Aether half asleep on the couch in the ghoul common room.

Words: 600

Pairings: Regressed Dewdrop and Caregiver Aether

CW: mentions of a thunderstorm

Dewdrop rose with his heart pounding, a sickening cold chill seeping down his spine  as the roaring thunder echoed loudly in his room. The sound of laborous rain pounded on his bedroom window. He tried to breathe, to calm himself but any efforts proved to be futile, as the storm barked ferociously, like a lion hunting its prey.

He stepped outside his bedroom, and tiptoed himself into the ghouls common room, where he was met with Aether, who was sprawled on the couch, deep in the transcendence between sleep and wakefulness. Dew turned on a soft light, careful to not startle the ghoul on the couch.

His hands shaky, he held onto his pajamas, as he anxiously pranced on the spot, wiggling his knees and flapping his elbows. He hesitated for a moment, before softly speaking

"Aether?"

Aether roused awake, concern raging in his eyes, as they fell upon the ghoul standing anxiously in front of him. He sighed, as he gestured for Dew to join him on the couch, seemingly notice the change.

"Are you...feeling small right now, Dew?" Aether asked, and a quick nod was all it took to confirm.

"I'm...scared, Aeae, can...I stay with you for a bit?"

"Hey, little droplet" Aether whispered, his voice flourishing with softness and comfort "you can stay here all you want"

"It's just a storm. We're safe here. You can be as small as you need to be right now."

He started to draw circles with his quintessence on Dew's palm, as he felt Dew relax slightly with his touch.

"...can...we...fire...and...cuddle...Aethy?"

"Yeah, of course, droplet" Aether lies down on the couch, as he lets Dewdrop rest his head against him, letting him listen to his heartbeat and the way his chest moved up and down.  Dewdrop, finding comfort in the cadence, closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the storm outside blend with the soothing presence beside him.

Aether gently stroked Dew's hair, his fingers moving in a rhythmic pattern, a gesture that attempted to calm the anxious ghoul down. The fire continued to dance, casting shadows that painted a serene tableau in the common room.

As Dewdrop rested, he still raised his head with every flash of light that filled the room, only to be gently guided back to Aether's chest as he had words whispered into his ear "breathe, little one, breathe, we'll weather any storm together, droplet."

"Aethy?" Dewdrop voiced himself, as he grabbed Aether's shirt

"Yes?"

"Thankies, Aethy, I love you"

"I love you too, darling" was Aether's response.

"Can you...tuck me in bed? I want...sleepy"

"Yes of course, darling" Aether's voice carried a delicate tone. He gently took Dew's hand and guided him to his room, he  lightly laid him on his bed. He covered the little ghoul with his favourite blankies, and planted a kiss on his forehead. The storm still rumbled on, but he felt a lot safer with the quintessence ghoul around him.

"...paci" Dew mewed, as he snuggled warm in the blankets.

"You want your dummy, firefly?"

Aether nodded, smiling gently. "Alright, let me grab it for you." He fetched Dewdrop's pacifier and handed it to him, his eyes glimmered as he noticed Dew gingerly flap  his hands with delight.

"Sleep well, little one."

Dewdrop nodded, his eyes heavy with drowsiness. "G'night, Aethy."

As Aether left the room, he glanced back one more time, ensuring Dew was settled. The storm continued its symphony outside, but within those walls, a quiet warmth enveloped the room.

Aether sighed, and turned around. He crawled into the bedsheets, snuggling Dew against his chest, as Dewdrop filled the room with light purring, which transitioned into an eloquent snore. Aether held Dewdrop close, their silhouettes faintly visible in the soft glow of the room.

[kits-shrine]

She was the one glancing to Tsukuyomi this time.

"Perhaps a nice... chilled sake?" he requested. Neko nodded happily "I will be glad to fetch it for mew."