#sit him next to the fox den to follow the fox

[readychilledwine]

Free Will

Eris Arranged Marriage – Drabble

Summary - Eris knew his father would purchase him a bride sooner rather than later.

Warnings - Arranged Marriage, alcohol use.

A/N - From one Vandaddy to the next.. May do more with this. May let it die. Too early to tell.

🔥Eris Masterlist🔥Master Masterlist🔥

You were beautiful, Eris would give his father that. Glowing skin enhanced from the moonlight kissing you. He had found you sitting in a window, looking outside like a bird now trapped in a glorified cage. You had disappeared from the festivities taking place, and he was tasked with finding you.

“How miserable,” he walked closer, noticing the half empty bottle of wine beside you. “Drinking alone in the dark, wife? You should have invited me. Mother knows I hate a boring celebration."

Your eyes met his, your cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy, “Did not realize my oh so powerful new husband would take pleasure in dark corners and," you paused to lift the bottle, squinting to read it. “Pomegranate wine.”

Eris only chuckled and took the bottle, drinking straight from it. “My favorite, actually.” He leaned against the window ypu sat in. He followed your eyes, noticing you were looking over the garden. “They say pomegranate is the origin of sin and the seasons.”

“The tales of the Dark Mother and Forest God. I know it well,” you held your hand out. Your new husband took another drink before handing it back to you, bottle now passing between you. “Legend says the Dark Mother had found him so beautiful she lured him to her with a snake of many colored scales. Once she had him in his poison garden, she gave him a choice.”

“Eat the pomegranate and stay with her,” Eris finished. “Or watch as she slowly killed the lands he loved. But by eating the seeds..” He smirked for you to finish.

“He upset the Mother. So she cursed the lands of the North with the seasons and turned his home into a barren land of ice and snow, his sister's into one haunted by rot and neverending harvest, his brothers into one trapped in the beginning of the rebirthing cycle and storms, and his parents in dead heat and drought.”

Eris looked you up and down. "They say the female of the species is always more deadly than the male." Eris sighed, “But his choice also unleashed freewill among the fae.”

"But it cost us the ability to connect with our true forms and shift. That power is now heavily reserved," Your voice seemed empty. As if the thought of that piece of you that was missing was more than just an animal but a symbol of freedom.

He studied you again, you leaned in to look into his eyes, “I do wonder what kind of animal would have been behind your skin, my wife. Are you a snake leading me to a trap? Are you a bird with clipped wings, desperate to fly away? Or are you a lioness, stalking and waiting for her chance to kill?”

Your lips twitched up. “You'll find I associate heavily with the symbol of our court, husband,” you looked him up and down, the tension between you two growing within every second. He could see it. He would see something cunning and intelligent hiding behind those drunk eyes.

A fox fits you well, and now, you were invading an enemy den.

Eris gave a smile that made chills run down your spine, “I think we will get along, y/n.” He took another swig of the wine finishing the bottle before picking you up and forcing you to hold his hand. “Our party awaits, my little wife. And more pomegranate wine.”He lead to you the ballroom, loud music and dancing in full swing as the fae celebrated the marriage of their heir apparent.

Eris poured two glasses, handing one to you, “To free will, my fox.”

The words were an offering, an understanding.

Your glass touched his, arms linking to drink as ceremony required. “To free will, husband.”

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 91 (Aftermath Edition)

When Weevilsight won't leave the medicine den, her sisters force her on a walk.

[Image ID: Weevilsight, Wolfgaze, and Ravenweaver sit in the snow together. Wolfgaze and Ravenweaver groom Weevilsight, who sits disconnected from the world while she vents about all the grief and sorrow of recent moons, all stemming from their mother. Art by @unfortunatereader.]

(Weevilsight: 26, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Wolfgaze: 26, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

(Ravenweaver: 26, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)

Washington provides a gentle and wise ear to Halibutdusk. He listens to Halibutdusk's grief and draws on his own recent losses to provide what little comfort he can.

[Image ID: Washington talks with Halibutdusk outside the medicine den. Halibutdusk sits, looking at their paws, while Washington lays beside him. Art by @smashgal.]

(Washington: 219, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)

(Halibutdusk: 83, nonbinary (they/them), warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

Vervaincough takes her grief and frustration out on Slushtrail.

[Image ID: There are two images that include Vervaincough and Slushtrail in the snow. In the first, Vervaincough yells at Slushtrail with tears falling down her cheeks, angry and hurt while Slushtrail listens like a good mediator. In the next, Slushtrail grooms Vervaincough's head and wraps her paws around her while Vervaincough leans in, continuing to cry. Art by @salt-clangen.]

(Vervaincough: 26, female, codekeeper, insecure, understands nature, good mediator)

(Slushtrail: 27, female, mediator, wise, clever, talented weaver)

Rattlepelt and Wildclaw share a nest in the nursery for the night.

[Image ID: A two-page comic showing Rattlepelt and Wildclaw in the nursery at night, curled around Midnightkit and Valleykit. The camp is tinted purple, but Rattlepelt and Wildclaw's eyes are bright. Rattlepelt wears her fox pelt with lavender woven into the fur and stuffed in the eye sockets. The pair have the following conversation, which ends in Wildclaw pulling Rattlepelt into the nest and the pair curling around their sons:

W: "Rattlepelt?"

W: "The kittens will get cold with just me in the nest, dear, come in."

R: "I... shouldn't."

W: "What's wrong now?"

R: "You know what it is..."

R: "Mousesong, then Carnationspeckle's kidnapping, then I get possessed and it leads to the death of a kit. And me and Mousesong are just like our little ones, all of them orphaned, and now..."

R: "It's me , isn't it? Why Trumpetspore's gone? I'm- I must be cursed, and now what will happen to the kittens? or my moms? Or you-"

-she gets yoinked-

W: "first off."

W: "my mate is not cursed. I'd know, having had an omen cat as kin."

R: "ough! What in Starclan's-"

W: "and second, I can protect myself."

W: "I can protect them, and I can protect you."

W: "But right now, they need their mama to also warm them up, no matter what circumstances led them to our care."

Art by @cappuccino-bear.]

(Wildclaw: 83, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Rattlepelt: 74, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Midnightkit: 0, male, kit, polite)

(Valleykit: 0, male, kit, quiet)

Surprise, everyone! I've been working with a few of my most vocal fans for a special moon update featuring proper art of your beloved cats! I am so grateful to everyone who agreed to draw a scene, especially since they had to keep some events secret for a while. I adore each piece. The individuality of each style is powerful and adds so much life to this. I promise happier moments ahead, even with the normal chaos of the Clans!

[betweenvalleys]

"She's fine, slightly shaken. She’s in my den now, working to get the tar off her paw.”

Warmmask sighs, moving to stretch out on the flat stones that stood as the tallest point in Pitchclan’s camp. The sun now fully painted the sky, washing the thick clouds in warm creams, yellows, and silver. The breezes had subsided, leaving the overarching grasses to sit comfortably in stillness, rustled only by movement of smaller beings, or the occasional cat leaving camp to travel. Warmmask’s focus had settled on the horizon for a brief moment, only to return to the companion relaxing next to him.

“Good, good. What a dramatic girl.” Raggedstar rumbles, smiling cheekily. She flops down against Warmmask’s back, tail flicking back and forth in a way that sent dust scattering below. The leader sighs, drawing a paw over her wiry whiskers and face before tucking it underneath her body. “How’s Spindlespots? A fox couldn’t have done much to him.” She purrs, leaning slightly to glance down at the earth below, where the healer’s den and nursery were tucked underneath the grass and brush. Spindlespots and Russetkestrel would be resting in the cool, underground dens, nestled comfortably in moss-spun nests. She lifts her head back up, returning her gaze to Warmmask, who nods.

“I believe he will be fine.” The healer begins with a sigh. “The fox bit him quite deeply. I’ve bandaged his pelt just behind the shoulder, and need to change it out every few days. Remind me to gather cobwebs tomorrow.” He purrs, lifting his head to look upwards. Raggedstar follows his gaze, curious. The painted clouds had darkened slightly, deepening into grays and blues as they ascended skyward. A small wind passed the pair, flooding their nostrils with the knowing scent of rain. Raggedstar grumbled, losing interest in the movement of weather, instead electing to rotate onto her back to soak up the fleeting moments of sun. “Get cobwebs tomorrow.” She rasps, tucking her paws on her belly, chuckling softly.

Warmmask doesn’t respond, eyes fixed on distant storms.

...

"I’m an idiot.”

Russetkestrel groans into the fur of Cricketleap, who sat stiffly next to the woeful deputy. The pair rested at the very end of the healer’s den, in a small, private tunnel that was often used for quarantining the sick. Instead, it quarantined the complaining from the rest of the clan.

“You are.” Cricketleap says, nodding his head. Russetkestrel quickly lifts her head and huffs, ears flattening to her skull. “You made a mistake and now Spindlespots has to deal with the consequences. But it’s fine.” He added, blinking slowly. His whiskers twitched in the silence between the two, Russetkestrel staring with a disgruntled look- before returning to rest her muzzle in the other warrior’s dark, rosetted fur. His ears flattened, but a quieted purr rumbled in his chest, clearly not fully discontent with the situation. He craned his neck to offer the white and ginger molly a lick between her ears before shifting to settle more comfortably.

Russetkestrel sighed, lifting her head. “At least you’re honest with me.” She mews quietly, looking at the tom’s face with a softened expression. A small soapweed flower was tucked delicately behind his fur, braided with the extreme precision of focused claws. She tilted her head to admire the pawwork, how the leaves wilted downwards and framed the side of Cricketleap’s cheek.

Warmmask gave it to me.” Cricketleap states matter of factly, noticing her curiosity.

“Why?”

“He felt bad that I was put on babysitting duty.”

Russetkestrel gasps and shoves Cricketleap’s shoulder. Cricketleap chuckles, tucking his tail around his body. “No, no. He just thought I would like it. Hollyhockstripe likes it, too. Apparently it attracts butterflies.” He purrs.

Russetkestrel lifts a brow. “Like the butterfly he and Swanstone spent all of last week trying to save?”

“Like that one.” Cricketleap smiles fondly.

Russetkestrel shrugs her shoulders and huffs. “I can’t believe that he’s kinder to bugs than the rest of us.” She pauses. “And I can’t believe Swanstone went along with it! Those two make no sense, they’re cold then they’re warm, holier than thou complainers.”

Cricketleap frowns. “You are the complainer. Swanstone saved your hide, too. I wouldn’t speak poorly of him or Hollyhockstripe.” His eyes narrow, and he turns his back to Russetkestrel, resting his chin on his paws. He sighs, tail flicking. Sunlight manages to filter to the far end of the den, making the haze and dust that floated through the underground air glitter in its light. It settles on their pelts, the whispers of warmth lulling both to sleep.

Russetkestrel huffs again, rolling her eyes. Something tugs at her chest while the light tugs at her eyes. A small sigh escapes her maw before she tucks her head, covering it with her claws, forming into a tight knit ball against Cricketleap’s side.

...

MOON ONE - PART TWO

Warmmask and Raggedstar enjoy each other’s company.

Russetkestrel often goes to Cricketleap for guidance.

Hollyhockstripe and Swanstone take care of an injured butterfly, nurturing it until it can fly again.

[anonymous-dentist]

Part One

Once Upon a Time...

Cellbit and the god walk out of the tavern just as the sun is starting to rise and the storm is starting to break.

The God of Chaos stretches his arms above his head and yawns.

At some point in the, well, chaos, Cellbit could've sworn that the god had eight arms and just as many eyes; fangs and claws and a laugh sharp enough to cut glass. But, now, he almost looks normal minus a pair of blood red eyes.

But Cellbit can See him. And he hates him.

(Spiders... why is it always spiders!?)

Cellbit walks silently, hood up and hands in his cloak's pockets. He's bleeding, he can feel his shirt soaking through somewhere under his ribcage, but he can't quite bring himself to care; he's a dead man walking, whether he dies sooner rather than later doesn't matter.

("Once upon a time," He said, "there was a fox and a rabbit.")

Everybody who was in the tavern may or may not be dead. Some, he knows, are: the tavern keeper (arrow to the eye), and a woman sitting near the front door (ripped apart by a wolf.) But others are... well. He can fix them.

Cellbit keeps his head down. He can see blood, still-drying, on the tops of his boots and staining the cuffs of his trousers. Most of it, he knows, are the god's.

The God of Chaos nudges Cellbit's upper arm with his elbow (he's taller, but just barely, just enough for Cellbit to wonder if the god is normally this tall or if he's just trying to fuck with him.)

"Soooo..." he says, "I'm Roier."

"I Know," Cellbit quietly responds.

("It was a very hot summer, and the fox and the rabbit were waiting by the watering hole. There was only one in the forest, and so it was running low on water. "'Oh, my!' the fox exclaimed. 'I fear I may die of thirst!' "'Worry not, my friend,' said the rabbit. 'It will be our turn soon enough.' 'Ah, but my kits!' the fox cried. 'They are still too small to leave the den, and all I have is this one bottle to bring back to them!'")

"And you are...?"

The God of Chaos trails off into a question.

Cellbit huffs out a dry laugh through his nose.

"Aren't you a god?" he taunts.

"Okay, and? I'm not Antoine." He grins, blinding. "I'm Roier!"

Oh, Cellbit knows who he is. everybody part of Connaissance knows each and every legend he's in; Cellbit grew up hearing the name 'Roier' in the same breath as 'danger'. Chaos' followers were to be hunted down and exterminated. (Jaiden and Foolish, of course, are the exceptions to that.)

(Subtly, Cellbit takes a step to the side as he walks. Old habits die hard, and all that.)

"They said my name. In the tavern," Cellbit supplies.

Chaos shrugs. "Eh."

Quiet.

The forest around the village is starting to wake up: birds are singing, leaves are rustling. The monsters inside hiss as sunlight starts to hit them.

The village itself is still asleep. Hopefully it'll stay that way until Cellbit and his new shadow are long gone (he does not want to deal with guards on top of whoever He is going to send next.)

("By the time the fox and the rabbit reached the watering hole, there was barely any water left," He said. "The fox wrung its paws, thinking of her thirsty kits back home. And the rabbit watched.")

Cellbit stifles a yawn, ears and tail twitching.

(His hands are starting to itch, fuck. He thought he had finally found something he isn't allergic to...)

They leave the village and disappear into the forest, and Cellbit has absolutely no idea where he's going. And it's thrilling. It would be even better if he didn't haven't a debt hanging over his head.

("'My friend', said the rabbit, 'I can see that you are worried. So let me help you, we are neighbors and friends, and I care for you very much. Because of this, I will take your bottle and fill it rather than drink for myself, and I will run quickly to deliver it to your kits while you drink.' "The fox," He said, "trusted her friend and agreed. She handed the rabbit the bottle, and the rabbit, indeed, filled the bottle and ran towards their homes.")

The God of Chaos starts to hum under his breath.

Cellbit's ears twitch again; there wasn't much music with Connaissance. It's still a little weird to hear it just so casually.

Chaos' coat shifts with every step. And, with every step, Cellbit can see a hint of his knife (his fucking knife-) hanging from a loop in Chaos' belt.

The village must be waking up, because here's a scream so sharp and sudden that it sends a couple of deer running in front of the two of them in a blind panic.

The poor people still themselves inside of the tavern must be moving, too, because more and more people are starting to shout and scream, and someone specifically starts yelling about there being a fucking shark inside of the tavern and, oh, gods, is that a fucking dragon!?

Cellbit bites back his laugh, just barely.

The God of Chaos, though, lets out a little giggle and shoots Cellbit a mischievous look out of the corner of his eye, a smirk on his face.

"Well?" he teasingly asks.

Cellbit's mouth twitches. "'Well'?"

Chaos takes a step closer, leaning in just so slightly, head tilted towards Cellbit just so slightly. His smirk has turned to a smile; somehow, his humming has continued.

"What do you think?" he asks. "Was I helpful?"

(Another scream, this one a name.)

"'Cause I'm pretty sure they've forgotten allll about you by now."

("The fox," He said, "drank her fill and hurried home. But, when she got there, all she could do was scream.")

"And!" Chaos adds, cutting in before Cellbit can even think of responding. "I've got a feeling those other guys won't be coming for you any time soon."

Cellbit nods begrudgingly. "He'll have to come out here and cure them, and that'll take at least an hour per person. Probably more if-" (He grimaces.) "-Lord Knowledge is... occupied."

If Chaos picks up on the emphasis or the obvious distaste, he doesn't comment on it. (His eyes do light up- literally!- though, which may be worse.)

"Soooo...."

The God of Chaos trails off expectantly.

Cellbit ducks his head with a tense sigh. Of course.

"You were... very helpful," he admits. "I'd probably dead or back in chains if it wasn't for you."

The God of Chaos straightens back up. And then he fist-pumps with a hissed, "Yesssss!"

Cellbit decides to bite the bullet and ask the question that's been weighing on him for hours while Chaos is in a good mood:

"What do I owe you, then?"

(He gasped, "What was it?" He shot him a sharp glare. "Patience, Prophet. I was about to get to it." He cleared His throat, and then He continued: "In front of the fox's den was the Farmer beating the fox's kits with a cudgel. "The rabbit quickly appeared by the fox's side holding the empty bottle. "'I brought them the water,' said the rabbit. 'But then I realized that we would never have enough water in the forest if we have to continue quenching so many mouths.' "The fox cried and wept and prayed to His Lordship, but the Farmer continued beating the kits until they were dead. "'Here's the last one!' the rabbit shouted, pointing at the grieving fox. "The fox tried to run, but the Farmer was faster. "As the fox died, the Farmer gave the rabbit a carrot and a fresh bottle filled with water. "And thus the deal was completed.")

Chaos' smile flickers; Cellbit doesn't have to See him to know he's confused.

"Nothing, man," he answers. "We're even."

No way...

Rain starts to fall again.

Cellbit frowns. "I'm sorry?"

Chaos shrugs, unsure; Cellbit Knows it.

"We're even," the God of Chaos repeats. "You don't owe me anything. We're good, man. Don't worry about it."

Okay, but Cellbit is worrying. They're even, but he hasn't done anything for them to be even over. And he Knows how the gods work: nothing comes for free; payment usually comes in the form of worship, but Cellbit is done with praying.

So...

Uncomfortably, Cellbit says, "You... mentioned going to your place back at the-"

Chaos cuts him off, wide-eyed and frozen in place. "Ah, no! No, no! No, I was just trying to- to help! We don't have to-"

Cellbit visibly relaxes.

"Oh, thank the gods," he wheezes, hiding his face in his hands. (The makeup smells like sweat and blood by now, but he ignores it.)

A pause. Then:

"You're welcome?"

Cellbit can't help it. He laughs, a sharp little bark of a thing that surprises himself with how sudden it is.

Eyes closed, he can clearly See the God of Chaos' true monstrous form smiling in sheer obvious deligh.

Cellbit's tail flickers in annoyance. His ears threaten to lay flat in fear. The God of Chaos is delighted by him. Great.

"Tell you what," Chaos says, hidden laughter in his voice, "You want to pay me back? Call me by my name."

He pokes Cellbit's forehead where it's peeking out between his fingers.

Cellbit lowers his hands and gives Chaos a confused look.

The God of Chaos just keeps smiling, and he almost looks human doing it.

"I can hear your big brain thinking."

Another pause, slightly more awkward.

"Not literally!" Chaos is quick to add. "But all you humans are so formal, just. Uh. I'm Roier, okay?"

He extends a gloved hand.

Cellbit looks at it for a long, unsure moment.

Hesitantly, he takes it.

"Cellbit," he replies.

"I know," Roier, the God of Chaos, grins.

(And, somehow, Cellbit feels like another deal has been made.)

-

A/N: Let me know what you think in the tags or in my inbox! I want to hear your theories, thoughts, opinions, everything!

[vuelode-irbis]

El-ahrairah's blessing part 2/3 !!

This was my favorite part to work on, and I recorded a speedpaint!!

ID: a digital drawing that tells a fraction of the story of El-ahrairah (Watership down). The illustration starts with text that reads "But first", being followed by the drawing of a rabbit's eye open and colored in yellows. The text continues with "they must catch you," and shows a rabbit running towards a field in the right, being followed by the shadowy figures of a fox and an owl's leg, about to catch him. The next illustration has the words "digger", "listener" and "runner" separated, as they follow the image of El-ahrairah sitting down in brown and purple tones, a den in grey is behind him, and bright cyan squares pinpoint his ears, forelegs and hindleg. The lineart on him is triplicated and moved slightly to the sides, colored with bright blue and orange. The text ends with "Prince with the swift warning". End ID.

[takaraphoenix]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by the wonderful @clareguilty and who am I to resist the temptation of posting sneak peeks? ;D

Tagging @blairwaldcrf @kimmycup @miazeklos @kymera219

Now, have an excerpt from Murder and Mischief, the sequel to Murder Triad that I'm currently working on!

--

“Remember when we first came to London and I said that there was still… unfinished business I wanted to take care of in the US at some point?”

Stiles hopped onto the table right next to the box, turning to face his pack. No and Peter exchanged a look, something between curiosity and intrigue. The betas all stood in a half-circle around Stiles, attentively listening to him with varying degrees of frowns on their faces.

“You want to kill someone,” Isaac said slowly. “Because that’s what you did before.”

Boyd and Erica had gone into graphic detail on how Gerard had died. For every crime he’d ever committed against them. The kidnapping and torture of Stiles, Boyd and Erica. The involvement in the Hale Fire – though he may not have set it himself, there was no denying that he had condoned his daughter’s actions, that he had set his daughter onto this genocidal path to begin with.

Stiles pressed his lips together and nodded, a serious look on his face. That also changed the pack’s mood though, because he was very rarely serious. He quipped and snarked even through life threatening danger. Stiles’ eyes landed on Derek.

“Kate Argent is still alive,” Stiles offered softly.

“I tore out her throat myself,” Peter argued with a growl and a flash of red eyes.

“Yeah. You, an Alpha werewolf, dug your claws really deep into her,” Stiles glowered at the floor. “It turned her. I found out a couple months ago. Been keeping tabs on the hunters who stayed in Beacon Hills with Kate and Gerard. Listening in on what goes on in the hunter world. Kate’s alive.”

“Alive and a werewolf?” Jackson asked tensely.

“Nope,” Stiles offered a mirthless smile. “The shape reflects the person. In her case, that is some… weird, blue abomination version of a jaguar for some reason. I saw pictures. They’re not flattering.”

“Months,” Derek repeated lowly, arms crossed oh so tightly over his chest. “You’ve known she is alive for months. Why didn’t you…”

“Didn’t have anything concrete,” Stiles shook his head. “Rumored whispers. No leads. Didn’t want to bring down the mood with something that either may have still turned out to be nothing, or something that we couldn’t follow up on.”

The Nogitsune stepped up to him, resting a hand high on Stiles’ thigh as he leaned in, head tilted to whisper into his ear. “But now you found her? And you want to kill her?”

“Well, I wanted to offer Derek, Peter and Cora that part, on account of, ya know, the fire,” Stiles couldn’t help but lean into No. “But yeah, end-goal is her being permanently dead. I was thinking burning the body afterward until there is only ash left that can not even be resurrected.”

“Poetic,” No purred, licking a stripe up Stiles’ neck.

“Behave, demon,” Stiles hissed, pushing the Nogitsune off some. “The betas are still in the room.”

“You can’t talk about murder and expect me not to get aroused,” No frowned at him.

“You people are so fucking weird,” Jackson muttered with a shake of his head.

Thankfully, Peter had mercy on Stiles and the pack and grabbed the Nogitsune around the waist to pull him off their Spark. The fox hissed at him displeased but let it happen, for now.

“I know where she is. I know what she is. I know how to kill her. I know how to kill her protectors – that’s what’s in the box. She has been gathering Berserkers, which are a little harder to kill than hunters. So… Again, none of you have to go. You can stay here, safe in our den.”

“If you think we’ll let you go back on your own, you are out of your mind, Batman,” Erica frowned at him. “I may sit out the killing itself, the whole Gerard thing was… a lot. But I’ll still come.”

“We both are,” Boyd clarified, wrapping one arm around his mate and reaching out for Stiles with his other. “You brought us back to life. We’re in this together.”

“Yeah, I may not be ‘you resurrected me’ indebted to you, but you’re Alpha Mate of our pack. You’re pack. And this is about avenging our pack,” Isaac raised his eyebrows.

“We’re all in this together,” Jackson confirmed.

[cozzzynook]

Turbo Fox Preceptor and Roddy Idea but with Angst

Preceptor ran as fast as his paws could carry him, dodging and weaving through twisted branches and traps set by the Enforces who were hunting him. A sharp jolt of pain shot through the red turbo fox causing him to lose his footing making him stumble and fall, his helm had barely stopped spinning before a net was thrown over him trapping the turbo fox. The Enforces laughed mocking him before they roughly shoved the carrying fox into a small cage before taking him to a dark strange van.

Hours passed before Percy was able to see a slither of light again, with a low growl as he snapped at the strange bots who picked up his cage before moving him into a strange looking kennel. Percy crept slowly into the cold cell sniffing the air before flopping into make shift nest, the pain only grew worse with each passing moment. This is not how Percy wanted to his pups to see the world...they should have been safe inside a warm den not a freezing prison. A soft little cry followed by gentle nuzzling broke Percy out of his trance, with gentle licks the red turbo fox carefully cleaned his tiny red and gold pup who was slowly crawling towards his carrier's belly seeking warmth. Preceptor gazed lovely at his pup feeling pride fill his spark as he carefully coiled himself around the tiny frame. "I promise you, I'll find a way out for us my little fire" Percy whispered before drifting off to sleep.

A month passes before Preceptor is able to find a possible way out. He has memorised the patrol pattens of the guards who come by every morning and evening to drop off rations before heading into their office to watch the cameras. If he is able to grab the keys and slip by the cameras with Hot Rod it will be a clean break. Meanwhile Roddy is busy chewing a hole into his new bedding unaware of his carrier's scheming, "Carrier, I'm bored...Isn't there anything better to do than stare at the same 4 walls all day?" The little pup trotted up to sit next to his Carrier fuzz still coating his muzzle. With a soft smile and a gentle lick the red fox gave a sigh before wrapping his tail around his bitty. "Hopefully you'll get to see the sun soon my little fire...soon I promise" Percy glanced back at the main door before nudging his bitty to take a nap.

It was late into the night when Preceptor had carefully unlocked the door, a quick glance down the halls making sure the coast was clear before he carefully picked up Roddy by his scruff. Quickly and quietly he trotted down the hall before slipping into one of the air vents that lead to the outside. Everything was going well until the sound of angry voices and footsteps grew closer, with a panicked yelp Percy dropped Hot Rod before nudging the bitty to run towards a dark alleyway "Run Hot Rod! Don't look back and keep going!" With a whimper the little pup ran as fast as his paws could go. Halfway Roddy suddenly heard a loud bang followed by a sharp cry that sounded like his carrier, with shut optics he ran faster before diving behind some boxes in the alley. Hot Rod sat hidden waiting, hope and wishing his Carrier would come looking...but he never did. With a tired sigh the young fox crept out of hiding spot and began trotting down the streets unsure where he was going, he kept walking until he bumped into the legs of a gruff looking mech with teal blue paint. "Well ain't you a little young to be away from your pack kid?" The old mech grumbled as he kneeled down to look the turbo fox in the optic. Roddy gave a whimper before shaking his head, the old mech sighed before petting the pup's helm "I see, Don't worry kid...old Kup will look after yer now" The mech smiled before scouping the pup in his arms "You got a name kid?" Roddy gave small smile before wagging his tail before answering "Hot Rod" The gruff mech smiled as they walked further down the street towards some apartments. "Well Hot Rod, welcome to the wreckers kid...we'll make sure yer well taken care of now"

(Hope you enjoyed, I wanted to give a bittersweet ending with a twist on how Roddy became a wrecker in this little AU) :D

Krilslfj 😭😭😭😭

[softtashoney]

CHAPTER FIVE: ATSUMU MIYA

WORD COUNT: 5K+

It was Friday morning when YN looked at herself in the mirror, tugging at the hem of her white sundress. The day was expected to be warmer than usual, but she figured it would be fine—after all, she wasn’t going to be outside for long. She was heading over to Suna’s house, just a few blocks away, to hang out and bake some cinnamon rolls. They weren’t filming for YouTube today or anything; maybe take a few photos, but mostly it would just be a casual day catching up and enjoying each other's company.

It took her roughly six minutes to get to her friend's house. It was pretty large, not too different from the place she had moved into with the boys. After all, Suna was in a content house as well, The Fox Den. To her knowledge, she’d met everyone there except for Osamu’s mysterious brother, the one who was always setting things on fire, and the wholesome farmer friend who posted sweet videos of his animals and crops.

She knocked on the door, and after a few moments and what sounded like bickering, Osamu swung it open. “Well, look who it is,” he grinned. “Heard you’re baking some cinnamon rolls with Suna today.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. Osamu had a passion for all things food.

“I am,” YN replied, crossing her arms. “Are you going to let me in, or should I continue to stand out here freezing?” She arched an eyebrow, a subtle smirk tugging at her lips.

Osamu rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, “Sorry for keeping you out in the cold for too long, your highness.” He stepped back, sweeping his arm out to gesture for her to come inside.

YN laughed at his antics. “So… where’s the kitchen?”

Osamu nodded down the hallway and started walking, gesturing for her to follow. As they moved, she noticed photos and memorabilia scattered across the walls. He led her into a spacious kitchen with sparkling white marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. It looked like something out of a five-star restaurant. Then again, she supposed that made sense—Osamu did live here.

“I was starting to think you scared her off,” Suna remarked from the side, sitting on a barstool at the counter. He gestured toward the fridge and the counter next to it. “I’ve got everything set up. We can start whenever.”

YN laughed. “It’ll take more than poor ol’ Samu to scare me off.” She plopped down next to Suna and nudged him with her elbow. “So, do you actually know how to make cinnamon rolls, or is this going to end in disaster?”

Suna looked at her with mock offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Excuse me? I can bake just fine. I’m not a kitchen hazard like someone’s annoying twin brother.”

Osamu snorted. “Yeah, ‘Tsumu’s not allowed in the kitchen without supervision until he proves himself to me.” He scowled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the kitchen island. “The rental agency said if the fire department gets called again, they’ll charge us a hefty fine.”

YN snickered at the thought of it. She glanced between the two disgruntled men in the kitchen. “We’ve hit a sore subject. How about we start making those cinnamon rolls, yeah?” She stood up, lightly patting her thighs before looking around for an apron. “You wouldn’t happen to have an apron I can borrow, would you? I don’t want to ruin my dress.”

Suna raised an eyebrow. “Why’d you wear a white dress when you knew we’d be baking? It’s like you’re asking for it to get stained.” He rolled his eyes but opened the pantry door, reaching inside to grab a bundle of fabric. Without warning, he tossed it at her, making her fumble slightly before she caught it.

She huffed as she pulled it over her head and tied it around her waist. “I wanted to wear it. I think it looks cute.”

Osamu grinned. “You women sure are somethin’ else.”

At that, YN spun around, pointing an accusing finger at him, her eyes narrowing. “Watch what you say, Osamu. I’ll be holding a knife, and you don’t want to test my patience.”

“Woah, woah,” a deep, velvety voice interjected, drawing the attention of everyone in the kitchen. “What would your brother say if he heard you threatening someone with bodily harm?” Aran stood in the entryway, his gym bag slung over his shoulder and a lighthearted grin pulling at his lips.

“Aran!” YN exclaimed, quickly forgetting about Osamu as she bounded over to him and gave him a hug. “It’s so good to see you!” She grinned up at him as she pulled away. “How’s my fur-nephew?”

“He’s good,” Aran replied with a chuckle. “Right now he’s napping upstairs. He had some catnip last night that Kita brought over. He wore himself out real good.”

YN cooed at the thought of the fluffy orange kitten. “Are you going to practice today?”

“The gym. Your brother and I have training scheduled. He says I’ve been slacking off, so I know I’m in for it.”

The two shared a knowing look of mutual discomfort. Hajime was a damn taskmaster when it came to Muay Thai; he didn’t know how to go easy on anyone—not even his younger sister. If you were training with him, you’d better be ready to work until you dropped, and then some. Of course, he wouldn’t let anyone get injured, but his idea of training was pushing limits and shattering them to help people grow.

“I’ll let you go, then,” YN said sympathetically. “Don’t want him making you do extra drills for being late.”

Aran laughed heartily and gave her a light pat on the head. “I’m off then. Good to see you, YN.” He readjusted his shoulder strap and turned to leave.

“You too!” she called after him, waving even though his back was already turned.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, she turned back toward Suna and Osamu. “Now, let’s get started, shall we?”

Once they finish prepping the cinnamon rolls, the trio sits around the kitchen island, idly conversing and eating a light breakfast that Osamu whipped up while the other two were baking. YN sits with her back to the fridge, munching on some fresh rice that their friend Kita had brought early that morning.

A series of bangs and grumbles echo from upstairs, followed by the sound of feet shuffling down the stairs. YN glances up to see who she assumes is Osamu’s twin brother stumbling into the kitchen. His eyes are barely open, and his hair is in complete disarray. He yanks open a cupboard and slams a cup onto the counter. He doesn’t seem to do this out of anger, more out of sheer unawareness. From what YN can tell, he hasn’t quite registered that there are other people in the kitchen.

She watches as he opens the fridge, grabs a bright red juice container, and haphazardly pours it into the glass. After he puts the container away, he grabs the cup and starts walking toward the island, still half-asleep and unfocused. Everything seems to go in slow motion from there. His foot catches on seemingly nothing, and he stumbles toward her, spilling juice from the cup onto her cream-white dress. As he falls, he catches the back of her chair, knocking it off balance with his sudden weight.

YN squeals as she tries to launch herself off the falling chair, but her dress snags on the corner, sending her to the floor beneath it. Her dress is now stained red, and a few threads are ripped. She doesn’t even register the pain of the fall, too mortified by what’s just happened. It was a gift from Alisa, a very expensive one, straight off the runway from last summer—a one-of-a-kind by Asahi himself. Her eyes begin to water slightly as she clutches the fabric, staring down at the ruined dress.

Osamu and Suna are by her side within moments, removing the chair and lifting her to her feet. Suna gently guides her back down to sit while Osamu launches into reaming his clumsy brother. “Look what you did, ‘Tsumu! Ya nearly killed the damn girl and ruined her pretty dress. What do you think Ma’s gonna say when she hears about this mess?”

Atsumu blinks, still dazed, then looks at YN as though he's only now realizing she’s there. “Oh.” He says, clearly dumbfounded, unsure of what more he could say to fix the situation. He’s still half asleep, and his brain isn’t quite functioning yet.

YN, now mostly composed, levels an icy glare at him as he scrambles to his feet. “I see why you told me to bring a baseball bat now, Rin.” Her tone is sharp and clipped.

Slowly, Atsumu’s brain kicks into gear, and with horror, he realizes what he’s done. “Let me buy you a new one. I’m so sorry,” he pleads, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. Now that he can think clearly, guilt seeps into his bones as he stares at the ruined designer dress. After being with Kiyoko for several years, he’s learned to recognize valuable clothing at a glance, and he knows this is something she would have killed him for ruining.

“It’s fine.” YN looks away from him, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. At this point, Suna had slunk away to his bedroom to find something for her to wear. When he returns, he’s holding up a frilly black-and-white maid outfit. Before he can even get the words out, YN seethes. “Absolutely fucking not.”

Osamu whistles lowly. “Alright, darlin’, you’re upset, so why don’t you run home, get changed, and try to salvage your dress? I’ll help Rin finish up the cinnamon rolls so they’re ready for ya when you get back.” He slips out of his zip-up sweatshirt and drapes it across her shoulders. “You can borrow this to cover up the stains while you head home.”

YN sighs and slowly stands, gathering her phone, keys, and purse. Once she’s all set, she zips up the jacket and heads toward the door. “Thanks, Samu. I’ll let you guys know when I’m heading back.” It only takes her a few strides to reach the front door, but just as she’s about to close it, a foot stops it from shutting.

“Wait!”

YN bristles, her muscles tightening as she turns to face the culprit of this whole ordeal.

“Please, let me buy you a new dress. One of my closest friends is a supermodel, and if I ever did to her what I did to you, she’d murder me in cold blood.” Atsumu stands in front of her, clasping his hands together. His hair is still a mess, and his pajamas are all rumpled up.

YN inhales sharply, trying to keep herself from snapping at the earnest man. “This dress was a gift from my supermodel best friend. Alisa Habia. I’m sure you’ve heard of her?”

Atsumu’s ears perk up with recognition. “Yeah! My friend Kiyoko Shimizu works with her all the time. She’s amazing and super down-to-earth.”

YN blinks, processing this. “Oh,” she hums, thinking for a moment. “That makes sense then, why Osamu knew who she was the other night.”

“Wait, you know Kiyo?”

“Yeah, we have a girl’s day planned for this weekend.”

“Oh, wow.” Atsumu grimaces. “I definitely gotta buy you a new dress then. Cause once she finds out and knows I didn’t make it up to you, she’ll rip me apart.”

At this point, YN feels herself give in. The man’s too damn persistent. She throws her hands in the air in exasperation. “Alright, fine! You can buy me a new dress. But I need to go get changed first, okay?”

Atsumu’s lips stretch into a brilliant grin, and YN swears she’s going to go blind if she stares at him any longer. “Can I run inside to put some clothes on real quick? Then we can just leave from your house? Promise it’ll take me five minutes!”

YN groans. “Fine. Five minutes, but if you take any longer, I’m leaving without you.” She shoos him away. While she waits, she shoots off a text to Alisa.

By the time the girls finish exchanging texts, Atsumu meets YN outside, his hair neatly combed and wearing appropriate street attire. “Ya ready, sweetheart?”

YN rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Just follow me, and when we get inside, don’t talk to any of the other guys… please. It’ll give me an even bigger headache than you already gave me.”

The duo successfully makes it inside without encountering any of her housemates. YN instructs Atsumu to sit on her bed while she rifles through her closet for a new outfit. She settles on a simple sweater and skirt combo, topped with a large peacoat to tie it all together. “I have to take pictures of the dress for Asahi, so it may take me a few minutes,” she tells him before stepping into her adjoined bathroom.

It only takes about ten minutes to get the photos for Asahi and change into her new outfit. Before she exits the room, she quickly snaps a photo and uploads it to Twitter.

When she opens the door, she finds Atsumu still sitting on her bed, looking around the room. “Is this a new setup?” he asks, gesturing to her work area. He seems to appreciate the theme and gear. After a beat, he realizes how it might sound. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to sound like a weirdo. I’ve just, uh, watched a few of your videos before.”

YN snorts. “Yeah, it’s a new setup. Don’t worry about sounding weird. I’ve watched a few of you and Osamu’s videos, too. Rin likes to send me bloopers you guys don’t add to the actual uploads.”

Atsumu blinks, his mind a little dazed. He can’t believe she’s seen any of his content—much less the embarrassing bloopers. Internally, he curses Suna. Whatever she’d seen had to be mortifying.

“Well, let’s head out now, yeah?” she asks, gesturing toward the bedroom door with her purse secured over her shoulder.

“Yeah…” Atsumu gets to his feet and follows her.

The two reach the bottom of the steps when a voice calls out from the hallway. “Who’s this doll?”

YN looks over to see Issei walking up to them with a shit-eating grin. “Sneaking unknown men into the house? What would your fiancé think?”

“Shut up.” YN glances over at Atsumu. “This is Osamu’s brother. I don’t even know him, but he ruined my favorite white dress and wouldn’t take no for an answer about buying me a new one.”

Issei whistles lowly, raising an eyebrow as he looks at Atsumu. “Well, just be careful. Don’t step another toe out of line, or this one might kick your ass.”

“Issei!” YN huffs, clearly embarrassed.

Atsumu chuckles, looking between the duo. Their dynamic is entertaining, to say the least. “Samu did say you knocked him out the other day,” he says with a grin, enjoying the annoyed look on YN���s face.

Another voice chimes in. “YN, what did I tell you about knocking people out? Especially people we consider our friends?” Hajime walks up beside Issei, shaking his head in mock disappointment, one hand on his hip.

“Knocked him out?!” YN whips around to face her brother, eyes wide. “All I did was knock him on his ass and take a few shopping bags! He was fine!”

“Wow.” Hanamaki strolls into the room, clearly amused. “I’m surprised you didn’t put him in the hospital with that ridiculous gorilla strength of yours.”

Before YN can defend herself, Tooru comes up behind her, giving her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Now, now, boys. Stop bullying our dear YN-chan.” He pats her head lightly, grinning. “Your brother’s right, though. You can’t just go around beating people up. I’m much too beautiful to bail you out of a jail cell. Can you imagine how bad my skin would look under those fluorescent lights?”

YN clenches her fists, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

“Eh, beat up whoever you want. I’ll come post your bail since none of these pansies would ever step foot inside a jail—except maybe your brother. But we both know he’d make you stay overnight.” Kyotani takes a seat on the couch, giving her a thumbs up.

YN yanks her purse tighter against herself, stifling a scream of frustration. “I’m leaving!” she declares, storming out of the doorway. She forgets about poor Atsumu, who quickly waves goodbye to the others before hastily following after the enraged woman.

Just before the door closes, the group shouts their goodbyes. “Love you, YN!”

Atsumu can’t help but laugh as he watches the smaller girl stomp down the sidewalk. She looks over her shoulder at him with a nasty glare. “What?!”

This makes him laugh harder. “You!”

Her face goes blank. “Oh, is that so?” she mutters, turning away and continuing down the sidewalk, pointedly not looking in his direction.

Atsumu grins, sidling up next to her. “Yer so frustrated, it’s cute—like an angry kitten.”

YN inhales sharply, trying to contain her anger. “Whatever. Where are you taking me, Miya?”

“Hey, hey, call me Atsumu. You know Samu and I both, so it just gets confusin’.” He grins, his tone lighthearted. “But to answer yer question, I’m takin’ ya to one of Kiyo’s favorite stores. I know you’re gonna love it.”

They end up at a smaller but high-end boutique tucked away in the shopping district. The sleek displays and soft, ambient music make the space feel exclusive, and YN’s bad mood begins to ebb as she moves between the racks. She loses herself in the luxurious fabrics and bold designs, her irritation slowly replaced by curiosity.

After a good half hour, she’s amassed a decent pile of clothing in her arms. When she’s done trying everything on, she steps out of the fitting room and hands one of the dresses over to Atsumu.

“This one’s a keeper,” she says, attempting a small smile.

“Nuh-uh,” Atsumu replies, crossing his arms. “That dress I ruined was one of a kind, so hand it all over.”

“Atsumu, I can’t—”

“Nope. No choice.” He leans forward, grinning, and plucks the entire pile from her arms with ease. “This isn’t even half the value of that dress, and ya know it.”

“But—” Before she can finish, he’s already striding toward the register.

“Atsumu!” she calls after him, her voice half an exasperated whisper to avoid causing a scene.

He ignores her, sliding his card across the counter with a flourish. “Can we get these delivered?” he asks the clerk, rattling off his address like it’s second nature.

Finally turning back to her, he flashes a triumphant grin. “Sorry, sweetheart. I ain’t lettin’ you pay for anything today.”

Her glare is sharp, but he barrels on. “Now, why don’t we make a day of it and grab somethin’ to eat, yeah?”

“I’m not—” YN’s stomach growls softly, betraying her.

Atsumu smirks. “Not what? Hungry?”

She sighs, reluctantly crossing her arms. “...Fine. What did you have in mind?”

YN isn’t sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t a tucked-away hole-in-the-wall restaurant that seemed almost invisible to passersby. The kind of place you only knew existed if someone had brought you there before. Atsumu greets the staff by name as he leads her to a small table in the back, his familiarity making the space feel oddly intimate.

“What is this place?” she asks, her eyes tracing the swirls of reds, oranges, and yellows that adorn the walls. The air is thick with spices, the aroma so enticing that her stomach rumbles faintly.

“It’s my secret getaway here in the city,” Atsumu says, pulling out a chair for her. “Indian food. Shoulda asked if you were a fan first… but I promise, it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever eaten.”

True to his words, every dish she tries is a revelation. The rich curries and tender, fragrant dishes make her forget everything else. By the time the sun dips below the horizon, their table is a clutter of empty plates, glasses of soda, and lemonades. Somehow, hours have passed in a blur of conversation, the kind that pulls you in so deeply you lose track of time.

Glancing at her phone for the first time all day, YN’s heart plummets. Her lock screen is flooded with notifications—texts from her friends, her family, and a handful of missed calls from Haru. One message in particular makes her stomach churn.

“Shit.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks at her, taken aback. “Everything alright, sweetheart?” His tone is light, almost teasing. “Your roommates think I’ve kidnapped ya or somethin’? I can getcha home before they send a search party.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, his grin disarming.

But YN doesn’t respond right away. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, her mind spiraling. Days of missed chances to talk to Haru and now… this. She had completely forgotten about their call. How could she let this slip?

“It’s nothing,” she says finally, forcing a smile that feels brittle. “Don’t worry about it.”

“YN,” Atsumu says, his tone shifting as he leans forward. It’s the first time he’s used her name all day. “We don’t know each other that well, but even I can tell that’s a horseshit lie.” He nods at her phone. “You don’t gotta tell me what it’s about, but if you do want to talk… I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Despite what some folks might say.”

Her lips twitch into a genuine, albeit brief, smile. “Thanks, Atsumu. It’s really nothing crazy. I just… lost track of time and missed a call with my fiancé.” Her throat tightens at the word. “He’s been so busy lately, and I guess I forgot to mention what I was doing today. I just hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

Atsumu winces. “Ah, crap. I didn’t mean to mess up your day.” He hesitates, then adds with a crooked grin, “If it helps, I can tell him it was all my fault. You were just babysitting a hopeless idiot who didn’t want to get murdered by a supermodel.”

She snorts despite herself, shaking her head. “It’s fine, really.” Her expression softens as she looks at him. “I enjoyed myself today. Probably more than I should’ve.”

The last part slips out before she can stop it, and her cheeks flush. When was the last time she’d felt this carefree? This seen? Certainly not in a way that wasn’t tied to her girlfriends or her brother.

Atsumu waves her off with his usual grin. “Don’t sweat it. I had fun too, YN. We should do this again sometime—y’know, if you don’t get in too much trouble for hangin’ out with a miscreant like me.”

She rolls her eyes, a laugh bubbling out. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” She rests her chin in her palm, catching herself looking at him through her lashes. Her stomach flips, unbidden. What on earth was wrong with her today?

Before she can dwell on it, the waitress returns with the check. YN reaches for it, but Atsumu beats her to it, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh, missy. I’ve caused enough trouble today. Least I can do is cover this.”

“Atsumu—”

“Not a word.” He hands his card to the waitress before YN can argue, flashing her a mischievous smile. “Now let’s getcha home safe. That brother of yours scares the crap outta me. Last thing I need is to end up on his bad side.”

As they collect their belongings and step into the crisp night air, YN can’t shake the sinking feeling in her chest. The warmth of the evening lingers, but so does the weight of something unspoken.

Atsumu walks into the house with a pep in his step, a dopey smile plastered across his face. He shucks his coat off and tosses it onto the nearest sofa without a second thought.

“Oi! Tsumu!” Osamu’s voice cuts through the silence almost immediately. “Quit leavin’ your shit everywhere! Pick it up!”

“Geez, calm down, Samu,” Atsumu groans, turning to face his brother, who’s leaning against the archway to the hall, arms crossed. “I just walked in the door! My coat’s been there for, what, thirty seconds?”

Osamu doesn’t budge, his sharp gaze scanning Atsumu’s face. He sighs heavily. “Tsumu.”

“What?” Atsumu snaps, his smile faltering for a split second.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game,” Osamu says, his voice low and steady. “Knock this lovestruck fool shit off before someone gets hurt.”

Atsumu stiffens. “I ain’t doin’ shit,” he fires back, but his words lack the heat he intends. He flops onto the oversized loveseat with a huff. “Seriously, I just met the girl. I ain’t fallin’ in love, you negative nancies.”

Osamu raises an eyebrow just as Suna pokes his head around the corner, his expression blank. He takes one look at Atsumu, then rolls his eyes and saunters into the room, plopping down next to Osamu on the adjacent couch.

“Sure, Tsumu,” Osamu drawls, “you just happened to spend the whole day with your dream girl and somehow came out unscathed. Right.”

Atsumu scoffs. “Dream girl? I don’t even know her like that!”

Osamu snorts, shaking his head. “Tsumu, you’ve been a fan of hers forever. You had a massive internet crush for years. Spendin’ one-on-one time with her? ‘Course you’d catch real feelings.”

Suna, still lounging against Osamu, finally chimes in, his voice dry. “She’s sweet, yeah. But don’t forget, YN has a lot of guy friends. Anything you think is a sign? Probably isn’t. And she’s head over heels for that fiancé of hers.”

“Haru Saito,” Osamu adds grimly. “Not someone you want to mess with. That guy could ruin our lives before we even knew what hit us.”

“Please,” Suna mutters, rolling his eyes again. “That guy’s a pushover.” He lets his head fall back, eyes slipping closed as he leans into Osamu’s shoulder.

Atsumu groans, throwing an arm across his eyes. “Alright, fine. If it starts getting messy, I’ll let you guys know. Happy now?”

Osamu looks like he’s about to say something more, but Suna jabs him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Sure, whatever,” Osamu says begrudgingly. “Now can we play some Smash Bros.?”

The tension in the room dissolves as quickly as it appeared. Atsumu lowers his arm and grins. “Yeah, but don’t cry when I wipe the floor with ya.”

“You wish,” Osamu retorts, already reaching for the controllers.

The house is eerily quiet as YN steps inside, the absence of her roommates both a relief and a reminder of the turmoil swirling inside her. She hurries up the stairs, avoiding any chance encounters, and retreats to her room. Peeling off her street clothes, she slips into a fluffy robe and busies herself drawing a bubble bath.

The warm, foamy water embraces her as she sinks in, letting the tension in her shoulders melt away. With a sigh, she grabs her phone, tapping to FaceTime Haru. She prays he’s still awake.

On the third ring, he picks up, looking tired but not groggy. “Hey, Sunshine,” he greets, though his tone is edged with something sharp. “I was starting to think you were gonna stand me up.”

Her stomach twists. “I’m so sorry, Haru,” she says, sinking deeper into the bubbles. “I completely lost track of time. That’s on me.”

“It’s fine,” he replies, though his voice is tight. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your little date with your new friend.”

Her eyes snap open, narrowing instantly. “Excuse me?”

Haru’s nose twitches—one of his tells when he’s angry. “What else would you call it? You’re all over the internet, photographed with some random guy, buying piles of expensive clothes and dining alone in some secluded restaurant for hours.”

She bolts upright, water sloshing against the tub’s edges. “What the fuck? Are you having me followed?”

“Of course not,” he snaps. “But you’re famous. Did you forget paparazzi exist? Your little adventure is plastered everywhere. I had to hear about it from your brother!”

Her jaw tightens, and she fights to keep her voice steady. “Hajime told you exactly what happened. Atsumu took me to replace the dress he ruined. That’s it. I planned on paying for the rest, but he bought it before I could. It’s not like I’m running around playing sugar baby, Haru.”

“It sure looked friendly,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

She glares at him through the screen, her chest heaving. “You’ve never had a problem with my male friends before. Why are you acting like this now?”

“Because none of your other male friends look at you like they want to fuck you.”

Silence crashes between them like a wave. YN stares at him, stunned, her ears ringing. Haru has never been like this—not even with Issei, who’d been notorious for his over-the-top declarations of love for her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she finally asks, her voice trembling.

“And you’d know, wouldn’t you?” he bites back. “Since you clearly pay so much attention to me these days.”

Her chest tightens, tears stinging her eyes. “You know what? Fuck you, Haru,” she spits, her voice breaking. “You supported me moving here, and now you’re blaming me for the distance in our relationship? That’s on you, not me.” Her voice rises with every word. “Atsumu wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to fuck me. He was looking at me like he could see me—something you haven’t done in months. Get over yourself. I’m done.”

She ends the call with a trembling hand and hurls her phone across the room.

A guttural scream rips from her throat as she sinks back against the tub, tears streaming down her face. Her fingers tangle in her damp hair, pulling as if the pain could ground her. “Fuck!”

A knock at the door startles her. “Doll… you okay?” Issei’s voice filters through, soft but concerned.

She wipes at her face, her voice shaky. “Yeah.”

“I can hear you lying from here.”

With a sigh, she reaches for her robe, wrapping herself in its comfort as she pulls the plug from the drain. Once dressed in her favorite plush pajama set, she unlocks the door.

Issei is leaning against the frame, his gaze scanning her red, blotchy face. “We fought,” she murmurs.

He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, and settles on the bed beside her. “Atsumu?”

She shakes her head. “Haru. He accused me of cheating and then blamed me for our problems—like I haven’t been begging him for months to just pay attention to me.”

Issei hums, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she curls into herself. “He’s lashing out. Projecting.”

Her body stiffens. “You don’t think…”

Issei curses under his breath, realizing his mistake. “No, Doll. I don’t think he’d do that. The guy may suck sometimes, but he loves you. That much is clear.”

Her voice is small. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

That night, YN falls asleep clutching an old T-shirt, her heart heavy and her mind reeling.

masterlist | prev | next

A/N: Hey everyone wow. It's been several years since I have uploaded! I have had a lot happen in the last few years between having my first child, moving, acquiring new animals, and various chronic health issues. Needless to say, writing sort of took a back burner and I have had a severe block until recently!

I have quite a bit planned for this so hopefully I am able to continue writing and uploading somewhat regularly. I'm attaching my previous taglist here but if you wish not to be tagged anymore just let me know!!

Hopefully, y'all enjoy this.

I also wanted to point out that Hajime's private gym is connected to their home, hence why he was there during that interaction. He uses it for more personal clients and whatnot! Aran was off doing some solo exercises during the entire interaction (thankfully for Tsumu or he'd of gotten made fun of too!)

Let me know if you guys have any thoughts or questions!

Hope to see y'all in the next one!!

[p.s masterlist & previous links are not working… find the masterlist on my pinned]

TAGLIST LINK: HERE

TAGLIST

@ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @rintarovibes @katsupeach @black-rose-29@tanakasimpcorner @afire24 @zombieonna @catharticvillains @k-itk-at@antonio-melancholy00 @indecisivehusky @yamayoomi @kiyoomisbean@jellxnew @matsunshine @franko-pop @erensnubs @riceballsandanime@haijkk @keshastourbus @hxked @chupacudailhinha @bxstboy-tetsu@4kaashl @roselleviennesstuff @kotarousbabyowl @miyadarling@meiankolia @hp-hogwartsexpress @dambxtch @tanakaslastbraincell@bnha-meme-sanctuary @mirakeul @wtf-vickyy @haikyuu-and-fics@peepeepoopoot @sakusasimpbot @lilith412426 @fuckinuchihas@ntimacy @quietsimp @chantalkate16 @erinoikawa​

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 51

Chapter 50 || Index || Chapter 52

It wasn’t until the first rays of morning light were streaking across the night sky that a dog came to disturb them. Fireheart was sitting stiffly outside their makeshift den when he spotted a little white dog and older Twoleg walking down the side of the Thunderpath towards them. With a paw, he prodded at the two siblings. “Wake up! A dog’s coming!” He hissed at both of them.

The two were awake immediately. “We should make ourselves scarce, then.” Peppermask murmured as she squeezed out of the hollow. “Which way?”

“Let’s follow this Thunderpath towards the Monstercamp. It’ll probably meet with the other Thunderpath, and we can follow that until we find Windclan or Diesel’s friend.” The ginger tom flicked his tail for the other two to follow him, and together they moved swiftly away from the small grove they had slept in and the dog, keeping low to the ground as they did so.

The Thunderpath they were following soon merged with another, larger Thunderpath. “Now what?” Graystripe asked out loud. “Do you think Windclan would have managed to cross this?”

Fireheart studied it. The Monsters weren’t traveling as fast as the ones on the Thunderpath that bordered their territory, but they were still quite numerous. “Maybe at night.” He finally decided. “Where they could see them coming from far away.”

“Maybe.” Peppermask sounded doubtful beside him. “I don’t think we have much of a chance of crossing here. We should keep going to the other Thunderpath.”

They took off at a swift pace, but it wasn’t long before Fireheart spied something unusual ahead. “Is that a badger sett?” He meowed to the others as he slowed to a halt. Just next to the Thunderpath was a large, round hole that looked to go deep into the earth.

“What badger would choose to live under a Thunderpath?” Graystripe asked incredulously. “They’re not as clever as a fox, but I find it hard to believe one would be mousebrained enough to live where they’d be constantly threatened by Monsters!”

The three cautiously approached. It was smooth, and lined with a light gray stone similar to Peppermask’s pelt. “It looks Twoleg-made.” The ruddy warrior murmured to his companions, gingerly testing it with one paw. It sloped down into some kind of tunnel that quickly disappeared into darkness; beyond that, he couldn’t see. “It doesn’t smell like anything’s down there. I think we should check out where it goes.”

“Why?” Graystripe asked in confusion. “Where could it possibly lead that we would want to go?”

“The other side of the Thunderpath, for one.” He pointed out readily as he took a few steps down. “I can feel air moving down there. It could be a safe place to cross.”

“But why would the Twolegs put this here?” Peppermask wondered, even as she followed him down into the darkness. “It hardly looks like it would fit them, unless they were a kit.”

“I’m sure it has a purpose to them.” Fireheart replied, puffing out his fur against the cold air flowing through the tunnel. Even as they walked into darkness, he could see a circle of light in the distance: the other side, he was sure of it.

As they walked, they could feel the rumbling of the Monsters rushing past above them. “You don’t think this will collapse, do you?” Graystripe mumbled from his spot in the rear of the patrol.

“It hasn’t yet.” His sister pointed out, though that was little comfort to the three of them. It felt like the tunnel could break at any moment with all the roaring going on over their heads, but as they hurried through there was no cracking or breaking of the stone around them.

Fireheart was the first to emerge from the tunnel, squinting against the morning sun that had now fully risen above the horizon. As soon as his eyes adjusted, however, he gasped. “What in Starclan is that?”

Ahead of him was a Thunderpath that ran up into the sky. Giant stone legs emerged from the earth to support it, helping it arc up and then snake its way back down. As he looked past it, he could see several other Thunderpaths doing precisely the same thing.

Both the gray siblings behind him gasped similar exclamations when they arrived. “Do you think they can all do that?” Peppermask whispered in horror to him.

“I hope not.” Fireheart murmured back to her. “I think the Twolegs must have done it somehow, because of all the giant Thunderpaths around here.” Truthfully, he didn’t know for sure; he could only speculate, just as she could.

“I guess that makes sense.” She murmured as they all looked around. They were in an unkept meadow of grass sparsely populated with thistle and sorrel. He wrinkled his nose as the breeze blew past, carrying with it the horrible, acrid tang of the Thunderpaths around them.

Then Peppermask’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait! Do you smell that?”

Fireheart hesitated, then sniffed at the air. All he could smell was the breath of Monsters. “No?” He looked to Graystripe, who shrugged and shook his head.

“I swear, I-” She sniffed around, the other two following her in bewilderment. She led them a few paces before stopping triumphantly at a clump of heather. “Here! This has been marked!”

Fireheart leaned forward to smell it. To his surprise, she was right; the flowers smelled heavily of a border marker. “This can’t be-”

“It has to be.” They gazed out at the tangle of Thunderpaths in the air above them, and the wild grasses in front of them. “Windclan settled somewhere near here.”

“But why?” Graystripe was the one to ask what was on all their minds. “How could they possibly survive here? For a season, no less?”

There was silence for several long moments. “Maybe they thought even Brokentail wouldn’t follow them here.” Peppermask said out loud at last. “A-as for surviving…”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Fireheart pointed out. “What should we do? Wait until they come by?”

The tabby molly shook her head. “No, that could take all day. We can’t waste that kind of time. We’ll have to try and find their camp. Even if we can’t, I’m sure they’ll find us trespassing sooner or later.”

The other two nodded, and together the Thunderclan warriors carefully stepped over the border and headed for the center of the tangle of Thunderpaths. The area was much bigger than it looked; though the section they were in was fairly small, the entire area was easily as large as Barley’s farm had looked when they had passed by as apprentices.

The patrol eventually passed beneath the giant stone legs of one Thunderpath, wincing at the angry roaring of the Monsters above. Even though he knew the Monsters likely wouldn’t be using it if it was likely to collapse beneath them, he still didn’t feel safe until they were safely out from underneath it.

The landscape here was certainly strange, after traveling through the Windclan moors. More wildflowers grew here, like daisies, poppies and goldenrod.  But in many places, the grass grew so sparse as to make barren patches of dirt. There were no trees, and no boulders from which to observe, but the grass didn’t grow tall enough and thick enough for that to matter.

“Shh!” Peppermask crouched down in front of them, flicking her tail for the other two to do the same. Confused, Fireheart and Graystripe copied her, doing their best to hide in the sparse grass. They waited for a few moments, unsure why they had stopped, when a rabbit darted by merely a couple tail-lengths in front of them. It was only a moment later when a cat dashed by after it, not even noticing the cats they raced by in their focus on their prey.

They watched with bated breath as the cat leaped, landing squarely on the rabbit’s back and dragging it down with fangs and claws. There was a brief tussle in the dirt, throwing up a cloud of dust that obscured the predator and prey.

The three watched in hushed silence as the dust settled down. At last, the cat emerged, a small and skinny white molly that was breathing heavily from the chase. She held her prize proudly in her mouth, turning back towards the way she had come from.

Fireheart stood up. This was their chance! “Hey, you’re-”

He didn’t get the chance to speak as the molly startled into a breakneck sprint. “Wait!” The three took off after her. They had gotten this close; there was no way they’d come this far just to lose the trail now!

The white molly was weighed down by the rabbit, and the Thunderclanners were slowly gaining on her. Just as they were closing in to within a tail-length of her, Peppermask tapped them both on the shoulder to slow down. Confused, Fireheart obeyed, turning to look at her with a quizzical look as the molly they were chasing vanished into the tall grass.

“Let her think she got away.” Peppermask hissed to both of them as they fell into a steady trot. “She’s too scared to get anything out of her. We’ll have more success tracking her.” He had to admit this made sense to him. If she thought they were attacking her, they could certainly get badly hurt and start off on a bad foot with Windclan - if she was from Windclan.

They followed the trail to the base of one of the stone legs of the airborne Thunderpaths. “Where did she go?” Graystripe wondered out loud as he looked around. “Do you think she circled around the base?”

“There’s no trail that way, though.” Fireheart pointed out, looking to the expert tracker beside him. “What do you think, Peppermask?”

The tabby molly sniffed around for a few moments. “The heather here is old. It smells stale.” She pointed out several clusters of heather growing from the base of the stone leg with her paw. She was right; they were turning brown and had long ago dried up. “I think she might have covered her tracks with them, like the molly did with the Windclan bodies.”

Fireheart gently scraped aside the heather to find she was right: instead of dirt at the bases of the clumps, there was a stone tunnel similar to the one that they had taken under the Thunderpath. “Should we…?”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice.” Peppermask flicked her tail for him to go in. He obeyed, with the gray tabby molly following him and Graystripe bringing up the rear. The tunnel sloped down a few tail-lengths before leveling out. They tread cautiously, knowing that the Windclanners could send out a patrol at any moment.

The tunnel went on in darkness for a while, but unlike the other tunnel did not lead towards a second opening. Instead, it started growing slick and wet. Fireheart’s fur prickled uncomfortably as they trudged forward. He kept silent, however, keenly aware that the Windclanners could be nearby.

Then his whiskers felt a shift in the airflow, indicating that the tunnel took a turn. Fireheart tapped Peppermask’s nose in the dark to let her know to stop, then very hesitantly approached the corner.

He was surprised to see that the corner had hid light shining further down the tunnel. He could clearly see the tunnel open up into a large area with a narrow channel connecting the tunnel to an opening on the other side. In the ceiling above was a square window that allowed the morning sun to shine down into the unnatural cavern.

On either side of the channel huddled dozens of cats, most of warrior age, thin and shivering in the cold wind that blew down here. On the one side he could see the white molly they had been chasing, arguing with a lanky black and white cat. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but all eyes in the room were focused on the two.

He flicked Peppermask’s chin with his tail to continue forward, and cautiously rounded the bend. He allowed his paws to drag in the water, making splashing noises and alerting the nearest cats to his approach.

A gray tom that was close to the entrance turned at the noise and spotted him. Immediately, he yowled a warning and jumped up into a fighting position. Just as swiftly, nearly a dozen cats moved into a line at the entrance of the tunnel, their backs bristling and tails lashing as they stared him down. Peppermask and Graystripe came around the corner, wide-eyed as they saw the line of glistening fangs and claws.

They were about to be attacked.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Rabbit Rhymes (short story)

“‘What do hawks sit on?’ Frog asked. ‘hawks sit on hot rocks!’”

“Ouch!” Honeykit piped in, giggling.

“Yes, ouch!” Fungichomp agreed with a purr, his gaze warm on the kit between his paws. “What animal do you think is next?”

Honeykit thought for a moment, her chin shifting to the side and her eyes looking to its corners. “Rabbit ‘cos they have big legs!”

“Rabbits have big legs?”

“Yeah!”

“Do they sit on something big?”

Honeykit nodded. “Uh-huh. They have big legs and they sit on big things because they have big legs.”

Fungichomp smiled as he searched in his mind for something that rhymes with ‘rabbit.’ “‘Hawks sit on hot rocks–yeouch!--and rabbits sit on....maggots!’” 

“Not maggots!” Honeykit giggled. 

“‘That doesn’t sound very comfortable,’ said the frog,” Fungichomp went on, “‘it’s not about being comfortable,’ said the mouse, ‘it’s about doing the right thing.’”

Honeykit shifted. Fungichomp waited until she was settled before continuing. “‘What do foxes sit on?’” He lowered his head. “What do you think foxes sit on?”

“It has to rhyme!” Honeykit pointed out enthusiastically. 

“Yes, it has to rhyme,” Fungichomp agreed. “Can you think of what rhymes with ‘fox?’”

Honeykit tilted her head so high in thought, she was practically looking at the leaves in the trees above them. “Uhuhuh! Hawk!”

“You’re right, hawk and fox do rhyme.” Sort of. “Do you think foxes sit on hawks?”

“Hawks won’t like it!”

Fungichomp gasped. “You’re right again! You’re so smart. Do you want to pick something else for foxes to sit on?”

Honeykit nodded vigorously. Then she giggled triumphantly. “Phlox!”

“That’s a big word!” Fungichomp responded, genuinely surprised. 

“Fadingstar saided it and I like it,” Honeykit explained.

“I like it too! Phlox! Phlox! Phlox!”

Honeykit laughed more fully, eyes narrowed in her joy. Fungichomp felt just as warm. Of all the tasks he had in the Daycare, taking care of kits one-on-one were by far his favourite of them all. They continued on until the story finished, Honeykit bursting out in laughter–again–at the ending. 

Fungichomp waited until she was fully asleep, head flopped on his foreleg, then slowly stood up. Gently, he took her by the scruff and into the napping den, where she was placed onto her nest with only a wriggling toe of protest. Her fathers should be picking her up soon. Rookstorm had gotten into a tussle with Applefoot, and both toms had gotten sick from infected wounds–because of those, sickness follows cats here, too–and Aspenroot had to train his apprentice, so Kiteburn took their litter here until they could set things back in order.

Not for the first time, in fact, it happened every time he blinked at a kit, he was glad that he decided to make the Daycare–though he would forever be furious that he needed to. But before that anger could settle any deeper than a passing thought, Mellowkit rushed toward him. “I found a ant!” he announced loudly. 

“Why don’t you show me?” Fungichomp suggested, and followed the little tom across the small clearing.

=============================

--A NICE story? Written by me? And not of the same characters I write about all the time? What is happening????

Lol yeah I got inspired because I’m working at a Daycare. I’m still just starting, so I don’t know how right the speech is (mainly for Fungi’s responses), but I think it’s pretty okay.

--Surely not all stories parents tell their kits are warnings. Some can just be goofy fun! This is a very slightly edited version of Frog On A Log.

--Fungi belongs to @wills-woodland-warriors

Honeykit/flower was named and designed by @starfalcon555 who also owns Rookstorm

Mellowkit/tooth belongs to @ambitiousauthor at this point in time, he only has a single mama, so she probably uses the Daycare often for support.

This would also make Mellowkit and Honeykit least five moons of the same age.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 96

Frostpaw gets the name Frostdancer, much to Gingerpaw’s envy.

[Image ID: Frostdancer is now in a long-furred adult sprite. Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! FROSTPAW → FROSTDANCER, STRICT → CONFIDENT, LOVER OF STORIES → GREAT STORYTELLER. Gingerpaw, in the same adult sprite, watches from the back with Estherfern.]

(Frostdancer: 12, female, artisan, confident, great storyteller)

(Gingerpaw: 12, male, cleric apprentice, charismatic, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Estherfern: 130, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

Asterblaze and Elmsprout reminisce about their old Clans when a WheatClan apprentice stumbles into the territory. They help him find his way home.

[Image ID: Elmsprout and Asterblaze speak with a black spotted apprentice. Asterblaze says, "We'll get you home, Fluffpaw." Under him, it reads LEVEL UP! CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR.]

(Asterblaze: 43, male, caretaker, thoughtful, inventor and innovator)

(Elmsprout: 63, female, caretaker, charismatic, trusted advisor)

Icepaw gets apprenticed to Shrewflame and Pearpaw trains under Whiteflower. Puddlewhisper goes to inform Nimblestep of her kits’ apprenticeship and decision.

[Image ID: Puddlewhisper watches from afar as Shrewflame and Whiteflower guide Icepaw and Pearpaw, now in the same apprentice sprites, out of camp. Under Puddlewhisper, it says LEVEL UP! THOUGHTFUL → RIGHTEOUS, + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL. Under Icepaw, it says LEVEL UP! ICEKIT → ICEPAW, UNRULY → FIERCE, + NEW SKILL: NEVER SITS STILL. Under Pearpaw, it says LEVEL UP! PEARKIT → PEARPAW, QUIET → RIGHTEOUS, + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]

---

Lettucestar and Oilstar both agreed at the Gathering that they would each apprentice Nimblestep's kits three days following the Gathering. At that time, a RippleClan patrol would meet SlugClan at the border, either with or without Icekit and Pearkit. Their absence would mark their decision. The kits had each emphatically told Puddlewhisper that they would stay in RippleClan, but as their apprenticeship drew closer and closer, Puddlewhisper couldn't help but wonder; would they change their minds?

As dawn approached, heralding the litter's apprenticeship, Puddlewhisper was the first in the nursery to wake up. All the kits were big enough that they needed their own nests, so Puddlewhisper found her side absent of warm faces. Icekit and Pearkit still had their nests close to Puddlewhisper, however. Icekit laid on his back, twitching in the depths of a dream while Pearkit laid in a peaceful lump, quietly dozing. Midnightkit and Valleykit had crawled into one another's nests over the course of the night, leaving Rattlepelt buried under her fox pelt alone. Stormjump, plump with her pregnancy, was dead to the world while Dovekit blocked Puddlewhisper's path out of the den. He had somehow gotten out of his nest and decided to sleep stretched out across the entrance like leather flooring. Puddlewhisper rolled her eyes. The sooner that odd lump of fur was in the apprentice's den, the better.

Puddlewhisper crept around Icekit and Pearkit. She nimbly stepped over Dovekit and into camp. It was still dark out, meaning that dawn patrols had yet to set out and no one had begun their day. The camp was quiet, save for the hum of the late night birds and the shifting presence of one of the caretakers outside. The waning gibbous moon hovered behind the shipwreck, turning the landmark into a dark shadow painted against Silverpelt.

To Puddlewhisper's surprise, she was not the first in camp to stir early. Paleseed hovered outside the apprentice's den, fiddling with moss. Paleseed spotted Puddlewhisper and paused with moss sticking between her claws.

"I'm just deconstructing Frostdancer's old nest," Paleseed whispered as Puddlewhisper approached. "We keep forgetting it's in here. Icekit and Pearkit can use some of this moss." Puddlewhisper nodded and sat next to her sister. A tickle crawled up her back despite the warm summer night. She stared into the empty apprentice's den and thought back to the days when all of her littermates crowded inside, eagerly sharing tales of their training deep into the night. Ripplefern's memory was a haze in the back of the den. Would she be there as Icekit and Pearkit decided on their futures?

"Puddle?" Paleseed purred, drawing her sister's eye. "Icekit and Pearkit already said they want to stay here. Why do you look so tense? Did they change their minds?"

"I don't think so," Puddlewhisper gulped. "Still… if I knew I had kin in another Clan, I would want to meet them."

"Whatever happens," Paleseed promised, grooming Puddlewhisper's neck, "you've been a good mother." Puddlewhisper licked Paleseed's ear. She bunted Paleseed's shoulder and, for a moment, pretended Nimblestep didn't exist, that she had been born a molly, that Icekit and Pearkit were forever, always, and unconditionally hers.

The pair sat in the well-trodden sand, each grooming the other as light leaked over the horizon. The Clan slowly stirred around them. Whiteflower and Shrewflame ran for the artisan's den as soon as they stirred. They nearly knocked over Downstar's almost-finished sculpture, ready to be painted and stored beside Weedfoot's image in a rocky off-shoot of the elder's den. Yarrowclaw limped out of the medicine den, her deep wound slowly forming into a neat scar. Halibutdusk, Rapidleaf, and Mitespark gathered around the fresh-kill pile, debating how they would handle the sunhigh meal.

When Dovekit charged out of the nursery and hassled Yarrowclaw, Puddlewhisper knew it was time to greet her kits. Paleseed sensed her sister shift beside her and stopped grooming her back.

"Make them look pretty for today," Paleseed hummed as Puddlewhisper headed for the nursery. Puddlewhisper stood a little taller as the den's interior came into view. Sure enough, everyone inside was awake. Midnightkit and Valleykit jogged past Puddlewhisper, leaving Rattlepelt alone to stretch and adjust her fox pelt. Stormjump stayed in her nest, weighed down with no reason to get up and go. Icekit and Pearkit whispered to each other, heads dipped low. Pearkit, however, perked up as Puddlewhisper came in.

"Mom," Pearkit said, jumping around Icekit and stopping at her mother's paws. "Do you know when Oilstar will call for the Clan?"

"I'm sure she won't wait too long," Puddlewhisper promised as Icekit joined his sister. "How do you both feel?"

"My head hurts a bit," Icekit admitted, tail twitching awkwardly, "but I'm ready to have the ceremony."

"And you both still…" Puddlewhisper gulped.

"We're staying, Mom," Pearkit promised. She bunted Puddlewhisper in the chest. "We can get to know our kin at the Gathering." Puddlewhisper purred deeply, all the trapped anxiety in her chest flooding out as she pulled Pearkit close and rapidly groomed her head. Icekit tried to step around the two mollies, but Puddlewhisper stuck out her hind leg and blocked him.

"You need to look nice for the ceremony, too," Puddlewhisper chuckled. Icekit groaned dramatically, but stayed where he was.

It wasn't long before Oilstar yowled from the top of the Shiprock, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather below the Shiprock for a Clan meeting!" By then dawn had firmly settled itself across RippleClan, the sun forming a gibbous shape against the edge of the ocean. Icekit and Pearkit's fur was groomed to perfection, with not a single curvy hair out of place. Weedfoot had the same standard of perfection for Puddlewhisper's apprentice ceremony, so why should she stray from tradition?

Icekit and Pearkit flanked their mother as they all entered the camp clearing. With the pair at either side, Puddlewhisper preened a little; her kits would never outgrow her. Pearkit was shaping up to be a rather small molly, more round than tall, while Icekit had a fairly average build. Both already looked like little warriors, though. Oilstar stood on the Shiprock, her autumn decor glowing against the sunrise. How strange it was to see her standing in Downstar's spot, overlooking all of RippleClan. And by all, Puddlewhisper meant all of RippleClan; not a single cat had left for patrol yet.

"Stand at the front of the crowd," Puddlewhisper told her kits. She slipped away from Icekit and Pearkit and found an empty spot beside Paleseed, Lavendertwist, and Waspdawn. Icekit and Pearkit stood in front of the Shiprock. RippleClan curved around them like water around a rock. Wildclaw sat at the base of the Shiprock, as was her place as the Clan's new deputy. Another strange sight.

"Apprentice ceremonies are an exciting day in RippleClan," Oilstar began, speaking loud and strong. "This ceremony is especially interesting, because today we don't just ask the young cats before us if they are ready to train. We ask them if they wish to devote themselves to RippleClan." Oilstar stared at Icekit and Pearkit as she spoke her next words. "Icekit, Pearkit, you both joined RippleClan under tense circumstances. We didn't expect your birth mother to return, especially not as a SlugClan warrior. I can't continue this ceremony without apologizing to you both. RippleClan killed your father, Achilles, and drove your mother to flee and leave you behind. We have tried to earn your forgiveness, but we cannot keep you here if your heart calls for you to join your mother and sister in SlugClan."

"We want to stay here, Oilstar," Icekit yowled, nearly interuppting Oilstar. "I don't care how I ended up here. This is my home." A few cats cheered at Icekit's proud declaration, Lavendertwist among them. Waspdawn touched his nose to Puddlewhisper's pelt, pressing congratulations through her skin.

"Pearkit, you share this perspective?" Oilstar asked.

"Yes," Pearkit said. Her voice collapsed under her with another, louder cheer from RippleClan.

"Save the cheers for later!" Oilstar laughed as Icekit and Pearkit squirmed under the attention. "We have a ceremony to conduct! Usually I learn what path a kit's paws call them down before we gather, but there were other matters to settle. Icekit, Pearkit, what do you want to train as?"

"I want to be a teacher!" Icekit declared just as Pearkit tried to talk. "It's such a new role. I want the other Clans to have teachers too!"

"I want to know how the world works," Pearkit quickly added. "Can I train as a historian?"

"I have the perfect mentors for both of you," Oilstar purred. "Icekit, Pearkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. Icekit, Pearkit, until you earn your full names, you shall be known as Icepaw and Pearpaw." Icepaw and Pearpaw seemed to glow with the power of their new names. "Icepaw, you will be apprenticed under Shrewflame."

"I get an apprentice!" Shrewflame shoved through the crowd, his whole body vibrating and his paws suspiciously stained with orange paint. Wildclaw hid a chuckle as Shrewflame touched his nose to Icepaw's.

"Pearpaw, you will be apprenticed under Whiteflower," Oilstar declared. Whiteflower left the crowd with far more grace than his older brother. He too had orange paint on his white paws.

"I'll do my best," Whiteflower purred as he touched noses with Pearpaw.

"Icepaw! Pearpaw! Icepaw! Pearpaw!" RippleClan cried. Puddlewhisper cheered from the bottom of her lungs.

"Let's tour the territory before the artisans realized we touched their paint supplies," Shrewflame whispered, nudging Icepaw along.

"We'll see you soon, Mom!" Pearpaw cheered as she and Whiteflower hurried after their brothers. They streaked ahead of the pair and managed to get out of camp first. Puddlewhisper waved goodbye as the Clan dissolved into relieved chuckles and grateful purrs. They were gaining two apprentices rather than losing two kits that day.

"Puddlewhisper!" As the Clan set about their duties for the day, Oilstar hopped off the Shiprock and joined Puddlewhisper and her littermates. "I need you to take Venturedapple and Wolfgaze to the border. SlugClan's expecting a patrol."

"Oilstar, Puddlewhisper shouldn't go," Waspdawn huffed, flicking his ear to catch the leader's attention. "She's Icepaw and Pearpaw's mother. SlugClan will be furious with her. Let me lead the patrol."

"Lettucestar wants this handled as much as we do," Oilstar sighed, shaking her head. "I want Puddlewhisper to face SlugClan so we all can have good relations again. They shouldn't see Puddlewhisper as a kit thief, and we shouldn't hide her like one."

"Not to doubt Puddlewhisper," Lavendertwist added, scratching an itch under his collar, "but maybe the three of us can at least come with? I don't really trust SlugClan to handle this well."

"They might behave better with a mediator around, too," Paleseed pointed out.

"If you're all so nervous about it," Oilstar said, "you can go with. Just don't make this seem like a war patrol, please? We've had enough injuries from the other Clans lately."

With a few quick stretches and a call to Venturedapple and Wolfgaze, Puddlewhisper's patrol was off for the border. As they left camp, Puddlewhisper spotted her kits and their mentors lingering along the southern coast. They splashed in the shallow salt water, laughing like kits. Puddlewhisper's heart warmed. Perhaps young mentors would make Icepaw and Pearpaw's lives feel a bit more normal. They deserved normalcy.

"They fell in a heap to claw the mud," Lavendertwist sang as the patrol pressed through the bright green forest, "that dyed their muzzles and pelts in rud, tunnelled until the ground bore blood, with all the blowflies swarming."

"Are you really singing 'Quiet Jaypaw' on a day like this?" Waspdawn sighed, unable to hide a hint of mild amusement despite how he shook his head.

"'Quiet Jaypaw'?" Venturedapple muttered from the back of the patrol.

"A creepy song about a roguehearted apprentice," Puddlewhisper hummed.

"Silverpaw used to love that song!" Wolfgaze laughed, jogging up to Lavendertwist's side.

"Ripplefern and I learned it from a SlugClan apprentice when we were young," Lavendertwist chuckled. "It feels like… the right song for the moment. You remember the main part, Wolfgaze?"

"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Wolfgaze sang, lacking the same skilled voice as Lavendertwist but sharing in the heart of the song. "Quiet Jaypaw can't be saved."

"Where, o where is quiet Jaypaw?" Lavendertwist joined Wolfgaze in the song. "Quiet Jaypaw, quiet grave." Lavendertwist and Wolfgaze laughed as they finished, earning an eyeroll from Venturedapple and a hidden purr from Waspdawn. Puddlewhisper hummed the melody under her breath, yet her gut twinged. Would she want the bearers of bad news approaching a meeting like this in song? Yet as Lavendertwist started the next verse, he glanced at Puddlewhisper, hesitating through the first line. Ah. So that was the reason.

"Poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones," Puddlewhisper hummed along with the two singers, "it bared its bones, it bared its bones, it bared its bones, poked at the grave 'til it bared its bones, the crows call out their warning."

"Finches and warblers, gray catbirds," Paleseed joined in, "With twisted beaks and eyes all blurred, feathers as red as a fox's fur—"

"Savage and painted and warring," Waspdawn muttered. Lavendertwist, Wolgaze, and Paleseed cheered at Waspdawn's voice. Puddlewhisper decided she would have to teach her kits that song. The chorus replaced Puddlewhisper's dread as the patrol (sans Venturedapple, who stared bug-eyed and confused) trekked through the brightening forest.

The patrol beat SlugClan to the border where RippleClan, WheatClan, and AshClan met, but only by a little. Puddlewhisper barely had time to find a sundappled rock to rest upon before shapes slipped through the trees. Lighttrail was at the front, with one of SlugClan's mediators at his side. But the molly everyone expected and dreaded to see plunged past them, blue eyes sparkling.

"Are they here?" Nimblestep gulped, skidding to a stop at the edge of RippleClan territory. She scanned the large patrol, but her ears dipped lower and lower as she saw no small bodies in the crowd.

"Icepaw and Pearpaw," Waspdawn sighed, clearing his throat, "have decided to stay in RippleClan." Nimblestep contnued to search the patrol, but her face fell further and further.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Lighttrail muttered.

"They are still looking forward to meeting you, Nimblestep," Paleseed quickly interjected, trying to catch Nimblestep's fluttering attention. "They can explain their perspectives at the Gathering."

"What do I tell Quickpaw?" Nimblestep gulped. Her wide eyes focused on Puddlewhisper, who sat calmly in the center of the RippleClan patrol. "What did you tell them about me?"

"They know you care," Puddlewhisper said, picking her words carefully. "You still hurt them, though." Puddlewhisper risked moving closer as Nimblestep's breathing tightened. "You left them for dead, and made them fear for their lives with that patrol. I'm sorry, but you'll have to live with that."

"None of this would have happened if RippleClan weren't a group of foxhearts!" Nimblestep hissed. "You caused this! You took my family from me!"

It was simple hopefulness that kept Puddlewhisper so close to Nimblestep as the brown molly's lips curled and her claws glinted in the dappled morning light. But it was the echo of her words that kept Puddlewhisper from running as Nimblestep pounced on her. Her fangs instantly sunk into Puddlewhisper's tail, as though trying to bite straight through.

"Nimblestep, stop!" Lighttrail barked as every cat, SlugClan and RippleClan, converged on the furious mother. As Puddlewhisper tried to save her tail, however, Nimblestep's furious shaking stopped. Her jaw froze around Puddlewhisper's tail, still digging into her skin, blood still blooming around her fangs, but no longer applying active pressure. She wasn't even breathing. As Puddlewhisper suspected, Wolfgaze stood behind her, green eyes burning with star-given power. Puddlewhisper's body went numb as she looked into Wolfgaze's eyes.

"So this is the Rule of Three in action," Lighttrail muttered, backing away from Nimblestep, eyes locked on Wolfgaze. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist pried Nimblestep's frozen mouth off Puddlewhisper's tail. Puddlewhisper scrambled back, her blood burning. Paleseed swooped around her sister and groomed her pulsing wound. Waspdawn and Lavendertwist shoved Nimblestep back over the border. Wolfgaze broke her supernatural connection. Nimblestep's wide jaw snapped shut on empty air. She startled, tumbling back into the SlugClan mediator.

"Go home, now," Waspdawn growled. "The apprentices made their decision. That's the end of it." Waspdawn joined Puddlewhisper as Paleseed helped her to her paws. Puddlewhisper cradled her numb tail to her side.

"You are witches," Nimblestep hissed as Lighttrail pushed her back toward SlugClan. "Achilles was right. RippleClan is full of witches! This is all your fault!" Another strong shove from Lighttrail silenced the grieving mother. The small SlugClan patrol stumbled back to their territory, prizeless.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Lavendertwist muttered, glaring at the retreating cats.

"Let's get Puddlewhisper to the clerics," Venturedapple said, quietly taking the lead back home.

"Don't tell my kits yet," Puddlewhisper hissed through gritted teeth. "Let them enjoy their first day out of camp."

"StarClan knows what sort of wicked thoughts Nimblestep would have taught those kits," Wolfgaze grumbled as the patrol followed Venturedapple. Puddlewhisper focused her energy on the pain in her tail, but her thoughts still spun. Cruel or not, just or not, Nimblestep was right.

RippleClan destroyed her family.

(Puddlewhisper: 62, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Paleseed: 62, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Icepaw: 6, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Oilstar: 100, female, leader, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Shrewflame: 20, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Whiteflower: 13, male, historian, faithful, great kitsitter)

(Waspdawn: 62, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Lavendertwist: 62, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)

(Venturedapple: 84, male, codekeeper, cold, eloquent speaker)

(Wolfgaze: 31, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

Dovepaw gets to train as a warrior under Wolverineheart. Scaleripple takes all the new apprentices training and discovers he really likes teaching. He asks Thundergale and Shrewflame to help him be a teacher.

[Image ID: Scaleripple guides Pearpaw, Icepaw, and Dovepaw (now in a tall apprentice sprite) through a hunter's crouch. Under Dovepaw, it says LEVEL UP! DOVEKIT → DOVEPAW, IMPULSIVE → OBLIVIOUS. Scaleripple says, "Crouch like this…" Under him, it says LEVEL UP! FORMIDABLE FIGHTER → UNUSUALLY STRONG FIGHTER.]

(Pearpaw: 6, female, historian apprentice, righteous, moss-ball hunter, lover of stories)

(Icepaw: 6, male, teacher apprentice, fierce, oddly observant, never sits still)

(Dovepaw: 6, male, warrior apprentice, oblivious, active imagination)

(Scaleripple: 49, male, teacher, lonesome, unusually strong fighter)

[dragonoligy1]

I've never done one of these before, so I hope I did it correctly. Anyways, I got ahead of my self and created a whole ass au. @liekadae

Bdubs liked to believe he was a good protector of the forest. He granted boons to those that respected nature and chased away those who would use it for themselves. He helped all animals, from wild ponies to the smallest of tree frogs, and in return, they would continue living; the greatest gift of all. Which is why, when he spotted an albino fox with red ears, who's leg was caught in a hunter's trap, he immediately bent down to let it free.

It pulled back at the sight of him, pupils slit to almost invisibility, so Bdubs took it slow. He sat down in front of the creature and began to hum. He reached out to a small fern next to the fox and allowed his energy to boost the plants’ growth. He remembered that foxes preferred hiding or blending into their surroundings, so, in order to make the small canine more comfortable, foliage sprouted all around it. Not encasing, but simply embracing.

The fox, clearly still running high on nerves flattened its ears, but not too long afterwards, let them stand tall. It tried to sit up, but failed to, and resigned to laying down in the greenery. Bdubs moved his hand closer, allowing the beast to sniff it, and after a few seconds, it pushed its muzzle into his palm. He scratched its chin for a few seconds before moving onto the trap.

It was simple yet effective, and the wire that tangled itself around the hind foot was ever so slightly cutting into the fox’s fur. Bdubs grabbed the wire and gently undid it, simply breaking the combination lock when he got there. After the wire fell to the forest floor and the pressure had been lifted the fox immediately stood up and sprinted off, away from the thicket. Before it was out of view, however, it turned to Bdubs and watched. If Bdubs knew any better, he would've said it was studying him. But he didn't, so he simply waved, and the fox stalked off.

-

It had been a bit since Bdubs freed the fox, but soon after, he began receiving gifts. Small trinkets, whether that be a silver nugget, or a red and gold ribbon, yet all were in pristine condition. He doesn't know how whatever found his home, but as whenever he slept in a different location, the gifys followed him, so they must be his. Tonight though, he decided he would return the favor.

Bdubs placed a small, handmade lantern out in front of his den for the night. It was made of pure light, which he had harvested himself, but gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt the user (whoever it may be). The small orb was encased in gold, courtesy of the mystery nuggets, and gave off a magnificent hue when the last rays of the sun hit it.

So, that night, as Bdubs shut his eyes, he could not see the visitor. He was asleep, and could not hear the paws padding over to him. Could not smell the breeze in the air as a transformation occurred. Could not taste the sudden whiff of pine and sweet berries. Could not feel the gentle hand of someone placing a note card on his mossy cloak. No, Bdubs couldn't do anything when he was asleep.

However, when he awoke and saw the lantern gone and the note in his lap, he knew he had been visited by his mystery gifter. He moved to pick up the card, but before he could read a word, he noticed something.

A small, red, fox print.

Stamping the handwritten message.

Is it okay? If you have a proper au thing I can delete it okay thank you

DRAW THIS IN YOUR STYLE!

I would love to see all of your wonderful takes on Kitsune Etho!!

Tag me or reblog your dtiys here if you want me to see it!

[dfroza]

A calming of the wind and the waves

(and we do need faith and inner peace while in this world, just like the night sky…)

to “believe…”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 8th chapter of the book of Matthew:

Large crowds followed Jesus when He came down from the mountain. And as Jesus was going along, a leper approached Him and knelt down before Him.

Leper: Lord, if You wish to, please heal me and make me clean!

Jesus (stretching out His hand): Of course I wish to. Be clean.

Immediately the man was healed.

Jesus: Don’t tell anyone what just happened. Rather, go to the priest, show yourself to him, and give a wave offering as Moses commanded. Your actions will tell the story of what happened here today.

Eventually Jesus came to the little town of Capernaum. In Capernaum a military officer came to Him and asked Him for help.

Officer: Lord, I have a servant who is lying at home in agony, paralyzed.

Jesus: I will come to your house, and I will heal him.

Officer: Lord, I don’t deserve to have You in my house. And, in truth, I know You don’t need to be with my servant to heal him. Just say the word, and he will be healed. That, after all, is how authority works. My troops obey me whether I am next to them or not—similarly, this sickness will obey You.

Jesus was stunned by the depth of the officer’s faith.

Jesus (to His followers): This is the plain truth: I have not met a single person in Israel with as much faith as this officer. It will not be just the children of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob who celebrate at their heavenly banquet at the end of time. No, people will come from the East and the West—and those who recognize Me, regardless of their lineage, will sit with Me at that feast. But those who have feigned their faith will be cast out into outer darkness where people weep and grind their teeth.

Then Jesus turned to the Centurion.

Jesus: You may go home. For it is as you say it is; it is as you believe.

And the officer’s servant was healed, right then.

Jesus went to Peter’s house, and there He saw Peter’s mother-in-law lying in bed, sick and burning up with a fever. Jesus touched her hand, and then she was healed—the fever vanished. She got up from bed and began to wait on Him.

Toward nighttime many people who were possessed by demons were brought to Jesus, and He said one word of command and drove the demons out, healing everyone who was sick. These miraculous healings fulfilled what the prophet Isaiah had predicted:

He took our infirmities upon Himself,

and He bore our diseases.

Jesus saw that a crowd had gathered around Him, and He gave orders to go to the other side of the sea. A scribe came up to Him.

Scribe: Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go.

Jesus: Foxes have dens in which to sleep, and the birds have nests. But the Son of Man has no place to lay His head.

Disciple: Jesus, before I do the things You’ve asked me to do, I must first bury my father.

Jesus: Follow Me! And let the dead bury their own dead.

And then Jesus got into a boat, and His disciples followed Him. Out of nowhere, a vicious storm blew over the sea. Waves were lapping up over the boat, threatening to overtake it! Yet Jesus was asleep. Frightened (not to mention confused—how could anyone sleep through this?), the disciples woke Him up.

Disciples: Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!

Jesus: Please! What are you so afraid of, you of little faith?

Jesus got up, told the wind and the waves to calm down, and they did. The sea became still and calm once again. The disciples were astonished.

Disciples: Who is this? What sort of man is He, that the sea and the winds listen to Him?

Eventually Jesus came to the other side of the sea, to the region of the Gadarenes. There, two men who lived near the tombs and were possessed by demons came out to the seaside and met Jesus. They were flailing about, so violent that they obstructed the path of anyone who came their way.

Demons (screaming at Jesus): Why are You here? Have You come to torture us even before the judgment day, O Son of God?

A ways off, though still visible, was a large herd of pigs, eating.

Demons: If You cast us out of the bodies of these two men, do send us into that herd of pigs!

Jesus: Very well then, go!

And the demons flew out of the bodies of the two flailing men, they set upon the pigs, and every last pig rushed over a steep bank into the sea and drowned. The pig herders (totally undone, as you can imagine) took off; they headed straight for town, where they told everyone what they’d just seen—even about the demon-possessed men. And so the whole town came out to see Jesus for themselves. And when they saw Him, they begged Him to leave their area.

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 8 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Does Jesus say, “Fair enough, you must of course bury your father. Just catch up with Me when you are done”? No. This is one of the strange and radical things Jesus brings about—our families are no longer our families. Our deepest bonds are not those of blood. Our family now is found in the bonds of fellowship made possible by this Jesus.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 2nd chapter of the book of Amos:

Here is what the Eternal says about Moab, Ammon’s brother nation east of the Jordan:

Eternal One: For three crimes of Moab,

no for four, I have laid down My sentence and will not revoke it

Because they burned to ash the bones of the king of Edom,

believing this would prevent his resurrection.

So I will send down fire on Moab and burn down the fortresses of Kerioth,

where the people worship Chemosh.

Moab will be destroyed in an uproar,

with warriors screaming and war horns blaring,

And I will destroy their ruler,

along with all the officials who counsel him.

Here is what the Eternal says about Judah:

Eternal One: For three crimes of Judah,

no for four, I have laid down My sentence and will not revoke it

Because they have rejected the teachings of the Eternal One

and have not kept His commandments,

But they have walked away to follow the same lying idols

their ancestors pursued.

So I will send down fire on Judah

and burn down all the fortresses of Jerusalem.

Here, Israel, is what the Eternal says about your past and present behavior:

Eternal One: For three crimes of Israel,

no for four, I have laid down My sentence and will not revoke it

Because they have sold the right-living for silver

and the poor and their property for a pair of sandals.

They have trampled the heads of the weak into the dirt

and pushed the oppressed even further down.

A father and his son sleep with the same girl,

trampling My holy name in the process.

And the religious lie beside every altar

on garments taken as collateral from their debtors;

And in the house of their pagan god, they drink

wine bought with the fines they have imposed on others.

Still I destroyed all of Canaan’s Amorites before them,

those Canaanites who were as tall as the towering cedars,

as strong as the mighty oaks.

As entrenched as they were, I still destroyed their fruit above

and their roots underneath My promised land.

And I brought you up out of the land of Egypt

and led you safely through 40 years of wilderness wandering

to take possession of the land of the Amorites.

I took some of your children and raised them up as prophets,

and I called some of your youth to be Nazirites, set aside to My service.

Isn’t this true, people of Israel?

So says the Eternal.

Eternal One: But you made the Nazirites break their vows and drink wine.

You told the prophets, “Don’t you dare prophesy!”

I will press you down beneath your enemies, just as a wagon full of fresh grain creaks

and groans beneath its own weight.

The swift will lose their speed; there will be no escape;

the strong will lose his strength; the warrior will not survive the battle;

The archer will not be able to stand his ground and aim his arrows.

Even the fastest runner will not escape, nor will the one who rides on horseback.

The bravest and strongest soldiers will throw down their weapons

and run naked for cover on that day.

So says the Eternal One.

The Book of Amos, Chapter 2 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, january 14 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about inner “stillness”:

“Be still and know that I am God...” (Psalm 46:10). This is something you must do; you must quiet your heart to know the Divine Presence; you “set the Lord always before you” (Psalm 16:8) and refuse anxious thoughts that weigh in upon you, creating pressure and “dis-ease.” Let go of your will. Confess your frustrated desire to control the world; abandon the insanity of your self-rule. Worry is a place of exile and pain. Since God’s Name (יהוה) means “Presence” and “Love,” being anxious is to practice the absence of God’s presence instead of practicing his presence... A divided house cannot stand. Where it is written, “cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7), the word translated “anxiety” comes from a verb that means to divide into pieces. Bring your brokenness to God – including those distractions that make you ambivalent and afraid – to receive God’s healing for your divided heart.

“Be still and know that I am God...” (Psalm 46:10). Note that the Hebrew verb translated “be still” (i.e., rapha: רפה) means to “let go,” to stop striving, stop kvetching, and to surrender categorically everything to the care of God (Rom. 8:28). “Being still” means letting go of your supposed “need” to control the world. Relax your hold and rely on God’s care for your life instead, without “taking thought” for tomorrow and its concerns (Matt. 6:34). The past is gone, after all, and the future is God’s business: all you have is the present moment to call upon our Lord. Be faithful in the present hour, then, asking God for the grace and strength you need to endure yourself and engage the task at hand. In this way you will experience the peace of God “which surpasses all understanding” (Phil. 4:7).

"Be still and know that I am..." Prayer is a type of listening (shema), a turning back to know the message of God’s love and hope in Messiah. The word “teshuvah” (תְּשׁוּבָה) means an answer or response to a question. God’s love is the question, and the heart’s repose is the answer. Some of us may find it difficult to trust, to open our heart to receive grace and kindness. For those wounded by abandonment, it can be a great struggle to hear the voice of God calling you “beloved,” “worthy,” "valued," and “accepted.” When you find faith to receive God’s word of love, however, your heart comes alive and you begin to heal... Yeshua speaks of comfort: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet still believe.”

Quieting your heart allows you to hear the holy Spirit’s whisper: “It is I; do not be afraid...” Once the storm of fear dissipates, you can access the truth of God. The Spirit asks us to do teshuvah: “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength” (Isa. 30:15).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 46:10 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm46-10-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm46-10-lesson.pdf

1.12.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

So what does YHVH actually mean?

The name YHVH, like every name of God, is a Hebrew word. It is a very holy and lofty Hebrew word, but it is a word, nonetheless. Like every Hebrew word, YHVH has a root. The root of YHVH is the verb to be or to exist. The form or conjugation of this root that is the name YHVH is an impossible mix of past, present, and future tenses. We can see where God’s name YHVH comes from if we consider three words:

#1 YEHYEH Will be

#2 HOVEH Is / Present

#3 HAYAH Was

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

January 14, 2024

No King in Israel

“In those days there was no king in Israel, but every man did that which was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 17:6)

Four times in the book of Judges we are told that “there was no king in Israel in those days” (Judges 17:6; 18:1; 19:1; 21:25), indicating that the book must have been compiled either by Samuel (the last judge) or someone else of his or a later generation. The first and last of these (which is the final verse in the book) add that “every man did that which was right in his own eyes.” With no centralized government, there were only tribal leaders. Occasionally, one of these would acquire followers from other tribes; these were the “judges” whom God raised up to lead the people out of bondage on the occasions of widespread repentance and prayer.

The intervening periods were times of oppression by enemies and moral and spiritual chaos among the people. They did have a King, of course, but they refused Him, as did the men in the parable who “sent a message after him, saying, We will not have this man to reign over us” (Luke 19:14). When they finally requested a human king, Samuel rebuked them for saying, “Nay; but a king shall reign over us: when the LORD your God was your king” (1 Samuel 12:12).

Lest we be too critical of the ancient Israelites for rejecting God as their king and going each his own way, that is essentially what people are doing today. “There is no fear of God before their eyes,” and they are “lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God” (Romans 3:18; 2 Timothy 3:4). When every man believes what is comfortable and does as he pleases, he in effect becomes his own god, and this is nothing but humanism. But just as this ancient humanism was empty and the people soon desired a human king, so modern atheistic humanism will also revert to pantheism, and the world will then yield to a humanistic king to lead them on to a final deadly confrontation with the true King of kings. HMM

[chimerabytes]

its still storming hereee and rn im thinking about inari & imperius in the rain

the high heavens probably doesnt get any weather aside from sunlight, maybe occasional cloudy skies. and imperius has never really left the high heavens aside from going to the eternal battlegrounds. so im imagining a scenario where like

Inari is lounging in a cleared out area in the Fields of Misery possibly, just sort of laying down in the grass, relaxed as can be.

There are probably a few Khazra roaming about, but after Magdha's cultists had their control over them mostly broken, and the area had begun to be repaired in the years after slaying Malthael the first time around, they dont seem to be bothering Inari at all. They're left alone for the most part.

Inari's hands are resting behind their head, eyes closed, simply enjoying the crisp, cool weather.

They hear thunder, and shortly following that are the plopping of raindrops dusting the grass surrounding them. Inari smiles faintly, as the rain dances down onto their fur and dampening their clothes. The nearby Khazra gently herd the younger kin into one of their nearby den entrances to hide from the storm.

It isn't until a flash is seen nearby through the Necromancer's closed eyelids that they arouse from their moment of peace. A slight magical shimmering effect is heard, which causes Inari's ears to twitch as they open their eyes. They quickly throw their mask on, not keen on letting whoever just shower up see their face.

A skeletal mask, accented with gold, and a halo of sorts attached to it, red and white, with gold accents as well. It hides their face well enough despite the elongated snout typical of foxlike faces.

"Inari," a gruff voice calls out to them, distinctly laced with frustration, "I have been looking for you for two hours!"

Seeing that it was just Inarius, Inari sighs and removes their mask. It unceremoniously plops onto the wet ground before puffing away in a magical cloud of shimmering dust.

"What for?" Inari responds simply, giving the angel a half-hearted glance. They don't even bother to sit up, preferring their current stationary position.

"This is the last time I let you escape from my sights again! You aren't supposed to leave Westmarch until--"

"Ah ah." Inari interrupted him, waving one of their fingers at him dismissively. "Imperius, relax, I'm fine. I didn't think you cared about me so much anyway. I needed a break from being around everyone. It's hard for me to go anywhere without a bunch of people calling my name and... Well, you're the most famous archangel of the High Heavens, shouldn't you know what that's like?"

The angel was quickly growing impatient with Inari's seeming lack of concern. Their relaxed, dismissive attitude bothered him in a way nothing else could.

"You're taking a 'break' by ... Laying out here in the mud? Letting yourself get dirty? How uncouth." He grumbled, about to personally pick the Nephalem up and carry them back to Westmarch himself. However, as he was reaching for them, Inari threw him off guard by grabbing onto his hand and forcing him to sit down on the wet earth next to them.

The angel's armor made an intrusively loud clang! as he was dragged onto the ground. The metallic noise seemed to be drowned out somewhat by the sound of the rain starting to become more of a downpour than a drizzle. He grimaced as he could feel the wet grass and mud begin sticking itself to his backside.

"I think you need to take a moment and relax." Inari spoke insistently, acting rather innocent for just having pulled a man almost three times their size easily to the ground. Much to his chagrin, Imperius couldn't will himself to fight against the cheeky fox. He'd already lost enough dignity by losing several sparring matches to Inari in a row the last couple weeks.

"Hrmph. All you're doing is getting yourself gross and slimy." Imperius muttered, the heat from his wings sizzling. The rain fizzled away as it came close to, but didn't touch them. He wrested his wrist away from the sly Necromancer. "There are far more important things to be done that require yours and my attention." The angel of valor stated as a matter of factly, which only served to get a dry chuckle out of Inari.

"We've been in a rush to do everything for years, Imperius. Things are starting to slow down, don't you ever wish you could just sit back, relax, and enjoy it? I'm sure you get tired of having to constantly run around." Inari responded to him as they turned to look up at him. "Just try to stay here with me for a bit."

Imperius attempted to speak, but decided saying nothing was better than saying anything. He couldn't match Inari's witty tongue, and they'd only gotten the upper hand on him because Imperius had just made the mistake of being caught off guard by the Nephalem. He sighed and sat there, the heat radiating from his wings keeping the rain from making contact with his back.

Inari lied back down in the grass, once again closing their eyes blissfully. Their tails wagged lazily, enjoying the coldness the rain brought them. They were positively drenched by the rain, and seemed to be enjoying it.

"Well, if you happen to fall ill as a result of staying out here drenched to the bone for too long... Don't say that I told you it would happen." The angel spoke after sitting with Inari in complete silence for a few moments. The Necromancer sighed and sat up, head turning to look at the much larger angel. "You'll have to carry me all the way back there then." Inari insisted, which only served to irritate the angel further.

"Is that a challenge?" He asked, shortly before picking Inari up like they weighed about as much as a few feathers. "You are an annoying, insufferable, lazy..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just take me home if you're so keen on it."

"I'll have to keep a closer watch on you, Inari." Imperius sighed in frustration as he stood up and began walking back to town, with Inari cradled in his arms. He had to admit, even though they were great at pushing his buttons, Inari was rather... Adorable.

[littlesmokecloud-yan]

They killed MY HORSE!!!

[the-blackbird-roleplays]

"The pleasure is mine." Dune smiled, unlocking the basement access to his multi-story home next to the Bard's College and a short walk from the Blue Palace. Once he and his new acquaintance were inside, Dune locked the door securely behind them.

"I only pass judgement based on what I see people do, not what others tell me they have done." Dune smiled and walked over to a nearby mannequin and hung up his armor and blades, keeping a small knife on him just in case as always.

"You? I've seen you do nothing but flee from the rather excitable city guard. They once chased after me after mistaking me for a member of the Thieves Guild." Dune smiled genuinely and motioned for her to follow him, heading up the stairs and to a small den where a small white fox sat curled up on one of the many very comfortable looking chairs.

"Please, sit wherever you like, but do not disturb Vix. She's not very fond of being woken up unless there is food or attention being offered as compensation."

Open RP Starter: Wait, I Know You…

With a hurried dash, Serana bolted around the corner of a shady alleyway, panting as she pressed herself up against the cool stonework wall. If she were still alive, she were sure her heart would be racing right now—instead, silence smothered her as the seconds stretched like hours before her, waiting for danger to pass.

Finally, after a moment, the Volkihar vampire princess breathed a sigh of relief. Her whole body slumped with exhaustion—immortal though she was, even she had limits. And when a small altercation in the market led to half the city guard chasing you through the streets, and the other half tried shooting you down from the walls, it led to a very exhausting and troubling day.

For now, though, she could breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed like she was out of trouble for the moment…