#cat hoarding

Aliases / Nicknames: Kittypet, Cutter-cat, Ivypaw, Brittlebones

Gender: female

Sexuality: asexual, aromantic-sapphic

Family: Jessie (mother) unnamed father, Wobblekit (son)

Other Relations: Cranespots (mentor), Redmallow (best friend)

Clan: ShadowClan

Rank: kittypet (formerly), warrior

Characteristics: tiny, formerly a kittypet in a hoarding situation, will bite your ankles off, distrusts authority, lies about her age

Number of Victims: 4

Number of Murders: 4

Murder Method: smothering, poisoning, luring to badger den, snapping neck

Known Victims: Lionthroat, Redmallow, Bearshake, Inkyshine

Victim Profile: warriors who questioned her about her past or about her health

Cause of Death: complications from Rubber Jaw Syndrome and hypocalcemia

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

She knew she was young to have a kit.

Too young.

Her son was weak, she was weak, and everyone and their littermate knew it, so why did cats keep rubbing it in her face?!

“Do you know how old you are, Ivy?” Lionthroat, the old punk of a healer, had asked as he looked her over from a safe distance.

“You’re awful small. Little brittlebones, eh?” said by Redmallow, the old grumpy red tom, as he basked in the sun.

“Better eat enough to grow up properly!” said by Bearshake, the bastard deputy who refused to believe that she was 14 moons old.

“I can nurse him if you can’t make enough milk” Inkshine had told her. The black queen whose passiveness was made worse when Wobble ended up preferring her to his own mother!

Insult by insult, they built until something snapped.

The first to go was Lionthroat. She’d honestly expected to be caught then and there, with how much he thrashed. But she got away with it! In his own den!

Next was Redmallow. The poor old tom just couldn’t hold his foxglove.

Bearshake was difficult. She tried for moons, only to find that, where she went, he usually followed to “keep her out of trouble." Who knew that her little body kept her out of sight so well? Bearshake didn’t see her, and neither did the badger that got him.

Then it was Inkyshine’s turn. The queen tucked Wobblekit against another queen, and followed Ivyburble to her death. But first, she said something that made Ivyburble see red.

“I hope your life gets better after this.”

She snapped Inkyshine’s neck, and returned to camp.

She didn’t want to eat.

Her mouth hurt more and more, as Wobble got bigger. Soon he was larger than her!

But she got smaller.

Weaker.

Everyone and their littermate knew it.

Additional Information:

--Submission by @ambitiousauthor

--Ivy didn’t realize that her victims were trying to help her, since the cats in her old home were… yikes.

--She was actually 11 months old when she came to the Clan.

--Inkyshine viewed her as a daughter.

--Wobblekit became Wobbleshine, and later Wobblestar.

Tony crossed his arms, and gave Bucky his sternest frown. “No.”

Bucky gave him puppy-eyes. “Please?”

“No.”

“Tony -”

“Absolutely not.”

“Darlin’ -”

“Oh, no, don’t you go breaking out the Brooklyn on me,” Tony said, scowling and pointing his finger at Bucky. “It’s not going to work. We already have seventeen cats, Bucky. We’re not keeping it!”

“But she’s just a kitten!” Bucky wailed, hugging the little ball of orange fur he’d been cradling to his chest even tighter.

Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said, just as their largest gray tabby - Mick - sauntered up and began rubbing himself all over Tony’s legs. Jovi, their gray and white longhair, was purring happily from her perch on Tony’s shoulder. “Bucky, I love you, but you can’t adopt every stray cat you pick up off the street. We’re not an animal shelter, and we’re barely able to handle what we have as it is.”

Bucky hunched protectively over the little orange kitten. “The tower’s plenty big enough!”

Tony sighed again. “It’s not just about the space,” he said, and waved his arm towards the couch, which was taken up by five sprawled-out cats. “We have to practically punt cats out of our bed at night so we can sleep. I woke up this morning, unable to breathe, because Rick had decided to lay across my face. Steve ranted for an hour yesterday because BJ barfed on the oil-painting he’d been working on. Pepper’s been making me change at the office since everything I own is covered in cat hair now and, speaking of which, I’m starting to forget what food tastes like without cat hair in it.”

“Don’t forget about all the scratching,” Clint added from his spot in front of the couch. Bruce and Sam had claimed both the armchairs, and since the cats had refused to move from the couch, he’d been forced to sit on the floor. “In the last three months, I’ve bled more from cat-related injuries than I have from Avenging.”

Bucky scowled at him. “Then maybe you should be a little nicer to them,” he sniffed, before turning his puppy-eyes back on Tony. “They’re homeless! They don’t have anywhere else to go! And besides, you love them, too!”

As if to prove his point, Jovi purred louder, and butted her head up against Tony’s cheek. Tony brought a hand up to absently pet her, then yelped when Ozzy, who’d run Mick off so he could rub against Tony’s legs instead, got jealous and began clawing his way up Tony’s leg. Tony quickly reached down and peeled him off before he could do much more damage, then scowled at Bucky.

“See, they love you,” Bucky said, looking pleased rather than contrite.

Tony handed Ozzy off to Natasha when she passed by, then crossed his arms again. “We’re not getting another cat,” he reiterated, despite the guilty clench of his stomach when Bucky’s face fell. “She’s just going to have to go to a shelter. Which goes double for any others you find.”

Bucky looked down at the little kitten. “If they follow me home, I’m not going to abandon them,” he mumbled, gently running his finger over her head.

“Maybe if you quit feeding them and giving them treats, they wouldn’t follow you home,” Tony pointed out.

The little kitten sneezed, then meowed pitifully.

When Bucky looked up at Tony, his lower lip was actually sticking out. “She has a cold!”

Tony grimaced. “Bucky,” he started, but before he could get another word out, Bucky deposited the kitten into Tony’s hands. Tony juggled the squirming ball of fur for a second, then hugged her to his chest so he wouldn’t drop her and gave Bucky the stink eye.

The kitten gave another pitiful, distressed little meow. Tony glanced down at it, and found it staring at him with eyes nearly as wide and pleading as Bucky’s. Tony felt a pang in his chest, and ran his thumb over the fur between the kitten’s ears to soothe it. The kitten started to purr, loudly, and rubbed its face up against Tony’s hand.

Tony returned his gaze to Bucky, and found the other man grinning triumphantly. “She likes you,” he said, and put his hand over Tony’s.

Tony sighed deeply. “Fine,” he relented, ignoring the groans from everyone else in the room. “But this is the last time, Bucky. We can’t adopt any more.”

Bucky made a pleased sound, then bent down and gave Tony a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Whatever you say, котенок,” he agreed, before bending down and cooing at their new kitty.

Don’t click through if hoarding stories wig you out.