#Prey Deputy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kudossi · 6 months

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and a yellow moon glowed bright

Years later, when Ivypool herself is only a memory and before she’s completely lost to time, she’ll look over ThunderClan, wherever they might be, and still look for her daughter in every face.

The stories have it wrong already, and the truth will be dust before long. Bristlefrost isn’t alive in their memories. She’s twice-dead, drowned in black, choking water, a light snuffed out too soon. Bristlefrost was the prodigy — the daughter cats dreamed of, the first to find her voice and her paws, the leader of her siblings, the apprentice who did not graduate even earlier than she did because there was no prey in the forest to be found, not because of any failings on her part.

Cats starved, that long winter. Not Bristlefrost. Never her daughter, her clever, resourceful last-born. And she had once occupied this spot, designated for deputies, even though she’d never had an apprentice of her own. Would never have an apprentice of her own, now, even though she deserved it more than anything. Even though she’d deserved to stay deputy, but had given the role over with a smile, no hint of dark ambition in her gaze.

Ivypool steps into the deputy position under a brand-new leader with a whisper instead of a bang, the pounding of blood in her ears the only reminder that cats had been here before — that cats had died here before, and that Bramblestar’s first deputy becoming leader was a fluke, an odd quirk of fate. It hasn’t been done in living memory, nor long before that. Leaders do not usually step down, and when they do, they rarely stay with their Clan, or even within reach of their territory. First deputies do not often become leaders in turn. Usually this event is a bittersweet one, with a body or bodies laid out in the clearing, their eyes closed swiftly to avoid the rigor of after-death, but this is almost-peaceful, with only the murmurs of those who could not easily accept change as detractors.

Ivypool will die long before Squirrelstar. She’s—surprisingly okay with this, but she thinks she’s been at peace with her death since before Hollyleaf had stepped between her and a deathblow from one of the only friends she’d ever had.

(“You were my friend!” Ivypool screams in her worst nightmares, Hollyleaf’s blood dripping from her pelt.

“I was never anyone’s friend,” Hawkfrost murmurs in return, something aching-sad in his voice, Hollyleaf’s lifeless form pinned under his claws. “I was born to what I am. We’re the same, you and I.” He pushes the black cat away from his paws with disgust — not for the body, but for Ivypool herself. Blood bubbles from the horrible wound at the corpse’s throat. “She should have been the one,” he says sometimes, in the ones that shatter her already pieced-together heart. “She died in your place.”

“I know,” Ivypool says, and she does know — she knows it more than anyone else alive.)

“It should have been Hollyleaf,” she says to Squirrelstar, quietly, at the end of one of their dusk meetings.

Sorrow flashes in Squirrelstar’s gaze, but it’s buried as soon as it comes. “It’s you,” she says. “It has always been you.”

It is not a truth — not in the way Ivypool remembers them from her childhood — but it is not a lie, either. Hollyleaf chose her, in the way dying deputies might choose their successor. She is always an echo of another cat burned by starlight. It is a comfort, sometimes. In others, she begs the spirit who’d saved her life for mercy, for clemency, until she runs out of breath.

(“I’ll find her,” whispers a voice Ivypool had almost forgotten, in dreams she forgets as soon as she wakes. “I’ll walk the skies ceaselessly, I promise you.”

But there is no bringing Bristlefrost back, and a part of Ivypool has died with her.)

When Ivypool wakes, her Clanmates breathe around her, steadying her rabbit-quick heart. Fernsong’s tail wraps snugly around her flank, Thriftear curled only one nest behind, and she does not lose her breath at the way Flipclaw’s dark tabby stripes curl over his spine. She hasn’t in a long time, she knows, but the impulse is there, sharp as ice underneath her ribs.

(She’d once thought his brown tabby pelt a punishment from the stars. She loves her son, would give her life for him, but the feeling that StarClan may have meted some punishment down in the shade of his pelt remains long after he’s received his warrior name.

She’d begged Bramblestar to give him a suffix that was as unassumingly kind and silly as her son always was. Instead he’d given him -claw, as if to remind her of her failings. She is not sorry to see his form slip into the elders’ den, bereft of the nine lives he’d once so jealously hoarded.)

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the-sea-and-the-storm · 1 month

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Introducing the current leader of Bluffclan...

Lynxstar | she/her | leader | 5 Cycles, 4 Moons | played by Victor

Lynxstar is Bluffclan's current leader, having received her four lives after the death of her predecessor, Nightsun, at the hands of a long illness. She has only been clan leader since the beginning of Autumn following a notably brief stint as deputy. While Lynxpath had earned the respect of her clanmates as a warrior and council member, Lynxstar struggles to prove that this respect was rightfully given. Many of the clan's senior warriors remember Lynxstar as she was in her youth. A firebrand, and then a young warrior desperate to give back to the clan that had allowed her to grow. There is no doubt that her intentions come out of a love for her clan, but her methods leave questions about how ready she is for the role she's taken on. With prey becoming harder and harder to find as the clan's population grew, Lynxstar has restricted hunting, marking certain areas of the territory off-limits until prey populations recover. This decision has earned her few friends, as a particularly harsh winter forced the clan to ration their food more than they already have. A recent string of predator attacks -- one of which claimed one of Lynxstar's lives along with that of a council member -- have left the clan wondering if Lynxstar's plan has only nourished the predators which would just as soon turn their hunt towards a weakened clan.

Do you put your faith in authority, or do you believe that you know best? Would you do whatever it takes to protect your own? Is balance worth the lives it will cost to achieve it?

The Sea and the Storm is open for applications until May 10th!

#wcrp #warrior cats roleplay #wc #tsats rp #lynxstar #art by victor

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clangenrising · 2 months

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Month 14 - Newleaf

As usual, rumors spread through camp like a wildfire in greenleaf. When Sagetooth got back from tending the garlic patches, she immediately overheard Ospreymask and Branchbark whispering about something scandalous.

“It’s just ironic, isn’t it?” Ospreymask was saying. “Like, he’s always getting on me for being too chummy with Pebblefall or whoever and then he goes and has kits with a rogue.”

“Yeah,” agreed Branchbark, tail twitching. “I honestly don’t think it’s that big a deal, but it’s a little funny that it’s him. Like, I guess now he’ll get a taste of his own medicine.”

“Who will?” snapped Sagetooth. Both warriors flinched, fur brushing up, and turned to look at her like they had been caught eating prey on patrol.

Ospreymask recovered quickly, though. “Russetfrond,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He got Mystique pregnant.”

Sagetooth sighed heavily. “That fool boy. What was he thinking?”

“Who knows,” Branchbark huffed. “Maybe he thinks the rules don’t apply to him now that he’s deputy.” Sagetooth wasn’t listening anymore. She stalked off towards her den, rehearsing the scolding she was going to give Russetfrond when she saw him next.

She couldn’t believe it! She knew that the world was going insane these days - both Stormwhisper and Blazingbrush having broken the code and had kits - but if there had been anyone she had expected to stick to tradition, it would have been Russetfrond. He’d always had more sense than his mother. Honestly, Sagetooth liked the boy. It was that small affection that was feeding her massive disappointment now.

She wasn’t expecting to see him in her den. He was talking with Oddstripe and both of them looked up when she entered. Russetfrond’s ears slid backwards in shame.

“There you are,” she said, scowling at him.

“Sagetooth,” Oddstripe started, surely about to counsel her to go easy on him, but Russetfrond raised his tail to stop the other healer.

“It’s alright, Oddstripe,” he said grimly. “Would you give us a moment?”

Oddstripe hesitated but nodded, lips pursed. “Alright.” Ears back against his skull, he slank out of the den, leaving them alone.

“I can't believe you,” Sagetooth said. “How could you be so foolish?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, looking down at his paws. “I’m sorry Sagetooth. This never should have happened.”

“Damn right!” she huffed, stomping past him to deposit her garlic in the herb stores. “Goldenstar has always had trouble respecting Clan tradition so I would have expected this from someone like her but you? You must have known this wasn’t acceptable behavior!” She sat down and turned to look at him, making her disapproval clear on her face.

“I did,” he said, and Sagetooth was surprised by his melancholy. “I knew the whole time that it was wrong and I still did it. I thought it would be fine if I kept it a secret, as if StarClan didn’t already know. I’m lucky they didn’t pick a harsher punishment.” Despite herself, Sagetooth felt her heart soften.

“Yes, you are,” she said firmly. “I’m glad you at least seem to understand what you did wrong.”

“I do,” he nodded, meeting her eyes with a hollow, hopeless gaze. That broke her heart. That expression didn’t belong on his powerful face.

“Tch, come here,” she sighed, spreading her tail to invite him close. He obediently approached and settled down against her flank, leaning down into her despite his superior height. Sagetooth stretched up to give him a few licks around the ears.

“What’s done is done, kit,” she continued. “All that’s left is how you make it right. You’ve told Goldenstar?”

“Yes,” he huffed sullenly. “She said it wasn’t going to be a problem. I hate how accepting she’s being about it.”

“It’s her way,” scowled Sagetooth. She pushed down the complaints she had that were begging to be voiced. Her duty now was to guide Russetfrond, not gripe about Goldenstar. “Have you tried convincing the kittypet to join the Clan?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “She’s not going to cooperate. It was all I could do to keep her from taking the kits back to her twolegs.” Sagetooth growled lowly. Kittypets…

“Well, good on you,” she said definitively. “Once they’re born they’ll need a strong paw to raise them up. I’m sure you’ll be able to foster their loyalties properly and turn them into excellent warriors.”

“Thank you, Sagetooth.” Russetfrond closed his eyes and leaned into her. She wrapped her tail around him and purred reassuringly.

“It’s going to be alright,” she said into his forehead. “The Clan will be there for you. StarClan is forgiving. This is a blessing in disguise, mark my words.” Russetfrond grunted tiredly. The two of them sat there for a good long while, Sagetooth letting him take comfort in her presence. It was good, she thought, to feel like her guidance was needed again.

She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to StarClan. Let him learn his lesson, she prayed. Let these kits be loyal warriors. Let their mother cause no problems.

After a few more long, quiet moments, Russetfrond gathered himself and stood up with a deep, slow breath. “I should get back to work,” he said. “Sparrowpaw has a lot of training to do before he gets his warrior name.”

“Good,” Sagetooth nodded. “Devote yourself to your Clan. It will make these next few months easier.” He nodded dutifully, looking a little less defeated. “And don’t be afraid to come to me if you need advice. It’s what I’m here for.”

“I will,” he said. “Thank you, Sagetooth.”

“StarClan guide you, kit,” she dipped her head and he returned the gesture.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Sagetooth #Ospreymask #Branchbark #Russetfrond #Oddstripe #Newleaf #clangenrising

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twola · 1 year

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Hey don't know if this one is up your alley but I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is a sharpshooter (kinda like Black Belle) and Arthur was originally gonna take her to the sheriff's but they end up getting caught up in a fight with the O'Driscolls and she saves his life, then que the enemies to friends to lovers lmao

Later on they meet again and take down a house full of lemoyne raiders, they both lay low for a while then smut ensues lol.

I'm bad at describing but you can put your own twist on it if you want, make it however long you want, don't matter I just love your writing ❤️❤️

Hoooooo’kay. So this is probably a bit harder than the original requestor was thinking, but I’ve written too many sweet one-shots recently. It’s time to get a little nasty.

Anything You Can Do

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

Arthur meets his match in one of his bounties. His infuriatingly difficult match.

Curtis Malloy rolls his eyes as the gunslinger ahead of him inquires about the bounty poster tucked on the far corner of his desk. Of course, the man would ask about that one. A picture of a woman, of all things, wanted for murder, robbery, and theft. A woman with hard eyes but a pleasing face.

Wasn’t the first one to come askin’. The sheriff took the damn poster off the wall after men started dying when they went after her. He’d hear talk of fool-hearted bounty hunters heading north into Ambarino to find this lady to bring her in, only to end with lead between their eyes, floating down the Dakota River.

But this man, well, he’s been rather successful as of late - and Malloy knew that he probably ran in the same vein of people he was picking up. No loyalty to the trade, he guesses. And in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t any skin off of his nose. Would get the man out of his hair and stop begging for more folks to hunt. Give him more time to deal with this Moira situation…

“Supposed to be up campin’ by Window Rock. But she likely has the area booby-trapped. Startin’ to lose count of the men who’ve gone up there to get killed tryin’ to take in this little lady.” Malloy warns as he hands the poster to the man ahead of him. The man grunts, tucking away the poster in his brown leather jacket, nodding before exiting out to the street.

Malloy gives a look to one of his deputies across the room.

Both begin to laugh.

Arthur’s seen his fair share of women easily fend for themselves. He saw the way Black Belle could shoot - likely better than he could. He sure as hell wouldn’t want to meet Mrs. Adler in a dark alley. She’d likely stab him before he could get a hand on her.

This woman supposedly had a deadly shot - a pile of bounty hunters at her feet. He knew he wasn’t going to just walk up to the tent and threaten you. This required a bit more finesse.

But still, as he gazed through his binoculars at his prize, you certainly didn’t look like the woman people were talking about in Valentine. Fairly short in stature, long dark hair falling in waves over your back. Arthur raises an eyebrow when he notices your curves as you kneel on one knee at your campfire.

Nope, he definitely does not miss the way those trousers hug your form.

He also does not miss the revolver in the belt slung around your hips as you rise from the fire, stretching your arms above your head and yawning. He does not miss the fishing line taut along the ground, tied to a rock precariously perched on a tree branch. Obviously placed there to alert you of intruders. Several fellers likely met their end due to that fishing line.

Arthur circles the campsite at a wide angle, hidden by the shadows of the night. He takes his time hunting his prey, taking in the lay of the land around, noting your movements, and ways of egress - like stalking a deer, he has you in his sights and is damn sure of it before he makes his move.

That move being edging dangerously close, revolver drawn, and diving at you once you’re in distance to reach. Your breath is knocked from your lungs as his large form lands atop you on the hard ground, caging in your limbs beneath him. You squawk, in a rather undignified manner, as he holsters his own revolver and reaches into yours to draw it out, disarming you and tossing your revolver several feet away.

“Get your damn hands off me.” You spit, but alas, the way he has you pinned down, you’re unable to fight back. The strength of this man was frightening. If it weren’t for the damn noose you know is waiting for you at the end of this, you would be excited by how strong he is. He quickly and easily hogties you, leaving you cursing and sputtering on the ground as he whistles for his horse.

Once his mare has sidled up, he heaves you over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes, and you yelp in indignation as he tosses you over the rump of his horse.

A sack of potatoes with a very nice ass in those trousers.

Arthur blinks briefly before shaking his head, pulling himself up into the saddle. Just to cut back through Cumberland and to Valentine, then he’d get the pretty penny on this woman’s head. One of the larger bounties he’s seen, he has to admit.

“You lousy sack of shit, I wasn’t bothering anyone!” You yell from the rump of the horse.

“Ain’t me who decides your bounty, Miss-” Arthur simply replies, urging the mare into a trot, before you cut him off with a hiss.

“Say another word and I’ll geld you.” You interrupt before he can say your name.

“Sure, lady.” Arthur chuckles, knowing you wouldn’t be gelding anyone hogtied on the back of his horse, crossing the Dakota near Fort Wallace.

Blessed silence. For what seems like only a few moments.

“Since you know me so well, who the hell are you?” You ask, raising your head a bit.

“Now why would I tell you that?” Arthur chuckles, urging his horse southward on the road, deep into Cumberland Forest.

“I’d like to at least know the man’s name before I get fucked.” You retort, an even more sour tone in your voice.

“Arthur Morgan, my lady.” He replies, egging you on with the honorific, knowing you ain’t anything close to that, especially with the mouth on you. He’s about to stay something to prod you further when he hears voices up the road in the distance.

“Shit.” Arthur curses, as four green-sashed men crash through the trees. He immediately circles the horse to change direction as he hears a rider approaching on horseback, yelling at him.

Of course, O’Driscolls had taken up again at Six Point. Morgan, you idiot, you’re waltzing straight past them.

“Let me go and I can help you.” You call from behind him, trying to duck from whizzing bullets as much as your bindings would allow.

“Yeah, so you can shoot me in the back of the head too? Not a chance, lady.” Arthur retorts as he spurs his mare into a gallop, and you grunt as the wind gets knocked out of you from the jolting.

The O’Driscolls are in hot pursuit, the rider is joined by three others as Arthur pushes his horse back toward the Dakota, but with you slung over the back of her rump, he’s not able to urge his horse faster, not if he was going to get this bounty. Needed you alive.

He curses aloud as a bullet whizzes by his head on the right, and he turns the horse to the left, which was a poor decision as the mare reaches the cliffsides jutting up on either side of the Dakota, the river far below.

Pinned down along the face of the cliff, Arthur senses his horse getting skittish. Any more of this and the mare is going to buck him, and the bounty. He curses again as a bullet nearly hits his hat, sliding off the saddle and dragging you to the ground. You squeak with indignation until you hit the ground, groaning and cursing him. But to your surprise, he is unsheathing his knife and cutting the ropes at your ankle and wrists. You immediately scramble up and turn to him, smacking him hard across the face.

“Serves you right, asshole.”

“Y’done now, lady?” Arthur fumes, working his jaw as he reaches over your shoulder to grab the long guns from his horse’s saddles, before the damn thing spooks and runs away.

“If you wanna go with them, be my guest, but O’Driscolls don’t have a particularly good reputation of their handlin’ of women.” Arthur sneers at you, shoving a repeater at your chest, glaring before another bullet whizzes by and the both of you hit the ground out of sheer reflex.

You immediately open and close the lever to chamber a round, gritting your teeth. “This thing full at least?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Arthur retorts as he pulls revolvers from his belt, dual wielding as his mare screams and bolts for cover.

By the time the two of you rise, bullets fly and hit their targets, one O’Driscoll falling off his horse in a spray of blood to his chest, another gets shot in the head and his body limply clings in the saddle. Arthur runs across the open glen, knowing he’s a sitting duck in the wide open, and you dart in the other direction to the other treeline, quickly disappearing from sight.

Goddamnit. Of course you ran. Morgan, you’re even more of an idiot.

Arthur is fuming to himself so much so that he doesn’t hear the clicking of the revolver’s safety until too late, the steel of a barrel being pressed against the back of his neck.

“Drop 'em’.” The O’Driscoll threatens, and Arthur drops the revolvers in his hands, clattering to the ground as his captor pushes him forward, winding an arm around his shoulder and pressing the revolver further into his neck. They stop in the middle of the clearing.

“Think ol’ Colm misses ya, Morgan.”

Arthur scowls at the ground with the warm barrel of the gun against his neck, probably burning his skin. The O’Driscoll laughs behind him.

“You stop right there, you mick bastard.”

Your voice, high and sharp, cuts through the mountain air like a knife.

The O’Driscoll spins himself and Arthur around, forcing Arthur ahead of him to shield most of his body.

“C’mon now, you go on and leave the shootin’ to the men, dearie. I’ll even give you a head start.” The O’Driscoll laughs as you point the repeater dead at his face, twenty feet away.

You don’t move, and the O’Driscoll frowns, shoving his pistol into Arthur’s neck harder.

“Put the gun down, lady. Or Morgan gets the next round.”

Your stance never wavers. A small smirk comes across your face.

“Doin’ me a favor then?”

The O’Driscoll raises his eyebrow, but in a flash, it is all over. The crack of the repeater echoes in the glen as a body hits the ground. Arthur’s hat rolls on its lid across the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” Arthur stumbles ahead, holding his ear, absolutely covered in blood and brain matter. His eyes flit behind him, to take in the O’Driscoll, dead on the ground, half his face caved in from the bullet that hit him between the eyes.

He looks up to you in shock and bewilderment. You slowly lower the repeater and open and close the lever, chambering another round. Completely unfazed.

“I got one more round in here, Mister Morgan. I’d like very much not to use it on you.” You state with an air of superiority, dead serious as you grip the repeater tightly.

Arthur slowly raises his hands, his guns still strewn across the ground feet away after his tussle with the now-dead O’Driscoll.

“Now listen to me. I’m gonna take one of these horses and be on my way. And you ain’t gonna follow me. You’re gonna forget that bounty and get on with the next sucker you chase down.” You say, with an even, deadly tone.

“Don’t you usually shoot them men comin’ after you?” Arthur asks, his hands still outstretched.

“I do. But usually the men comin’ after me ain’t as handsome as you are. Would be a shame to blow your brains out.” You say with a smirk, starting to back away, toward where the O’Driscoll’s horse grazes in the long grass.

Arthur’s cheeks tinge pink as he remains still, but lowers his hands.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again, Mister Morgan. Maybe you can make up for me savin’ your pretty hide.”

You give an exaggerated curtsy before climbing into the saddle of the horse, the repeater still ready to fire. You grab the reins tightly and circle the horse once before galloping off, leaving Arthur Morgan standing alone in the clearing, saved but for the dead O’Driscoll.

Lemoyne was too damn hot. Sweltering. Disgusting. Even as the dusk fell. Even outside of the damn swamp, Arthur hated it. The gang had moved south after that shootout with Cornwall in Valentine. Bad business all around. Now, Dutch and Hosea have been working both angles of the local yokel families, locked in some kind of bitter generational feud.

Arthur just needed to clear his head. Dutch had him working as a lawman, of all the ridiculous things. He’s taken this free moment to do his own work, having been tipped off on a Lemoyne Raiders safe house not far from Ringneck Creek, supposed to be just a few of these idiots and a cache of items they have stored from their roadside robberies throughout the state.

Ripe for the taking.

The old barn house stood on the rise, and he could tell, as he swung down from his mare just beyond the treeline. He smacks her rump and she’s off, back down toward the Kamassa. He lets the rifle strapped across his shoulders down, aiming through its sights at the movement of men in the distance.

“Well well, if it isn’t the fastest draw in the west.” A sharp voice cuts through the quiet.

Arthur swings his rifle at the interloper that appeared several feet away from him, cursing himself for not being aware of his surroundings.

Oh. It’s you.

God damnit.

“The hell are you doing here?” Arthur harshly whispers, lowering the rifle.

You nod your head toward the barn behind him, “I was going in on a tip I got that the yokels had things stashed here.”

Arthur frowns. “Don’t tell me you got that from Alden.”

“The ticket man, in Rhodes.”

“God damnit.” He rolls his eyes. He scowls at you, standing there with your hand on your hip. Looking positively infuriating in dark trousers and a fairly tight-fitting button-down. Highlighting your curves, while your dark hair is pulled back into a long braid.

Focus, damnit. Arthur chides himself as he turns back toward the barn, looking again through the scope of this rifle at the men mulling about.

“Tell you what, Mister Morgan. You could use another gun. I could use wastin’ less bullets on these inbreds. Split what we find.”

Arthur has counted seven Raiders going in and out of the barn, which would be a fairly large number if he were alone. He sighs in exasperation.

“Fine.”

“Well, probably wasn’t the whole lot of them, I’m sure there are more of these wannabe civil war soldiers slinking about.” You muse, rifling through papers on a makeshift as Arthur picks a lockbox, pocketing the billfolds inside. Stepping over a dead body, you catch Arthur’s frame over that lockbox.

You notice what his hands are doing, and glare at him. “Hey - asshole, we’re splittin’ this.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, but acquiesces, tossing one of the billfolds at you. You catch it with ease.

“After that noise we should probably lay low for a bit.” You move toward the barn door, shouldering your repeater, stopping to listen outside for a moment.

“Oh, so now there’s a we?” Arthur snaps back at you as he follows you to the door.

“Be my guest if you wanna head into the swamps at this time of night. I, on the other hand, have a cabin I cleared out on the other side of Dewberry Creek.” You glance at him, pushing through the barndoor with your hand on your gun, looking around for any kind of movement. Your horse has meandered closer, and you whistle lowly for it to come closer.

You pull yourself into the saddle and look down at him.

“You coming? Or you just gonna stand there like an idiot?”

“Ain’t this homey?” Arthur retorts, looking at the rundown state of the cabin inside. A bed, with a near-disintegrating blanket, an old table, broken cabinets, and maybe one chair that didn’t look like it was about to fall apart.

“Ain’t your momma teach you manners? Lady invites you into her abode and you just insult her.” You slide the rifle from your back and place it upright against the stone fireplace.

“You’re a lady now? Coulda fooled me.” Arthur follows, placing his repeater on the table, unwilling to have you get the last word in.

You sneer at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Last time I checked, I have two tits and a cunt - pretty sure that makes me a lady - unless you’ve encountered different.”

“Pretty sure a lady wouldn’t be speakin’ like that.” Arthur returns, glancing away from you and trying to hide the flush that he knows is burning up his cheeks - he’s trying not to look at your breasts, framed by your crossed arms. Trying not to think of your ass in those trousers, the taper of your hips, the cunt he suddenly can’t not imagine filling.

“Oh, is you a gentleman? A dashing outlaw with ladies falling in his lap from here to Armadillo?” You point at him, pressing your finger into his chest, gritting your teeth as your self-righteousness and hackles both rise.

For once, he’s silent. For once in the whole goddamn time you’ve known him, he’s given you an opening. Seize it. Take the enemy down. Merciless. Just like shootin’.

“Bet you couldn’t please a lady even if you was the one being paid.” Your voice lowers as you go in for the kill.

To his credit, Arthur resurges with sputtering indignation, pushing you several steps backward until your back slams against the cabin wall. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Christ alive, the mouth on you. How’s about I shut you up by givin’ you somethin’ to fill it?”

With his hands clamped on your shoulders and his large frame looming over yours, it’s not fear that you feel. Not that he’s going to hurt you, or turn you in. Something more profound than that. Something that shoots to your very core.

“I’d like to see you try.” You hiss at him, and see his jaw work in frustration, “Probably can’t even make a woman come.”

His thigh immediately rams forward, parting your legs as his hands fly to your hips, lifting you several inches above the ground, you yelp as he presses up against your core.

“I’m gonna make you eat them words, missy.” He hisses as he leans into your ear.

“Not if I make you come first.” You respond breathily, your hand moving to cup at the seam of his pants, grabbing at his burgeoning cock. He grunts and shoves his thigh up higher, and you mewl as it causes you to grind against the hard bone of his femur.

“You’re askin’ fer it.” He grunts as he presses his pelvis against you, his cock hard against your belly. A zing of pleasure shoots through your core in response. He’s not lacking, in any measure. His hands briefly leave your body to pull at the buckle of his gun belt, and the belt clatters to the floor at his feet.

“Yeah,” You grab his collar two-fisted and pull him to you, “I am askin’ fer it.” You parrot back in his drawl, lips inches away from his for just a moment, before you bridge the distance and take his mouth forcefully, not letting him respond as you shove your tongue inside.

He’s not surprised, nor taken off balance, matching your fevered press into his mouth with his own, battling for supremacy as his tongue wrests with yours. You barely feel one of his hands leave your hip and start to work the buttons of your trousers, it's not until he works them open enough to shove his hand down the front of your pants that you groan in surprise into his mouth. His rough, calloused fingers weave their way downwards, under the waistband of your bloomers, and straight to your moistening core, where he slides a long, meaty finger into your cunt, making you mewl.

But you cannot let him win.

Summoning all the fight you have in you, battling against the sweet sound of his hand smacking up against wet skin, your hands shoot down to cup his burgeoning erection through his pants, and he moans as his hips move to press forward into your touch.

You grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you open his pants, breathing through your nose as he latches his mouth to the side of your neck, slipping his middle finger inside you, making you curse under your breath as you finally reach your goal. You nearly rip his pants open and fish his hard cock out, your fingers wrapping around it as you begin to pump his shaft, desperate to make him feel as helpless as he’s making you feel.

Arthur moans needily against your neck, rolling his hips, and losing his rhythm as he rocks his hand into you. You smile as your head tilts back, pleased at yourself that you’ve met him and matched him.

It would not be for long, though. He retracts his hands and finds your hips again, and the next thing you know, you’re lifted in the air, caught off guard, and instinctually wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both the several steps to the table. One of his hands moves to your lower back, keeping you upright, as he lays you down and spreads you out on the flat surface.

The gunslinger leans over and captures your lips again as he starts to work your trousers and bloomers down your waist, over the swell of your ass that you raise in the air to help him. You have the wherewithal to kick your boots off as he works your pants down your thighs, standing to his full height as he peels them off you completely, leaving your lower half bare to his gaze. Your tapered hips, glistening folds, wet and ready for him.

You take advantage of his dumb-struck stare to unhook his suspenders from the front of his pants, yanking them down over his hips to let them rest above his knees.

Wasting no time, before you know he’s going to catch you, you wrap one hand around his shaft and cup his testicles with the other, squeezing both gently as he groans, his hands holding himself up as he leans above you, his hips starting to thrust forward.

It's only a matter of time. Only a matter of time before his eyes open, hands snap to your hips, and you’re yanked bodily forward, ass nearly hanging off the table, and you let go of his member as he presses forward, the head of his cock touching your wet folds and making you both moan aloud.

“Still askin’ fer it?” He pants, and all you can do is moan in response and shake your head in the affirmative, spreading your legs for him.

Arthur immediately slides his cock all the way in, until the chestnut curls at the base of his cock meet the dark hair over your cunt, and you cannot help but to mewl, watching as he slowly withdraws and presses in again. Your legs spread even wider as both of you can’t look away from the sight: his long, hard shaft glistening with your slick, disappearing into your body.

One of his hands moves from your hip to splay beneath your abdomen and presses down hard, he moans in appreciation as he can feel himself through your skin as he buries his cock in your cunt again. And again. And again. You fall back from your elbows completely onto your back, the pressure of him making you gasp and whine.

Fuck, this is where you hurtle toward that point of no return, there’s no holding back the wave of pleasure that threatens to drown you as Arthur pounds himself into your hips. There’s no winning or losing anymore, there is just the chasing of that pleasure.

You’re cresting, back beginning to arch uncontrollably as he pumps into you hard and fast. You don’t give a shit about losing, because you’re wrung so tightly you’re about to snap, needy whines escaping your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut, unable to stop tears from overstimulation from spilling down your cheeks.

The head of Arthur’s cock keeps hitting that spot in your cunt that makes you want to die in pleasure, his large hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

You can barely recognize the shriek you give as your own, and the grunts in return, fucking you harder through your release. Your spasming, clenching, shaking release.

“Yes, yes,” Arthur grits out. The broken syllables of his name escape your mouth as you come, he thrusts deep inside of you and you gush warm slick around his length.

He immediately groans, loudly, clenching your hips hard as he jerks himself from you, painting your mound white with arcs of his spend landing in your dark pubic hair. Arthur pants, not letting go of your hips as you at least have the wherewithal to lean up on your elbows again.

“Think…” he rasps, voice sex-hoarse and breathless, “I win.”

A smile cracks from your lips as you tighten your legs around his hips, drawing him closer.

“Best…” you pant, “Two outta three.”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fandom #rdr2 #twolafic #tumblr prompt #red dead smut #arthur morgan x reader #voluptatem

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shojizbae · 1 month

Text

Gone South

Spencer Reid x Reader

This was not edited so if there’s hella typos I’ll prolly fix it later

Warnings: angst/comfort, gore, torture, attempted SA

Things could not have gone worse.

The case had been going on for a week and a half. Everyone was exhausted. And now, you were gone. Well not gone, the team had clear visuals via the many cameras the unsub (the team knew his name, Cooper McNamara) had set up. Garcia was monitoring you from the seven angles Cooper had.

The team always takes it to heart if someone gets hurt. But, when someone got taken in. When Spencer had been taken by Tobias they felt like the world stopped spinning. Now their sun had been stolen.

That’s how the team refers to you—human sunshine. Now you were gone. There, but gone. Penelope was monitoring each feed with tears in her eyes.

“All right, mama, any luck triangulating the IP address?”

“No Derek I’m sorry it keeps rerouting to different locations.” Her voice keeps cracking and she’s doing her best not to let her tears drip onto her expensive keyboard.

“That’s okay, just keep working on it.” He grits his jaw

“Derek,” he removes his hand from the hang-up button, “you’re going to get her right? There’s no way this guy gets her.” The hope in voice is palpable

“No way mama you just keep tracking her.” He sighs and spins to the team. Rosie has his eyes on the feed as well as McNamara is hovering over you. You’re strapped to some medical tables with old leather straps.

“Reid please tell me you’ve got something.” Spencer is a wreck. Everyone could tell that he was madly in love with you but he would not make a move. Now someone could strip naked in front of him and it could not break his focus.

“I’ve been staring at this map and going over everything she’s sadi since JJ put this on the screen. I have no idea where she is.” His hair is beyond tousled form the amount of times he’s stressfully run his hands through it

“That’s fine, just keep going.” Morgan demands and joins Hotchner with the deputy

“Hotch, team’s loosing morale. We gotta go back to the drawing board.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Let’s refresh and restart the profile.” they get some shitty police precints coffe and some stale donuts to try to revamp their energy. They join Emily and JJ at a table and ask JJ to get David. She disapears and Rossi takes her place rubbing his eyes.

“Dave, we’re going to look at this iwht fresh eyes. Coopers has gone off the reailsand taken in an FBI agent. That’s an escalation from prostitutes and drug addicts.” Morgan reflects on when you disapeared. You were canvasings where he had picked up his last three victims. You were being your usual sunny self. giving patience to the angry locals and offering water or snacks as a subtle bribery. He turned his back for five seconds when you disapeared. He was feeling the brunt of the guilt and it was manifesting as him acting like an overly abusive boss.

“Alright, on all of the victims there was several injections in their back thigh, but toxicology was clean.” Emily looks over some of the reports.

“Did you say the back of the thigh?” Reids suddenly comes storming into the meeting room

“Yeah, why?” Morgans eyes are begging for answers

“That spot reminds me of something. Often times when a psych ward patient is acting out they will inject them with certain medications. The most common sedtive is Midazolam but most of them are comprized of natural hormones. If you inject the body with enough adrenaline they would pass out.”

“Which would explain that why it doesn’t show up on toxicolgy.” Emily concludes. Reid bounds over to the phone and calls Garcia, she picks up almost immediately

“What is it my birds of prey?”

“We need you to look into asylums and sanitariums nearby. Look for medical malpractice or lawsuits that slipped through via non compus mentus. look into owners of these hospitals that may have some allegations specifically of sexual nature.” he demands

“Anything, find my girl.” she clicks away looking through all the yucky of the nearby hospitals. They were in the middle of the midwest where everyone had secrets.

“They’re going to need a private space to inflict a much torutre without raiing suspicion.” Hotch adds

“Guys you need to get in here!” JJ calls from the computer room. The man was livestreaming you leaning over your head and heavily breathing on your face.

“Oh, you want me so bad.” He used a sultry tease but you looked disgusted. You were staring hard in his eyes. You had dirt and a bit of blood smeared on your face and your normally slicked bun had been tugged apart.

“Tell me, Ms. ‘FBI agent’,” he finger quotes and uses a mocking tone “What your name.”

“You have my badge Cooper McNamara, you know my name.” your gaze hardens more and it looks like you could spit in his face, “Tell me where we are.” you order. If you could get out you would have beat that man to a pulp but your wrists, ankles, waist and chest were bound.

“Unh unh unh, don’t get too cocky, Ms. FBI we both know who has the power here.”

“He’s a narcisist. He’s flexing his muscles on (Y/n). He wants his viewers to know that he’s strong enough to take down an FBI agent.”

“It’s more like he’s preening his feathers.” Emily offers

“Alright, my fabulous frenulum I’ve got three asylums with icky enough histories to raise suspicion in the 50 mile radius.”

“50 miles that seems extraneous.” JJ sighs

“I figured becuase this is the midwest there’s more ground to cover alos they’re not going to keep your cuckoos in the town square.” The Deputy nods in approval

“But that’s too vague so I cross referenced that with the nme Cooper McNamara and zilch. I went thorugh med school flunkies in the known area. I kept running the name and there are zip

Cooper McNamaras in this area. So I just used the last name Mcnanara and there was a doctor named Charles Mcnamara with a son named Jeffrey was in and out of juvie at the age of seventten for attempted sexual assault.”

“What’s his current adress We’ll send a team.” Reid declares

“That’s not your call,” Derek orders, “But yes, Hotch, Prentiss, you go to his house and see if there any clues as to which hospital he’s affiliated with.”

‘Cooper’ was hovering over you this time dragging a swiss armry knife slowly over your shirt

“Alright I’m going to do some bad things Ms, Agent and you’re going to be a good girl.” He’s straddling the chair and he laughs a little at you. Quickly he slices the blade across your shirt and it comes undone with the blade. Your bra is exposed as well some of your navel. The team can clearly see the red cut across your chest.

“Oh my god what is that slimeball doing to my girl.” Garcia whimpers

“Garcia she’s fine, continue your background search of the McNamara family.” Hotch reassures

mostly to himself

“So far I’ve got some ick-ick icky dirt on Charles. He had to his medical liscene in pschiatry suspened 17 years ago, when his son, Jeffrey was around ten years old.”

“Why was it suspended?”

“Medical malpractice and the excessive use of electro-shock therapy.”

“the use of ETC is almost never necesarry in fact it dos more damage than it helps.” Reid borws are in a constant furrow. Theyre drawn out of their brainstorm a ‘Cooper’ shreds the rest of your shirt open.

“I’ll hand it you,” He reaches for the cup of your bra, “you have have some tits officer.” you grunt out a ‘fuck you’ as he fondles you.

“Maybe I just will,” He sneers. He makes the fatal mistake of looking at the cameria kense and you follow his eyeline. You spot the lense and by memory locate the six others. You feel some internal relief that at least the team knows you’re alive and they’re watching you.

“you get off on rewatching this or are we live? Or maybe you’re recording?”

“Oh someones mouthy.”

“I’m just bored.” You taunt

“What is she doing?” JJ Panics

“She’s getting him to talk. Shes profiling him. She’s our profiler.” David smiles and the team too feels your humanity return. You’re not a victim. Not yet at least. You’re still their wisecracking little sunray.

“You bitch, I’ll shut you up.” He reaches for his belt and launches at you. Your first instict wa to bare your teeth shut so he can’t slip something in your mouth. Your mouth is shut tight and he relaxes.

“Good choice.” he snorts

“He doesn’t want to hurt her.” David notices “She’s way too powerful for his comfort. He knows she’s smart.”

“If he’s able to get his website to continue rerouting we should probably verify that Jeffrey McNamara has some sort of tech background” Reid metions and Garcia digs into Jeffrey’s background it shows that 5 years ago he flunked out of the local community college with a major in computer science. Finally, the IP adress lags on the same three cell towers for the fourth time and Penelope Verifies that there are two sanitariums in that radius.

“Alright there is St, Joan of Arc’s Penitentiary and Whitfeilder and Collins Mental Institution.” Garcia clicks away.

“Garcia isn’t there a church nearby-“

“St. Joan of Arc’s Holy Parish.” She cuts off getting a small burst of hope

“Alright cross reference that with our boys see if we could get any dirt.” Rossi orders as you stare this torturous serial killer in the eye

“I think my knife and I should have some fun with you, pig. Are your gonna squee for your boss.?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.” Everyone freezes

“What’s she doing?” JJ begs

“What do you mean?”

“I was only asking locals if there was something they needed. I work in the low income control division of the FBI. I was on a routine check of the neighborhood to makme sure that some new medications that were sent out in the local clinic.”

“Oh so you’re one of those libtards who thinks junkiw should get freebies?” your eyes dart quickly to the blinking red light while he inspects the red tool. He flicks his swiss army knife back open and runs it tantalizingly down your chest, “Oh no tears agent? Usually they start crying by now. Don’t worry you’ll cry soon.” He sinks the blade in right by your ribs. You grit your teeth as warm blood spills down your side.

“What’s she doing? why would she egg him on?” JJ starts to break

“She’s giving us the element of surprise.” David sighs in relief

“Oooh someones a tough girl.” He teases. He slides his blade across your stomach and your muscles tense below the blade. Tears pool in your tear ducts against your wishes and a grin splits his face like the cheshire cat.

“There you go. don’t worry it’ll all be over soon.” He fakes a soothing voice

“Ding ding ding, Ive got a hit. There was an latar boy who plead secial assault twenty years ago at St. Joan of Arcs and I mangaed to dig through the St Joan Hospital emplyment record to find one Dr. Charles McNamara employed for over thrity years where he specialized in child psychology.” Garcia gulps, “He spent a weekend in jail for assaulting the preist who allegedy molested his son, Jeff. Afterwards he deovolded. He started drinking lots of alcohol and expirementing with electro shock therapy. After three years of nearly fatal expirements He lost his liscense after a one Suzanne ’Suzie’ Addams passed due to exhaustion in his office.”

Rossi’s hand held rings and he answers the phone for Hotch

“Well Dave it’s not looking good here. There’s news paper clippings with every know victim taped to his wall. Theres even some miscellanoes crime pannels logging there recent spike in missing persons cases. There’s very little furntiure at his house. He’s got bills stacked up on his counter. He’s a walking cry for help.”

“Alright any other pysical evidence? We’re going to send a team to St. Joan of Arcs Penitentiary that’s where we suspect he has (Y/n). You keep digging around and we’ll stay in touch.”

Derek orders JJ, and Reid to suit up and gather the officers. Reid already has his hand reaching for his bulletproof vest. “Rossi I want you to stay behind on the line with Garcia and Prentiss in case he escalates the torture. Due to the agrarian location of the hospital they dispatch forest rangers to canvas the woodlands. The sanitarium had been closed for upwards of five years. Reid get’s the drivers seat and starts the car before Derek can get out the door.

“Slow down man we got visuals on her.”

“One of our best Agents is in danger and we have a location. Why wouldn’t we race off to her?” He slams his palm on the drivers wheel.

“Alright well calm down man,” As he tries to soothe hsi phone rings

“He’s back Derek.” Rossi states plainly sending the link to his phone. And impressive feat for the old man, Morgan gets in hte dirvers seat and clicks the link to see the man sitting on your lap palming himself.

“You know you’re kinda pretty for a pig.” He leans forward and hold your jaw and you gnash against his hold, “Oh oh oh let’s not get violent now.” you bite his hand and he draws it back immediately, “You bitch!” he slaps you and you gasp but he quickly undoes his buckle and reaches for the fly of his jeans. He slides the leather out of the denim loopholes and folds it once and puts it in your mouth. He reaches in his pants and you thrash against your holds.

Jeffrey fishes himself out and you slam your head against the medical table. Your time your cheek and grit your jaw but he forcefully pull you square with him. The look of indigence could’ve killed several monarchies and Rossi takes a note not to piss you off as not to receive that glare. Derek puts the screen down and grits his jaw. theres a bit of gagging before the man rears backs

“You bitch! You bit me?” He screams like you betrayed him and he punches you so hard your nose starts bleeding. Tears slip out of your eyes but you don’t dare sob. He leaves the view of the camera and the team hears metal crashing around the sounds cords being plugged in. He curses and punches what sounds like a metal box. He comes back with two metal probes and a menacing smile.

“You’re gonna get it now. You know what these are?” He waves them around like they’re toys “these are the electrodes I’m going to use on you.” Reid floors it as he hears the button click on and a distant buzzing sound fills the film.

“Here,” he violently pulls his belt from his jeans, “wouldn’t want you to shatter those pearly whites.” This is the one command you will obey. You take the folded material between your teeth because if you do survive this you’d rather not waste your vacation bonus on orthodontics. And if you didn’t you at least would like to have a nice smile in the after life.

Morgan and Reid peel out of the town sirens ablazing. They try not concentrate on it as you scream around the hunk of brown leather between your teeth. Not matter how much he concentrates on the road ahead of him he count every bawl you let escape. Every time he makes a mental note. As he takes the exit that lead to the woods he sighs, seven. He pictures your sun shiny smile in the morning.

How you would skip over to his desk with an extra-sweet cup of coffee and a good joke you had heard on your weekend away to New York. Eight, he thought of how intently you had listened to him ramble about string theory on the plane ride over and how when he stopped himself to apologize you begged him to keep going.

Nine, when the case came around the table your eyes darkened with a bit of sorrow which was drowned by your hope and determination to crack it. Now you were ten, letting him practice brewing your hair in a motel just because the skill fascinated him. Man your hair was so soft and smelled to good. And you just melted under his hands as he apprehensively finger combed it.

The sanitarium is in the middle of the woods. A small commercial concrete building. There officers confirmed that there was a car out back and garcia checked the plate regitration was for a Charles Mcnamara. They quietly burst through the front doors which were ajar. Spencer lead the charge follwoing the sounds of your pained screams. He runs down a flight of staris and kicks it open. Despite his panic for his coworker Morgan was incredibly proud of Reid for kicking it open.

McNamara is straddled over you and he swings his head to see Reid. Before anything can happen Spencer shoots him in the knee and Morgan barks an order and jumps on the man. Reid bolsters his gun and darts over to you. You look a mess. Blood and possibly some other body substances on you. He slides the belt out of your mouth and you lick your lips. He sits by your side and undoes the buckles on your wrists

“Hi (Y/n),” He sighs soothingly. Your eyes are locked on his and there’s something animalistic and wounded in them.

“Spencer?” your voice is broken but there is so much hope

“Yeah I’m here,” He works the second buckle off your wrist. “You did so good.” he reassures. He undoes the strap across your chest and you sit up and rub your wrists. He takes a step back to unshackle your ankles. Once you’re free, you swing yor legs to the side of the medical chair. Spencer stands next to you and guides your arms arond his neck. You sink all your weight against his chest and he gently coaxes an arm under your knees and picks you up.

“I did good?” You start sobbing into his chest

“Yeah you did fantastic (Y/n). and your safe now, I’ve got you.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #torture #angst with a happy ending

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warrior-cats-rewritten · 5 months

Note

sorry to spam you, but. what happens with scourge in your rewrite? he’s my favorite <3

Please, don't ever apologize for sending lots of asks! I love answering them and they can help me think of things I hadn't thought about before, or flesh an arc out. Send as many as you want, all of you!

Anyways, Scourge, the literal scourge of my brain, because I've had to rewrite him 3 different times.

This little guy has been reworked SO much. The first was to tell the story of a downfall, how sometimes people become worse than the people who hurt them, and pay for it, but showing that there was still 'Tiny' in there, having The Rise Of Scourge end with his spirit, now back to being Tiny, reuniting with Quince, while his older self faded away.

I... Hated the vibe. And I'm probably gonna save THAT kind of ending for someone else...

I then changed it to be somewhat more like Better Bones, but with Scourge remaining leader of Bloodclan.... But that also doesn't line up with the themes of Graystripe's Clan and Ravenpaw's Path, where Fury and Neo Bloodclan come into play.

I didn't wanna kill him. I didn't want him to join Thunderclan. I didn't want him to stay in Bloodclan....

Then, it hit me.

So... Meet the new Scourge. He can say the F word.

Scourge

His story is one about coming back from the brink of no return.

Firestar has noticed something about Scourge. The fur around his neck has rubbed off, his voice is brittle, swallowing is so difficult that he drools a bit, his breathing is shallow, and he's... Painfully underweight. Now, aside from the terrifying thought that is "how strong would this guy be if he WAS properly nourished?", he realizes that even if Scourge manages to make it through this battle, he will most likely not make it to next season.

In a flash, Firestar leaps onto Scourge's back, and sinks his teeth into his scruff and collar. Just like his new deputy Longtail did to him, he begins to pull, hoping and praying that Starclan will grant another miracle.

The collar snaps, just as Scourge is about to pass out, he takes in his first deep breath in ages. Firestar pays for it with his first life.

Swiftpaw, now posthumously named Swiftclaw, is chosen as his first life to lose. He feels the pain and terror and rage and desperation that Swiftclaw did, but he also puts pieces together. Why did this happen? The real why. Not just the dogs getting a taste for cat. Not Tigerstar's seemingly unending thirst for power. Before all that.

This problem is the fault of the Clans. Churning out radicalized youths who will hurt others because of the instilled belief that Might Makes Right. Sure, Scourge has taken things too far, and seems hellbent on revenge, but the seeds of this bloody battle were planted on Clan Land.

Blackfoot, Brokenstar, Leopardstar, Mistfang, Darkstripe, Longtail, even Crookedstar and Nightstar have all fallen victim to this belief at one point of another. Tigerstar was not made in a vacuum. This kind of "kill or be killed" mentality is not making the Clans strong, it is getting cats killed.

He sees another vision of himself fighting Scourge, killing him. But his sight flickers, and it makes him sick. Scourge's build is so much like Princess. His eyes the same shade of blue that Cloudtail has. He sees his own loved ones in the one he is fighting. He is sinking his teeth and claws into his own Kin.

And then, finally, he sees the vision of Tigerpaw being goaded by Thistleclaw to beat Tiny. Then Thistlepaw being rewarded by Adderfang for sparring with a Riverclan apprentice and tearing their ear. Adderfang charging into battle alongside his father, too eager to take a life from Heatherstar Heatherstep. Tigerclaw berating Darkpaw for failing a training exercise. Darkstripe getting his new apprentice Longpaw to eat prey instead of giving it to the sick elder... The vision ending with Longtail touching noses with the newly named Swiftpaw, a line of cats behind him so long it stretches into the shadows, endless kittens behind Swiftpaw, a mentorship doomed before it even began. Generations of cats hurting each other with no end in sight.

Enough is enough.

When he comes back to life, he slams against Scourge, dodging his attack again, and looking around to confirm his worst fears. All of Bloodclan's cats are fully grown. The Clans have brought apprentices. This victory is for the future, to Save The Clans as Fire Alone.

He slams Scourge against the ground, and knocks him out. However, Rooster, a Bloodclan cat, cries out that Scourge has been killed. To be fair to Rooster, Scourge is laying limp at the feet of Lionclan's leader.

While many Bloodclan cats scurry away, some to one day become Neo Bloodclan, Firestar taps the ground to call attention to Snowpaw, using a bit of Body Speaking to silently tell the deaf apprentice to sneak Scourge to camp, grabbing Scourge's torn collar and hiding it for later.

Bloodclan negotiations begin with the cats who stay and will later be seen in Graystripe's Clan.

Meanwhile, Snowpaw drags Scourge through the woods and sneaks him into Cinderpelt's den, scaring Cinderpelt half to death. She begins to treat Scourge, removing the enforced claw tips and gathering some food for him to eat without getting sick from the influx of sudden nutrition. Snowpaw is so friendly that he manages to become friends with Scourge while he is slowly recovering, hidden in the back of Cinderpelt's den and slowly putting on some weight as he eats with his friend while getting more comfortable with others. None of this would have happened if Snowkit had been taken by that hawk...

Eventually, he is healthy enough to groom himself properly and walk around. But... What now? Can he stay in Thunderclan? Would that be a safe option for him? Firestar is still teaching cats to unlearn their biases, and Scourge may be subject to suspicion and discrimination, which isn't fair to him.

Firestar talks with Princess, and the answer is clear.

His housefolk are not home now, haven't been in a week, but... Smudge is pretty lonely. Rusty left a bit of a hole there, he could use a good friend.

Scourge is brought to Smudge's home in the dark of the night, collar in his teeth, and welcomed inside. His collar tag reads 'Tiny' but with no phone number or microchip, Smudge's people take him in as their own, and Smudge isn't so lonely anymore.

Firestar left housecat life to be wild, proving himself with a broken collar, and Scourge is leaving wild life to be a housecat once more, saving himself with a broken collar.

He is seen during Firestar's Quest, slightly chubby and full of energy, and I might have him go on the Quest with them to round out the party. The important thing is, he is happy.

Princess's Short Story, currently unnamed, is about her passing, visiting her old friends and family as a spirit. She finds Scourge's spirit, along with Quince, Socks, and Smoke, enjoying a peaceful afterlife together.

He is allowed a place in Starclan and Sky-Starclan, and will reappear during Beyond The Stars as a supporting cast member.

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direwombat · 1 year

Text

hang on hang on i’m having a big brain moment over here about syb's rabbit/hare symbolism and those little critters as beasts that destroy gardens

#im gonna dig up and chew on someone else's carrots and strawberries #she's a christ figure. she's the devil. she's a prey animal. she's death to the garden of eden.#oc: deputy sybille la roux #whining wombat

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quiverpaw · 9 months

Text

things i’d like to see more frequently in the wcue roleplay scene: (long post)

-sharing tongues (cats gossip in wcue like no other. but they don’t actually share tongues! this includes sharing tongues with a cat before they are buried.)

-vigils apon becoming a warrior (this is NEVER done. it’d bring a new air to the roleplay, i think!)

-elders burying cats. (usually the leader, medicine cat, or a random warrior will do in rp.)

-elders and queens in general. this includes den dads and early retired cats!

-apprentices travelling to the moonstone with the leader. (this used to happen in the early arcs. since most wcue players are only knowledgable on these arcs, this would be a great thing to pick up on doing)

-proper battle training, battles in general. (most apprentices either never recieve a mentor or only go on the occasional hunting or border patrol. battle sparring never actually includes learning new techniques most of the time!) (battles straight up do not happen. skirmishes do. Usually with rogues!)

-a more even spread of cats. Usually most of the server will flock to one clan (80%), 15% will become rogues or loners, and 5% are either non-cats or kittypets.) with the addition of more clans comes more interesting conflicts! (taking territory, battles, gatherings, tresspassers, forbidden love.) ideally in a 60 people server, there’d be 12-15 cats in each clan, or in a two-clan server, 20-30, with the rest going to outsiders/non-cats.)

-more time for deputies and leaders. A deputy in wcue is far more important than the leader in almost every way, which is NOT a good thing. a deputy should be able to appoint patrols, be able to join said patrols, and still have time to talk before they have to sleep. the leader usually has to officiate ceremonies and talk about allowing in outsiders, as well as recieve reports. leaders should be able to join patrols as well.

-apprentice’s assessments. this is, in my opinion, the least utilized aspect for app players. when a cat reaches close to warrior’s age (in wcue, this is 12 moons), the leader (or deputy) talks with the app’s mentor and haves said apprentice go on a solo hunting mission. if they bring back enouh prey, they’re granted their warrior name. usually the deputy or leader also conducts regular normal assessments to check the progress of the young cats.

-more diverse personality types. in wcue, there generally are only six personality types: charming, ‘evil’, quiet, aggressive/rude, kind, and nervous. most cats don’t go into depth beyond these core traits, and i think it would be really nice to see a more diverse cast of personalities. there’s plenty of generators online for personality types if needed!

-medicine cat apprentice appointments. just straight up- this does not happen. they have their own special moonstone ceremony! why wouldn’t you utilize that? and on second note:

-medicine cat gatherings. also straight up do not happen.

general parts of fandom changes i want to see

-the stop of use of names like ‘blindkit’ or ‘lostsight’. this is pretty obvious.

-not using overly complicated words to seem experienced! this is a big one. part of the exp/luna debate, many players like to have over-complicated names, use words people straight up don’t know, anything of the like to seem sophisticated. warriors itself does not use words like orbits or cranium. stop

-stop the hate around younger players. generally, in wcue, there’s a INSANE, and i mean INSANE hate for younger players. given a cruel nickname like ‘luna’ because it’s a common name for young kids to use, people make fun of little kids who are just learning about roleplaying. how is a kid supposed to become experienced if you’re just being cruel. instead, the least you can do is void them, or at least teach them a thing or two.

-less apprentice groups. (this is a bit nitpicky) these usually only exist because people find teenage drama interesting, but apprentice groups are pure terrors to the rp scene. they usually don’t take a mentor, refrain from training- only hunting occasionally, and are very unaware of the ongoings of the rest of the clan because of their personal interdrama. these groups will flock in around 7-10 apprentices, which insanely disrupts a clan’s balance. a apprentice friend group should be a natural thing- one that occurs from training or patrolling together, not sitting and camp and crushing on each other.

(also nitpicky) -less magic schools. i know you’re trying to roleplay harry potter. stop. don’t do that

-roblox groups dedicated to organized rps! many people don’t have discord- it’d be more accessible to younger people as well.

#wcue #warrior cats ultimate edition #hi guys. does nayone want to make a shadowclan rp with me

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nettleclanstale · 12 days

Text

Moon 94.5

Moon 94.5- Gathering

Spiderstar swished his tail along the wood of the High Oak, watching intently as Birchstar, along with a sizable amount of OakClan cats, made their way into the Gathering Space. The crunching of snow beneath the cats' paws was one of the only sounds heard as they took their seats in the darkened hollow, Birchstar hopping onto the low branch the others sat upon with a sheepish look on his face.

"It's about time you all got here!" Spiderstar joked, smiling.

"We got lost," The young tom explained, giving his chest fur a few licks of embarrassment. Leaning forward slightly to look just beyond Spiderstar, Birchstar's eyes narrowed. "Sappatch? What are you doing up here? Where's Brokenstar?"

"He's expecting. He's not doing well, and he didn't want to come." Sappatch, QuailClan's medicine cat, meowed in reply. The white tom turned his head towards Birchstar's voice, and Spiderstar felt himself shift back slightly. Although Sappatch couldn't see him, he still didn't wish to feel his gaze.

"And what about Cleardawn?" Birchstar questioned, tilting his head slightly.

"Mangled tail."

"Oh."

"Anyway!" Spiderstar cut the two off, chuckling nervously. "I believe it's time to begin. Would either of you like to begin?"

Silence. A gentle yet cold breeze blew through the air, making Spiderstar and a few other cats shiver.

"Very well," The brown tabby meowed, letting out a heavy exhale before speaking again. "NettleClan has had...Rough times lately. We're still recovering from the flood that took away so many of our clanmates. While prey has been easier to find, we're still working on rebuilding our camp."

For a moment, Spiderstar paused, taking a moment to look at the gathered cats. Beneath him, an OakClan apprentice looked visibly distraught by the mention of the flood. After a few seconds passed, he continued to speak. "Additionally, we've lost a couple of clanmates this moon. Our beloved Sandystream, along with her son Willowkit, passed away from kitting complications and passed on to StarClan. We will miss them dearly, and we hope they're able to find easy hunting and rest in peace."

Cats lowered their heads, ears flattened as they silently paid tribute to the fallen cats. Sappatch let out a soft hum, shaking his head.

"It's always sad when cats pass on from these things, especially when it takes the lives of kits as well." He murmured. "QuailClan offers condolences."

"And so does OakClan." Birchstar stated, nervously shifting his paws.

Spiderstar nodded. "I thank you both," He meowed. "Now...As for some good news. Our lovely apprentice, Hoppaw, has earned her warrior name. I ask that we give our congratulations to Hopstreak!"

"Hopstreak! Hopstreak! Hopstreak!" Cats chanted, while the golden and brown tortoiseshell puffed out her chest, an expression of pride on her face.

"One final thing." Spiderstar's whiskers twitched. "Despite the loss of Willowkit I am happy to announce that his littermate, his sister Baykit, is thriving and doing just fine. I am also happy to announce that Crowheart is our deputy."

Murmurs of relief spread through the crowd, smiles forming on the faces of the cats. Spiderstar dipped his head.

"That is all." He said, casting glances at both Sappatch and Birchstar. "Go on."

Birchstar cast his gaze to the ground, wrapping his tail around his paws. Sappatch stepped forward, his blind yellow gaze fixed on the crowd.

"I suppose I'll go next. I can tell we're all getting cold and I don't want our whiskers and tails falling off on the way back home!" He joked, earning chuckles and amused purrs from the clan members below.

"Anyway...Other than Cleardawn's mangled tail, our clan is thriving!" Sappatch purred, beaming. "Our beloved leader Brokenstar is expecting his first litter with his mate Auburnstripe. We're hoping that the pregnancy goes smoothly."

Spiderstar watched as Sappatch paused, watching the way his ears perked. Despite not being a leader, the tom's handsome, authoritative demeanor made all cats fall silent and Spiderstar's own pelt flush with warmth, only for a moment before he shook it away with a shiver.

After clearing his throat, Sappatch continued. "We have a few ceremonies to celebrate as well! Thymepetal has happily retired to the elder's den, and Saplingthicket has settled into her duties as our third full-time mediator."

"THREE mediators!?" A voice from the crowd exclaimed. Spiderstar wanted to melt into the ground when he realized it was one of his own warriors.

Of course, it was Hickory. The brown and white she-cat's tail twitched as multiple cats turned their heads to glare at her.

"What!? What kinds of problems is QuailClan having for them to need THREE mediators??" She huffed, stomping a front paw.

"That's��enough, Hickory." Spiderstar said, teeth gritted and fur bristled. His body burned with embarrassment.

Hickory fell silent, and Sappatch rolled his eyes before continuing.

"Thank you for your imput, NettleClan cat. I don't know what I would do without your words." He grumbled. "Anyway. We also have three new warriors. Fernspeck, Turtlehoney, and Bushclover."

The cats began to chant for the newly named cats, and Spiderstar suppressed a chuckle as one of the younger cats, a brown and white tom, nervously averted his gaze.

"Anyway. With great news comes great loss as well. Most of you know of our former deputy, Vinetuft." Sappatch sighed, lowering his head as his ears pinned against his head. "I regret to inform you all that Vinetuft has passed on after a horrible case of greencough took his life. We mourn him, and can only hope that he crossed over to StarClan's hunting grounds easily."

Shocked gasps, followed by saddened murmuring swept across the cats. Sappatch remained quiet for a moment, listening, before lifting his tail to demand attention. Once it was silent again, he dipped his head and turned to join the other medicine cats at the bottom of the High Oak.

"That is all. Now Birchstar will speak, and after a moment to speak with your friends, we will conclude this gathering." He said, before jumping down to the base of the tree and taking a seat beside Shimmerflare, OakClan's medicine cat. Spiderstar noticed that the gray tom looked more frail than usual, age starting to catch up with him.

An awkward, tense silence filled the air as Birchstar stood there, as if not entirely sure what he was supposed to say despite all these moons of attending Gatherings. Somewhere in the crowd, someone sneezed, and a couple of cats said "bless you" before going silent again.

"Um...Hi." The golden-brown tom finally meowed. "Okay, let's see...So far, OakClan is thriving. We have a new warrior! Lightwhistle has earned his warrior name! We also have a few new apprentices. Boragepaw, Valleypaw, Marshpaw, and Bristlepaw are warrior apprentices, while Marigoldpaw decided that he would like to be a medicine cat!"

Spiderstar's gaze swept over the hollow as cats began to cheer. His eyes finally settled on Sunsong, who he noticed had visibly tensed when the name Valleypaw was mentioned.

Fox-dung, He thought to himself, curling his tail around his paws and sitting up straighter. I had hoped that bringing her to the gathering would make her feel a little better...

"Anyway, not much else has happened. I guess that's it-"

"Wait."

A white she-cat with a dark ginger tail stalked to the front of the crowd. Judging by her stocky body, she was a QuailClan cat. She glared up at Birchstar, her silver eyes narrowed.

Another QuailClan cat, this one a white she-cat with light brown patches, groaned. "Oh, Auburnstripe, don't start-"

"No. No, Heronheart, I have to 'start'." Auburnstripe growled, her expression challenging as she turned her attention back to Birchstar. "Birchstar, with all the respect you deserve, I caught one of your apprentices hunting on our territory. Do you realize it's the middle of Leaf-bare!? Prey is scarce and you're so lucky we didn't kill your mouse-brained apprentice for trespassing."

Birchstar stuttered in reply, while Spiderstar stepped forward in his defense. "Auburnstripe, it's bad enough that you were disrespectful enough to speak out of turn, but please have some respect when speaking to a clan leader."

"What did you expect?" Morningsong strode forward, raising his tail and smirking at Auburnstripe. "It's QuailClan. They're just as disrespectful and awful as ever!"

A loud growl came from Auburnstripe as she unsheathed her claws and lunged herself at Morningsong. The light brown tabby tom, still very young, was too slow to react. Exclamations and wails came from every clan member as Auburnstripe bit down hard on Morningsong's throat, a horrid crunch heard as his eyes glazed over. Somewhere in the crowd, Spiderstar would hear Badgerfall wail in despair as her son slumped onto the ground, still. Blood pooled from the bite wound in his throat.

Heronheart shot forward, pushing Auburnstripe out of the way and holding her clanmate down as the medicine cats rushed forward to tend to Morningsong. Auburnstripe's white fur now had crimson running down her muzzle and chest, her eyes filled with pure fury and satisfaction as she stared down at Morningsong.

"This gathering is OVER." Shimmerflare yowled, turning his head to Bitter and Twigsplash. "He's still breathing- Hurry up and take him back to camp!"

As cats began to retreat as fast as they could, Spiderstar watched as Minnowleap approached Sappatch with a hiss.

"Don't think what your warrior did will be forgiven!!" The young tom exclaimed, lashing his tail. "You're lucky we haven't called for war because of that!"

Sappatch lashed his tail, and Spiderstar's heart sank as what he said next made all of The Gathering go silent, cats freezing in their tracks.

"Very well," Sappatch hissed, his voice horrifyingly calm as he spoke. "When we get back, I'll let Brokenstar know that we have officially declared war on NettleClan. This gathering is now officially dismissed."

End.

QuailClan and NettleClan are now at war.

#big oof #clangen #warrior cats #wc oc #moon update #Written moon #cw violence #cw blood mention #oakclan #Quailclan #Gathering Moon #Spiderstar #Birchstar #Sappatch #Auburnstripe #morningsong #I'm not tagging every single character that spoke or was mentioned lmfao

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namenotfound0 · 17 days

Text

My take on the new Warriors arc (Changing Skies)

Skyclan:

- Skyclan will start starving and start fighting amongst themselves

- Leafstar will become fully blind

- Leafstar will die

- Hawkwing becomes Hawkstar

- A Cool new deputy will be appointed in Skyclan (Violetshine isn't the coolest but she could maybe get more development post-Rootspring)

- Skyclan will finally get good (hoping Frecklewish becomes interesting again)

Shadowclan:

- Tawnypelt will defy Tigerheartstar and probably say something about morals being more important than Clan loyalty (echoing when she left Thunderclan)

- Tigerheartstar will lose a life to the Big Bad (probably some twoleg problem or another - ex. fire, tree falls)

- Tawnypelt will sacrifice herself

Thunderclan:

- Moonpaw will be training as a warrior

- She'll start hearing things and confide in Jayfeather, Alderheart, or her mentor

- Moonpaw will visit Starclan

- Someone will tell her that she's ~destined~

Riverclan:

- Riverclan will be trying to repair itself and will stay out of the drama

Windclan:

- Crowstar will happen at some point in this arc

- Breezepelt or Appleshine are likely deputy picks

Main plot:

(Not entirely specific timeline order, but I'll try)

- The Prophecy about the Moonpool is delivered by Shadowsight, worrying Tawnypelt

- The twolegs start construction and drive Skyclan to a great hunger and threatens to block the entrance to the Moonpool

- The Skyclan cats are divided, with some not trusting Leafstar's leadership as her vision - and sickness - gets worse

- Tawnypelt feels undervalued in her clan

- Moonpaw starts hearing voices

- Skyclan cats start hunting on Shadowclan territory behind Leafstar's back

- A gathering takes place, where Tigerheartstar accuses Leafstar of being incompetent, and Moonpaw collapses from "visions"

- Shadowsight either decides to mentor Moonpaw or says her "visions" are dangerous and she is not to be trusted

- Tigerheartstar turns the other Clans away

- Tawnypelt tries to convince him to take action with the other Clans, but he refuses

- Tawnypelt ventures to rally support from the other clans

- Squirrelstar is too new to leadership to lend a paw, Riverclan is still trying to get itself together, and Skyclan is a mess

- Crowfeather steps up for Tawnypelt, admiring her courage and determination

- The medicine cats, especially Jayfeather, Whistlepaw, and Frostpaw, will be uneasy after a long time without any visions or anything

- Moonpaw's "visions" get darker, hinting at the destruction of all the Clans and the fading of all of Starclan

- Leafstar joins Crowfeather and Tawnypelt on their mission, while Moonpaw separately seeks Starclan's guidance at the Moonpool

- Moonpaw gets trapped inside the cave with the Moonpool after a rockslide caused by twoleg construction, and she falls into the Moonpool

- Crowfeather, Tawnypelt, and Leafstar watch the rockslide and are fearful about the loss of connection

- Tensions rise between the Clans, with Shadowclan having a border dispute with Skyclan, and with Skyclan being left without a leader or any prey

- Moonpaw drowns and arrives in Starclan, where she is greeted by the regular cast (Bluestar, Yellowfang, Firestar), and the original leaders (Thunderstar, Windstar, Shadowstar, Riverstar, and Skystar) as well as Gray Wing

- The Starclan cats inform Moonpaw that the Clans must band together to find a new land once again

- Moonpaw doubts how she could be helpful, and Firestar assures her that she is the one

- Crowfeather and Tawnypelt help Leafstar as her sickness becomes more and more apparent

- Tawnypelt goes to Thunderclan and Crowfeather accompanies Leafstar to Skyclan

- Moonpaw reawakens on the edge of the Moonpool, still trapped but with a message

- Tawnypelt reasons with Squirrelstar and they stop fighting with Shadowclan

- Leafstar finally succumbs to her sickness after uniting Skyclan with Crowfeather's help

- Tawnypelt returns to Shadowclan with Squirrelstar and together they convince Tigerheartstar to work with the other clans

- Moonpaw escapes and finds Thunderclan, Skyclan and Shadowclan sharing territory as the twolegs build

- Hawkwing is unable to receive his nine lives, but acts in place of leader for Skyclan

- Moonpaw convinces the clans to all meet, and shares what she learned in Starclan

- Squirrelstar believes her completely, but Riverclan is hesitant as they just had issues with Starclan

- Crowfeather asks where they should go, and Ivypool steps up and says they should head toward *place* (whatever happens in her Super Edition is almost certain to introduce their next location)

- All the Clans agree when the twolegs get more aggressive with their building, and they head off on the journey

- Moonpaw starts getting visions again, this time of their new home

- Tawnypelt and Harestar both die protecting the Clans

- Crowfeather assumes the position as leader of Windclan, though unable to receive his nine lives

- Rootspring and/or Tree see the ghosts of Tawnypelt and Harestar at night before they jump up and join Silverpelt

- They arrive at the new territories and Moonpaw becomes a ghost cat (like Rock, so not dead-dead) and turns into the new connection to Starclan (Like how Rock is the connection to the Ancients and Stoneteller is the connection to the Tribe of Endless Hunting)

Now I know the Erin's would never kill all three protagonists in an arc, but this is the only way I see the books getting fresh new plot points while also keeping with everything they've announced. Plus, Tawnypelt is super old, Crowstar has been a long time coming, and Leafstar is not only widely hated but literally stated to be facing some sort of challenge with her vision. I think it's only logical that these three would die to make room for a new roster of interesting protagonists. As for Moonpaw... I don't like that she can be named "Moon"paw and have visions and have there also be a conflict with the Moonpool. Like, they could have called her ANYTHING else.. but they went with "Moon". I think it would be super interesting if she became a sort of immortal figurehead for Starclan. In all honesty, I'm not sure how this would work, but I think it would be super cool. Maybe she gets a Starclan form and can travel between the worlds? But only sparsely and she can only be seen by Tree and Rootspring + giving medicine cats visions & omens.

This was just a fun thought experiment for me - don't take anything I said too seriously, I just love to theorize (if you also like My Little Pony and want to read my theory of how Gen 4 and Gen 5 connect, I have a post on that here)

#wc #warrior cats #changing skies #warrior cats changing skies #tawnypelt #crowfeather #leafstar #moonpaw #starclan #warrior cats theory #wc theory #wc tawnypelt #wc crowfeather #wc leafstar #theory

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clanborn · 8 months

Note

are there any slight differences in religious beliefs between the clans? obviously each one worships their own deity and whatnot, but what about, say, sighting one of those animals? would one clan deem seeing their god in the wild as a blessing or a bad omen? is interacting with that patron a good or a bad thing depending on the clan? what about finding a different clans patron, are they treated the same as their own clans patron, or are they less respected?

Though the clans differ in their patron gods, they all still believe in the collective pantheon with equal reverence, with an exception for The Lynx, which is considered a Main Deity of sorts. Each god holds similar meaning for each clan, and their tracks and sightings would represent similar omens for all of them. For example, for all clans bear tracks generally serve as a sign of a coming change, or lynx tracks as a death omen.

Along with this, the clans’ relationships with their deities are sort of…complicated. Even though they worship these creatures and treat them with respect and veneration, there’s also a sort of underlying fear behind their devotion. The creatures they worship are vastly powerful and dangerous, and don’t necessarily see the cats as much more than prey or playthings. The cats’ religion is focused mostly about earning favor with their gods in order to postpone their constant looming demise. One generally accepted rule in clans is to always defer to a god when it approaches. If a lynx approaches you after your successful hunt, your fresh-kill belongs to the lynx now. A common practice is to catch a snowshoe hare and leave it for The Lynx, in order to satiate the deities and ward off misfortune.

Encounters with their gods are usually hostile, and can easily become fatal. Oceanclan’s deputy Orcastreak is famous throughout the clans for having fought a sea lion and survived, a feat that Oceanclan especially was impressed by and contributed to their appointment as deputy. However, some gods may engage in dialogue with a cat—if the god deems a cat worthy, or as a good source of entertainment—though that is extremely rare.

#the patron gods sort of inform the ideology of each clan #but all are worshipped by all clans #so not necessarily differences in religious beliefs but in philosophical ones #ask #drabbles-of-writing #alaska clans

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bonefall · 11 months

Text

Dragonkin Family Tree

[ID: A tall family tree on a minty green background. It starts with Whitefang and Dragonclaw, and goes down for 6 generations. Mates of the family are marked with blue backgrounds.]

It's a total wasted opportunity that the other Clans very rarely struggle with the idea of legacy, a major recurring theme of WC. ThunderClan shouldn't be the only Clan who has anything interesting going on.

SO here's a noteworthy tree for RiverClan! If you want to see the entire RiverClan Family Tree, it's over here. I've also hit several of them with the gib beam-- I will refer to Duckfur with They/Xe exclusively, and Rainstorm and Rushfish are He/They/Xey.

The Dragonkin is a family plagued equally by strength and scandal. In Lake RiverClan, they've produced several of the strongest and most respected warriors, but are also known for producing headstrong codebreakers.

Whitefang and Dragonclaw

In the Broken Era, Dragonclaw was the largest warrior in RiverClan, and among the strongest.

But as an apprentice, Dragonpaw was terrified of water. There was doubt that she would be able to stay in the Clan, after all, she was the child of a prey-stealing rogue who had been found drowned.

She didn't have RiverClan blood, and what use did they have for a roguekit who couldn't swim?

Whitepaw spent all his time with her, helping her overcome that fear, despite only being an apprentice himself. That was how they came to fall in love with each other.

Later, when his niece Leopardkit revealed herself to be afraid of water, Whitefang was put on the case to build her into the ferocious warrior she could be.

Whitefang died while his kits were still apprentices, and Dragonclaw died while trying to drive out WindClan a second time.

Duckfur and Greenflower

Greenflower was hotheaded and passionate, jumping to conclusions and ferociously sticking to them.

Duckfur was more practical... and opportunist. More interested in how swaying power could benefit them.

Sedgecreek was attracted to Greenflower for her passion and confidence. It would also be the reason they fell apart.

When TigerClan rose to power, Greenflower was an immediate supporter. She voided the Queen's Rights, revealing that Duckfur had honor sired the kittens Sedgecreek had given birth to.

Sedgecreek at first believed this was an effort to keep the family safe. She slowly realized that, no, Greenflower really did believe it.

Terrified and worried for her children, Sedgecreek kept quiet through most of TigerClan, not involving herself in the rebellious activities. After it had passed, the arguments started up.

She learned quickly that it was a sore topic for Greenflower, most conversations ending in fights, though she would grudgingly admit TigerClan went too far.

Duckfur was more open to discussion. Sedge valued their friendship, but sometimes became frustrated by how they didn't seem to have much of an opinion of their own.

During the destruction of the Forest in the Journey Era, Swallowtail grew close to a ThunderClan warrior, Rainwhisker. VERY close.

Sedgecreek had tolerated Greenflower's beliefs in the hopes of things returning to how they were, trying to fix their relationship, but now with their baby on the line...

When Greenflower snapped and disowned Swallowtail for claiming Queen's Rights, she was Reverse Uno Carded by Sedgecreek. That was the LAST straw.

On becoming leader, after the sudden death of Leopardstar to a rogue, Mistystar chose Sedgecreek as her deputy for this reason.

Seeing the tide of power pull in a new direction, Duckfur decided it was best to follow their friendship with Sedge over 'having Green's back.'

Beechfur and Swallowtail

It's ironic that Greenflower would complain that Swallowtail wasn't like her brother... both of them were actually in HalfClan relationships.

Beechfur was just quieter about it... aaaaand eventually ghosted Gorsetail when they settled at the lake.

Much like Duckfur, Beechfur is a bit of an opportunist. He isn't heartless or incapable of compassion, but he will often do things just because he wants to. And he loves his parents too much to want to change Clans.

The relationship between him and his sister Swallowtail became strained after Greenflower disowned her. There was a permanent rift in his family that he wasn't sure how to bridge.

He ended up staying on Greenflower's side, feeling she was alone without him, keeping his hypocrisy secret.

Eventually he found a mate in Graymist, siring many tragic children. The only who went on to have their own kits was Sneezecloud.

Meanwhile, Swallowtail mourns Rainwhisker nearly every day. She adored him, she would have left RiverClan for him, if he had not died in the WindClan Civil War.

Beechfur still being close to their other mother feels like a kind of betrayal, honestly. She feels hurt that Beechfur saw Greenflower treat her so badly, and yet still has a good relationship with her.

But she has her children, and her Mi.

In summary of personality;

Beechfur is passive and a bit selfish, but does care for his family in spite of the rift that formed.

Swallowtail is forlorn and bitter, but very loyal to the family that stuck by her side.

Sneezecloud, Rippletail, Rainstorm

Sneezecloud identifies much more strongly with his cousins on his mother's side, especially Mallowtail who is his best friend, probably because of the fact both families have a lot of tragedy.

For Ripple and Rain, growing up wasn't always easy. It was known that their father was from another Clan, but no one would ever tell them anything. That's the downside of Queen's Rights.

Not to mention antagonism from Greenflower, in spite of the various people trying to protect them.

Rainstorm learned to march to the beat of their own drum. It bothered them, but they found no happiness in trying to please people who treated them poorly for no good reason.

Acting overaggressive only ever landed them in trouble.

Meanwhile, Rippletail was always desperate to prove himself, be the best warrior he could be and serve RiverClan well. Quickly, he became one of their best warriors.

There were times where cats would predict that one day, him and Hollypaw would be opposing leaders of their Clans.

But, his life was cut short on a mission to bring back the water to the lake.

WIP material; Either Rainstorm claims Queen's Rights and their children are born around this time, or Rainstorm adopted them from Rippletail because of his death.`

In terms of personality:

Sneezecloud is confident and rough, in spite of having a moss allergy that gives him a permanently drippy nose.

Rippletail is ambitious and focused, but still knows how to cut loose, especially for his sib

Raincloud is relaxed and goofy, chronically unable to be intimidating.

Hallowflight, Rushfish

Into this came Lizardkit and Rushkit.

They were lucky to be born in a time better than the one their parent was born into. The two of them didn't struggle nearly as much as Rippletail and Rainstorm did.

But struggle, they still did. Lizardtail got it especially bad from Mossyfoot and Troutstream

For more on Lizardtail and how he gets his Honor Title, Hallowflight has a summary!

Rushfish has a very restless personality. They cycle through all sorts of interests, know a little bit about a lot of things, and think boredom is a form of torture.

Harelight, Dappletuft, Softpelt

When the Impostor rose to power, many of the cats in their family were suddenly coming under scrutiny in a way not seen in years.

Softpelt accepted this, but Harefur and Dappletuft did not. The two brothers immediately began plotting with the rebellion, as soon as they learned there was one.

Hare watched as Dappletuft died fighting against the Impostor, and Softpelt died defending him.

He was not even allowed to bury his brother, or sit vigil for his sister, Mistystar sent him back into exile.

When the impostor was revealed and it was shown that Hare had been correct all along, the only way she could apologize to him was allow him to go into the Dark Forest for the final confrontation.

Along with her, Mistystar and Harefur became known as Lights in the Mist. For this, Harefur became Harelight as an Honor Title.

He wanted to be able to accept how proud Hallowflight was of him, and his mother Lakeheart too... but... it's hard.

It's hard that they just accepted their punishments, and let Mistystar put Dappletuft in a shallow grave.

The generational strain upon the family continues.

#bones dont you have 100000000 wips to do #yes #but the blorbokin called and i answered #sedgecreek #whitefang #dragonclaw #beechfur #swallowtail #greenflower #Better Bones AU

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