#Downstar
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RippleClan: Moon 39, Part 2 (The Trial)
James has been resistant to retiring, but his aches and pains have slowed him down. He approaches Downstar and is honored for his tireless service.
[Image ID: James sits in the middle of the screen.]
It was strange for Weedfoot to consider herself to be even close to elder age. Still, there she was, watching her mate throw off the caretaker title and become an elder. He put on a show for Downstar and the others, claiming that he wanted to continue his service, to guide his kits through apprenticeship, but was “too easily exhausted” to continue his vigilant protection of the camp and all within. Now it was somewhat true; camp duties were his favorite, and walks around the territory had begun to tire him. But Weedfoot was certain that her fellow perceptive Clanmates saw the truth of it all.
James was finally old enough to retire without being called lazy, and he was taking that opportunity like a kit hunts a mossball.
Weedfoot let her mate celebrate his retirement with Parsley and Rabbitjoy. She would have plenty of time with him later, so why not let him brag to his friends about how easy his life would be now? Instead, as the Clan dismissed and Downstar went to her den, Weedfoot followed Downstar. The tortoiseshell leader was a bit like her old, friendly self now that she had Rustshade to pour her worries on, but since Harvest Moon a few days prior…
“Downstar?” Weedfoot called into the leader’s den. Downstar had been about to step into her nest, but turned at the sound of her deputy’s call.
“Something the matter?” Downstar asked. Weedfoot hesitated, unsure how to open the conversation. Paleshade would have known; she was always closer to Downstar than Weedfoot, even compared to the first moons of RippleClan, when the leader and deputy duo flowed together like birds flying in formation.
“I spoke with Rustshade and Mousesong earlier today.” Weedfoot entered the den and took a cautious seat a couple tail-lengths away. “Both will be ready for the trial tomorrow, if that is acceptable.”
“So soon?” Downstar sighed.
“By AshClan standards, this has been tediously slow,” Weedfoot said with a forced chuckle. The tensed muscles under Downstar’s fluffy coat killed Weedfoot’s laugh.
“StarClan,” Downstar groaned, walking toward the exit. “The first trial in RippleClan’s history… and I have to try my own kits.” Downstar paused and stared out at camp. Weedfoot joined her. Downstar’s gaze rested on a group of three outside the warrior’s den. Rustshade leaned close to Shadowdrop and Wildclaw, as he was prone to do in recent days. They were more than likely discussing their plan of attack for the trial once again. The pair of siblings couldn’t leave camp without escorts while they awaited their trial, and the wait physically dragged on Wildclaw. Even as she listened to Rustshade, she glanced toward the camp exit.
“I’m sorry this is happening,” Weedfoot sighed. “This is a fine mess we’ve found ourselves in.”
“How can I hope to judge them fairly when all I see are three healthy grandkits and my son acting like the father he’s dreamed of being?” Downstar turned back and marched into her nest. “The story doesn’t feel real to me.”
“Try not to think about the story too much,” Weedfoot reminded her. “You need to be as open-minded as possible for the trial.”
“I will be,” Downstar growled, tail fluffing. “I don’t give anyone special privileges. If they did something wrong, I’ll punish them, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” Weedfoot stiffened.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know they were ready.” Weedfoot bowed to her leader.
Yet as Weedfoot turned to go, Downstar groaned, “Wait, wait. Don’t leave, Weedfoot. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should not have snapped at you.” Weedfoot hesitated. She slowly approached Downstar and sat beside her. “I haven’t been able to talk to Rustshade while he’s preparing to defend my kits. I can’t deny my current feelings about this mess.”
“We’re conducting this trial together,” Weedfoot reminded her. “If anyone can listen to your worries about it now, I can.” Downstar sighed. She relaxed slightly and shifted closer to Weedfoot.
“Why did they have to go about it like this?” Downstar sighed.
(Weedfoot: 87, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)
(James: 115, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)
(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)
Shadowdrop is charged with endangering a queen and stealing her kits. Wildclaw shares the charge. Rustshade acts as their defender and Mousesong as their inquisitor.
[Image ID: Shadowdrop and Wildclaw stand behind Rustshade. The three all watch Mousesong stride forward.]
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Practically the entirety of RippleClan took the day off to bear witness to the first trial in their young history. Rabbitjoy would still need to cook and they couldn’t simply leave their borders unchecked, but if a cat could stay in camp, they did. Who would want to miss such a spectacle?
Each of the original four Clans had their own traditions for a trial, which meant RippleClan needed their own, and quickly. The Clan had Rattlepelt to thank for their final idea. As the subjects of the trial, Shadowdrop and Wildclaw each wore tight leather bands around their necks, almost like the strange collars of human society. Rustshade had a smaller band around his front paw, a symbol of the defender empathizing and placing themself in the paws of their charges. Mousesong, as inquisitor, had the most elaborate adornment; a necklace lined with beautiful clam shell beads, dyed blue with dogwood bark. The beads clacked together as Mousesong moved like the soft whispers of StarClan taking their place as quiet judges.
Downstar sat on top of the Shiprock, with Weedfoot settled below her, eyeing the Clan for any disruptions to the trial. Fennelspot sat to the side of the rock, fidgeting with the sand under his paws. The sunrise burned across the ocean and covered the camp in warm orange light. The shadows concealed Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe, who sat by the nursery with four kits. Troutkit had opened her eyes the day before and babbled random sounds that vaguely resembled words, but the litter of three black kits were still quiet and shut off from the world.
“A trial is a sacred duty of a just leader,” Downstar declared, all eyes on her. “To decide on guilt and punishment for a crime such as this without hearing from the Clan would be the act of a tyrannical leader. This is why we have our codekeepers; with them, we honor our laws and protect one another.” Shadowdrop’s gaze fell to his paws at the mention of codekeepers.
“A trial demands silence from the audience,” Weedfoot called. “Do not interrupt the proceedings unless there is an emergency. If you need to speak to me, please wave me down and do not draw attention away from the trial.” Weedfoot stared at the elder’s den with that statement. James had his five kits gathered around him. Most were polite and sat quietly, studying the trial, but Lavenderkit squirmed and trotted around his family. Waspkit smacked his brother and forced him to sit.
“Inquisitor,” Downstar said, turning to Mousesong, “are you ready to provide evidence of code-breaking and prove the guilt of the accused?”
“I am, Downstar,” Mousesong huffed, her necklace clinking as she nodded.
“Defender,” Downstar continued, looking to Rustshade, “are you ready to protect your Clanmates from undue punishment?”
“I am,” Rustshade said.
“And…” Downstar said. She hesitated for a moment as she made eye contact with her son and daughter. “And accused, are you prepared to accept the outcome of this trial, whatever it may be?”
“We are,” Shadowdrop said, unflinching.
“Then inquisitor, explain the purpose of this trial,” Downstar declared, laying down with her paws dangling off the tip of the Shiprock. Mousesong stood and faced the rest of RippleClan.
“Shadowdrop and Wildclaw share the charges of endangering a queen and her kits,” Mousesong began. Her gaze lingered on each of her Clanmates for a few long seconds before moving onto the next cat. “In this, the pair stole three kits from their mother’s belly and left the queen to suffer birthing complications and eventually pass onto wherever the souls of loners go to rest. Today, I will prove to you, cats of RippleClan, that Shadowdrop coerced a loner into having his kits in an attempt to fill the emotional hole left by Carnationspeckle’s rejection of him. In doing this, he recruited Wildclaw to bear witness to the birth and take the kits to RippleClan, where the molly of Shadowdrop’s desires would feel compelled to nurse and care for his children, just as Shadowdrop dreamed.” Oilstripe reflexively moved in front of Carnationspeckle at the mention of the brown molly’s name.
“Today, I intend to prove that Shadowdrop acted not out of love, but of selfish desire that cost a young molly her life. I also intend to prove that Wildclaw shares this guilt as an accomplice to the stealing of Tempestkit, Mosskit, and Trumpetkit.” Mousesong looked back to Downstar as she said the names of the three newborn kits. Downstar nodded, and Mousesong sat back down.
“Defender,” Downstar said, “how do you refute these charges?”
“The code my charges are accused of breaking is the Code of Queens and Kits,” Rustshade said. Rather than facing the crowd, Rustshade remained focused on Downstar. “However, in the process of this accusation and investigation, members of our Clan have also broken this code. This code is meant to protect kits and their parents from undue harassment, and yet Clammask, Scrubmask, and Fennelspot set off to investigate Shadowdrop’s claims, thereby breaking the code themselves.” Clammask tried to speak, but Scrubmask harshly nudged her, keeping her silent.
“This code allows for the breeding of kits with cats outside of the Clan in order to encourage the growth of our numbers and strength of our blood. We may memorize this code as applying to mollies who become pregnant, but it applies to toms who bring their kits to camp as well. Shadowdrop had no romantic ties to the mother of his kits. He did not break the code in this way. He cannot be blamed for the death of his queen because upon leaving her, she displayed no signs of the fatal condition that would befall her.”
“She had a name, Dad!” Clammask finally snapped. Parsley, Waspkit, and Rabbitjoy yowled their agreement.
“Quiet, quiet!” Weedfoot yowled over them.
“So I have to be quiet but you can yowl all you want?” Lavenderkit hissed at his brother.
“No one should be yowling,” James huffed, flicking his tail over both toms’ noses.
“Clammask brings up a good point, despite her interruption,” Downstar sighed. “The queen’s name was Cinderella. We should refer to her as such. She may not have been a Clan cat, but we owe her enough respect to use her name.” Mousesong and Rustshade bowed slightly.
“Cinderella’s death is a tragedy,” Rustshade continued, “but she had no intention of joining RippleClan and had no romantic relationship with Shadowdrop. At the heart of the situation, this was not a break in the code, as I intend to show you today.”
“Very good,” Downstar said. “The inquisitor and defender will take turns calling their witnesses to give statements before the Clan. They will both ask questions of the witness and present appropriate evidence during each interview. The inquisitor will call her first witness.”
“I have many witnesses I plan to call today,” Mousesong declared, “such as Clammask, Waspkit, and Carnationspeckle. However, there is one witness that overshadows the rest in importance. I call to bear witness before RippleClan and StarClan… Cinderella.” RippleClan stared at Mousesong. No one dared speak up. Then Oilstripe slipped away from Carnationspeckle. Traditionally, witnesses were supposed to sit next to the deputy, but Oilstripe left a large space beteeen herself and Weedfoot.
“Mousesong, Oilstripe, explain this,” Downstar ordered.
“Not long after Clammask, Scrubmask, and Fennelspot returned to camp with news of Cinderella’s demise,” Mousesong explained, “Oilstripe began to see a new spirit wandering camp. We all know of her ghost sight, as verified by Fennelspot, so this in and of itself is not surprising. Yet this spirit lacked the same starry pelts as StarClan spirits and looked nothing like any cat Oilstripe knew of. This cat was Cinderella. She has agreed to answer questions with Oilstripe as an interpreter.”
“Objection!” Rustshade yowled. “Oilstripe has never reported seeing the spirit of a cat outside StarClan in the past. Even then, how can we trust that she’s reporting exactly what this spirit says?”
“Thank you for the trust, Dad,” Oilstripe muttered.
“We treat the testimony just like we would treat anyone else’s,” Mousesong explained. “I’m sure StarClan wouldn’t accept a perversion of their gift. If Oilstripe were to add her own words to the testimony, StarClan will likely inform Fennelspot.”
“Incredibly unorthodox,” Downstar muttered, “but I don’t know a time in living history when a Clan has been able to take a dead molly’s testimony. Oilstripe, do you swear to report only what the spirit of Cinderella tells you?”
“I do,” Oilstripe said, glancing overhead at her leader.
“Then begin your interview, inquisitor,” Downstar declared.
[Image ID: Mousesong speaks with Oilstripe. The ghost of a smoky black molly with a white collar stands next to Oilstripe. Oilstripe/Cinderella say “We had a deal. Bear kits with him, and he would teach me as much about Clan life as he could. Fire starting, cooking, crafting, everything.”]
Mousesong approached Oilstripe with a calculated gaze. She glanced at the empty spot beside her.
“I hope your afterlife is peaceful, Cinderella,” Mousesong said to the empty space. “I’m sure Rustshade will be questioning you on how you can exist when we thought Oilstripe only saw StarClan spirits. Do you have any answers for us?” Oilstripe’s ears tilted to the empty space. She was quiet for a while, listening to something no one else could hear.
“My mother told me that when I died, I would spend a year in the land I left behind, making sure my loved ones are safe before I move on,” Oilstripe said, although it would be more truthful to say that Cinderella said so. “This is just what I expected. Since I died, I thought it would be good to make sure my kits went to a good home.”
“Yes, your kits,” Rustshade huffed. He marched up beside Mousesong. His focus shifted between Oilstripe and where everyone presumed the spirit of Cinderella sat. “Kits you had with the young black tom behind me, am I correct?”
“She’s nodding,” Oilstripe reported.
“Is it true that you agreed to give the kits to RippleClan long before their birth?” Rustshade asked. Oilstripe squirmed as she waited for Cinderella’s response.
“I think you’ve made her nervous,” Oilstripe admitted, shifting closer to the Shiprock.
“This is a lot, isn’t it?” Mousesong sighed. “You find that you’ve died, you find a stranger who can see you, and you’re suddenly thrust into the ritual of a strange group. I can’t relate to being dead, but I understand feeling strange. I came to RippleClan when I was young. Everyone decided my fate for me. I imagine that’s a bit like what you’ve experienced as a loner, am I correct?” Oilstripe listened for a long time.
“Froggy told me about the Clans,” Oilstripe/Cinderella explained. “I didn’t want to live in one, but I liked what you could do. I thought if I could cook prey for my sister and I, it would be easier to live away from humans. I asked a few cats I saw near your borders, but none seemed interested in talking to me until I met Shadowdrop.”
“Yes, elaborate on your relationship with Shadowdrop,” Mousesong urged her on.
“We had a deal. Bear kits with him, and he would teach me as much about Clan life as he could. Fire starting, cooking, crafting, everything.”
“Did he tell you why he wanted to have kits?”
“He wanted a family.”
“Yes, a desire that the code has clear-cut provisions for!” Rustshade interrupted. “This only proves my argument, Downstar. Shadowdrop was not romantically involved with Cinderella, it was a deal as simple as the ones mollies make with strange sires.”
“That may be true,” Mousesong huffed, “but we have yet to get to the kitting itself. Can you take us through it, Cinderella?” Shadowdrop shifted closer to Wildclaw.
“When I felt the kits coming, I went to RippleClan,” Oilstripe translated for Cinderella. “Shadowdrop told me about all the medicines in the Clans, so I thought we would have the kits there. We met up nearly every day, so I knew where to wait for him. When he saw me, he told me to stay strong and went to fetch help.”
“He brought back Wildclaw, yes?” Mousesong clarified.
“My memory blurs a bit when they get back. I was focused on my kitting. The first two kits came out right, but after the third kit, I felt different. I think there was an issue. It was hard to describe. What I remember is that not long after I cleaned up the third kit, Shadowdrop and his guest left with the kits. I was alone. I wasn’t sure what to do. I headed for home, but I suppose I never made it back.”
“It may be an odd testimony, but members of RippleClan, you’ve heard it from the victim,” Mousesong declared, facing the crowd. “Shadowdrop and Wildclaw left Cinderella behind, in pain, without her kits. Fennelspot could have saved her, but she never got the chance. How can we say this is a simple case of siring when they left Cinderella to die and tried to forget she ever existed?”
“I want to go back to how you said your memory blurs,” Rustshade huffed. “If you don’t remember much, how can we trust that what you do remember is correct?”
“Shadowdrop showed up with three black kits, didn’t he?” As Oilstripe repeated what only she could hear, she glared at Shadowdrop. Another pair of eyes stared at the black tom too, but they were invisible to nearly everyone. Shadowdrop felt the glare of both mollies.
Shadowdrop and Wildclaw are found guilty. Shadowdrop is demoted to a warrior and must spend the next half moon in exile. Wildclaw will be on nursery duty until the litter is apprenticed (a task she hates).
[Image ID: Shadowdrop and Wildclaw listen to their sentences.]
There were quite a few more witnesses after Cinderella (Waspkit, Clammask, Carnationspeckle, even Oilstripe came back as her own witness) but none could match hers in terms of strangeness. It seemed every interview looped back to what the unseen spirit had said. More than a few cats stepped out of camp to debate whether the loner’s ghost was actually there or if Oilstripe was lying to get Shadowdrop in trouble. Regardless of the truth, Mousesong dug into the statement like prey with every argument she crafted.
Rustshade, oddly enough, only called Wildclaw as a witness. She didn’t have much to add; her brother asked for her help, of course she helped. Shadowdrop, however, stayed where he was, studying his Clanmates, itching at his ceremonial collar.
Downstar took a while to make a decision. She called many members of RippleClan into her den to hear their opinions on the matter like any informed leader would. Despite it all, the wait was like a blanket of fleas crawling across the pelt of RippleClan. Shadowdrop and Wildclaw waited with Rustshade in the center of camp the entire time. While Wildclaw kept pestering Rustshade about what would happen next, Shadowdrop stared at the nursery, where his three squirmy kits slept in the darkness.
Downstar left her den shortly before sunset. Conversations died away and curious eyes watched Downstar climb onto the Shiprock. Shadowdrop sat up and nudged his sister. Weedfoot hurried out of the nursery and took her place below Downstar.
“I have come to my decision,” Downstar announced, studying her kits. “Before I pass my judgment, however, there’s someone we still haven’t heard from today. Shadowdrop?” Shadowdrop met his mother’s eye. “Wildclaw may share your charges, but in essence, you are the one on trial here. You’ve barely spoken today. I need to hear this from you. Tell us the truth, Shadowdrop. Please.” Shadowdrop stood, shaking the sand off his paws.
“I wanted a family, Mom,” Shadowdrop said. “I went about it the only way I could. If I couldn’t have them with Carnationspeckle, I would have them with someone else. I hid the truth at first because I knew people would make the wrong conclusions. I can be a great father. I’ll raise these kits to be model RippleClan cats.” Wildclaw poked Shadowdrop before he could say more. Over by the warrior’s den, Clammask and Oilstripe bristled.
“Shadowdrop…” Downstar sighed. Her weary eyes washed over the Clan. “There were other ways to start a family. The way you’ve gone about it was irresponsible and selfish. What if Carnationspeckle wasn’t here to nurse your kits? Or did you sire them knowing she would?”
“That’s not what he wanted, Mom,” Wildclaw growled, stepping closer with unsheathed paws.
“Wildclaw, you don’t know what he wanted,” Downstar snapped. “You followed him out into the territory and didn’t ask questions. You don’t think these things through, Wildclaw, and it shows.” Wildclaw froze. She sat back beside Shadowdrop. Downstar sighed deeply, a shiver running down her pelt. As she relaxed, she sat taller and glared down at Shadowdrop and Wildclaw.
“Warriors of StarClan, may my words and my actions today honor your sacred code and protect RippleClan. Shadowdrop, Wildclaw, I find you guilty of endangering a queen and her kits. Your act of siring may be protected by the code, but you left a struggling mother to die and took away her kits. No matter what deal you may have made, you were cruel. All you cared about was having kits that you could watch Carnationspeckle nurse.”
“That’s not true!” Shadowdrop yowled. “I… I was…” Shadowdrop’s eyes bounced in his skull, searching for answers he couldn’t find.
“Shadowdrop, your attempt to sneak around the Code of Queens and Kits shows me that you cannot be trusted to guard the code in the future,” Downstar said. Her tone was still and steady. “Upon your return, you will no longer be a codekeeper, but a warrior assigned to whatever tasks your Clan needs.”
“Mom…” Shadowdrop gulped.
“When he returns?” Wildclaw snapped. “What does that mean?”
“Cinderella agreed to your deal in order to learn our skills and better survive as a loner,” Downstar explained. “You showed no compassion for her, and so should get a glimpse of what she may have experienced. For the next half moon, you will live in exile. You will not be allowed in RippleClan territory and must care for yourself like Cinderella did.” Shadowdrop stared up at Downstar. He kept still, but his jaw quivered and the tip of his tail twitched wildly. “In other circumstances, this could have been a permanent exile, Shadowdrop. Reflect on that. Mousesong, escort Shadowdrop out of RippleClan territory.”
Rustshade gently helped Shadowdrop out of his ceremonial collar. Shadowdrop’s scared gaze tore into the nursery as Mousesong nudged him back. RippleClan parted as Mousesong shoved Shadowdrop out of camp. Halibutdusk looked at his paws as his brother passed. Downstar couldn’t look away.
“Wildclaw,” she finally said after a long, pain-soaked minute. “You could have helped Cinderella, but you didn’t. I believe you have perspectives on Clan life that need to be corrected. As such, until Shadowdrop’s litter is apprenticed, you will be on nursery duty. You will not be allowed on any other patrols and will care for the kits’ every need.”
“I don’t need to be in the nursery all day!” Wildclaw groaned.
“You do and you will, Wildclaw!” Downstar yowled. “There will be no bargaining. Your punishment is set. May StarClan forgive you both. This trial is over.” Downstar soared off the Shiprock and sulked into her den. Halibutdusk was the first of the Clan to step out of the crowd. He headed for his mother’s den. Wildclaw struggled and pulled at her collar. Rattlepelt had to pull her paw away and help her before she broke the leather. Oilstripe hurried to the nursery, Weedfoot’s kits slipped around her to find their mother, and the Clan carefully broke into heated whispers.
With that, RippleClan’s first trial was finally over.
(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Weedfoot: 87, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)
(Mousesong: 15, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)
(Rustshade: 83, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)
(Wildclaw: 31, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)
(Shadowdrop: 31, male, warrior, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)
(Clammask: 33, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)
(Lavenderkit: 5, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)
(James: 115, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)
(Oilstripe: 43, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)
(Halibutdusk: 31, male, warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)
#warrior cats#clangen#rippleclan#warriors#rippleclan story#downstar#weedfoot#oilstripe#james#shadowdrop#wildclaw#mousesong#rustshade#halibutdusk#waspkit#clammask#lavenderkit
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Downstar ref!
This is what a bitch looks like, take notes everyone
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When you're having a bad day, but those fic writers update.
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Aaaaaaaaaahhhh next month on the 31st ny baby will be 1 year old 🥺 shes such a big girl now ❤️
#im gonna get her a little doggy birthday cake lmao#or cookie whichever is more accessable#but preferably a cake so her siblings downstares can have some with her!#and im gonna buy her a cute outfit shell only wear once djsbje#i gotta spoiler her damn 🙄#talkies#tw dog#dog tw
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Sorry for spammming im just in fuckin agony right now amdnnothung manages to entertain me BUT I just remembered at the party they had like a little camera setup and stuff and me and my friends took a bunch of pics and most of my friends did group photos doing like. Jojo poses but I just took pictures picking up half my friend group bridal style At one point i even picked up two at once so likeeee
#Group Alpha truly and foreever#Also i think I have a really really bad fever but I cant stand long enough to go get the Thermometer from downstars so if I suddenly never#post again its cause my brain turned into scrampled eggs from the hear#heat*#also unrelated to the post but related to my agony My mom always says that like sicknessed like colds and Shit have something to do with#the inner child.or like activate the inner child which in this case could not be more true cause I am so whiny right now and all I can#think about are wolves like I go to sleep rolling up next to my moms dog imaginijg Im sleeping in the foreest with my wolfpack . which is#most definitely little kid me behavior like me and 7 year old me have the exact same mindset right now and it is Awooo and grr bark woof
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expectation
translated from a @downstars photo ?
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The Consort (complete)
The Consort (11364 words) by downstar
Chapters: 4/4
Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Balin (Tolkien)
Additional Tags: Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Consort Bilbo Baggins, POV Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Misunderstandings, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Courting, Domestic Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Cultural Differences, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Gentleness
Series: Part 2 of The Quiet Moments - Bilbo and Thorin
Summary:
After a confession of their feelings, Bilbo returns to Erebor with Thorin. The great city is in the process of rebuilding, and Thorin is settling into his role as his king. Word is getting around that their king has asked an outsider - a hobbit! - to be his consort. Can their burgeoning relationship survive the pressures of kingship and cultural misunderstandings?
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This fic carries on in continuity from my one-shot The King and the Hobbit. It's part of a series of one-shots or short pieces that exist within the same continuity and in the same timeline. Check the previous fic in this collection for the story of how the two of them got together.
Excerpt:
One evening, a few weeks into his stay in Erebor, Bilbo sat hunched over a heavy metal desk, perched high on a pair of cushions, his hairy feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He’d been hard at work for hours, drafting what would one day become the first chapter of their fated quest.
Thorin approached him from behind and set his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to sleep. Join me when you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account. Your candlelight does not bother me.”
“Mhmm, be there soon,” replied Bilbo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words of the sentence he was trying to get just right. “Ah, Thorin, Thorin…” he looked up suddenly and swiveled around.
Thorin had just finished ducking out of his embroidered tunic. The flickering light of the roaring hearth set into the wall and the dim glow of the sunstones huddled up against Bilbo’s plants tossed flattering shadows across the thick muscle of his back. It also highlighted the pure white scar tissue rimmed in silver where Azog’s blade had sliced him through. Elvish medicine had saved his life, but he would always bear the mark of his nemesis and feel the wound echoed in the movement of his body.
Thorin looked over his shoulder and lifted a brow when Bilbo called his name. “Mhmm?”
Bilbo found himself staring. He still wasn’t used to seeing the dwarven king in a state of undress, especially in so casual and intimate a moment. A physique such as Thorin’s was unknown among hobbits, which went some of the way towards explaining why Bilbo had never found a lover among his own kind. There was much more there, of course, but the physical nature of his attraction had caught him off-guard more than once since he’d found the courage to acknowledge it.
Thorin noticed Bilbo’s wandering gaze and turned around. He made a bit of a cheeky show of leaning up against the wall next to the hearth, as if aware that the firelight did much to flatter his body.
Bilbo swallowed, twitched his nose and tap-tapped his pen against a spare bit of paper he used to blot the ink. “Do you…” he cleared his throat, “...do you think there’s someone who could teach me Khuzdul? I should like to add some dwarvish script to my book. I’ve also heard that Smaug left the archive virtually untouched and there are many wonderful and ancient tomes that are still in good condition. But I can’t read any of them. And that…” he rapped his pen again, “... is a speeeeecial kind of torture.”
Thorin was a stoic man, capable of very subtle expressions. But the delight at hearing Bilbo’s request was immediate and obvious. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as warm as hearthfire. He crossed the great chamber to Bilbo’s side and reached out to cup his cheek. “I will send for a scholar from the Iron Hills to be your tutor. You will have the advantage of learning under a master of languages.”
“That’s really not necessary. I can muddle along with some references and a helper. I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble,” Bilbo replied. He felt the tips of his ears burn red, and he was suddenly grateful for the mess of his hair and the low shimmer of light.
#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#the hobbit#bagginshield#the hobbit bilbo#thorin fic#fic rec#ao3 writer#thorin x bilbo#bilbo baggins#bilbo x thorin#thilbo#bagginshield fic#thilbo fic#thilbo fanfic#bagginshield fanfic#thorin/bilbo#bilbo/thorin#lotr fanfic#lotr fanfiction#thehobbit#the hobbit fanfiction#the hobbit fanfic
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Hi there! Hope you are well <3
I was wondering if you knew of any fics where Crowley and/or Aziraphale get turned human? Especially better, if they stay human at the end
Thank you for all you doing <3
We have a #turned human tag with LOADS of fics already recommended. Here are some more recent fics...
The Ballad of Ozzie & Tony by sofyachy (G)
Let's say Good Omens Season 3 ends with Aziraphale and Crowley becoming mortal. They are born on Earth to human parents, learning how to walk, talk, and eventually they meet. Just a little life overview story you can read over tea and an eccles cake.
Something I Can’t Quite Put My Finger On. by orphan_account (G)
What if Aziraphale had been erased from the Book of Life, and wiped from existence entirely?
Let There Now Be Darkness by Probably_A_Robot (NR)
After accepting The Metatron’s proposition and promotion to Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale is cast out of Heaven— with the punishment being a life on Earth as a human, unable to travel back to Heaven or even to Hell.
More Human Than Human by DarkRomance (NR)
Crowley is having flashbacks from when he first entered Hell and they are in the form of vivid night terrors. He is exhausted all the time, spending all his moments in bed. Aziraphale is terribly worried about him and is trying to care for him as best he can, when he has an idea. It would be permanent, but it just might save them both.
The Curious Condition of Being Human by downstar (T)
For a time, the forces of Heaven and Hell left Aziraphale and Crowley alone. But with new plans in the works, the forces of good and evil want to make sure the meddling pair stay out of the way. They are still afraid of the newfound powers the pair seemed to possess, as demonstrated at their trials. So instead of coming at them directly, Gabriel and Beezlebub marry celestial and infernal curses to make Crowley and Aziraphale think they're human.
But their plan, as usual, is imperfect. Crowley's enchantment fails almost immediately, but Aziraphale is still under the delusion that he is quite human indeed. Crowley needs to try and undo the curse without drawing the attention of celestial forces who might correct their enchantment and try a second time.
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If you're looking for something with a canon tone, but light on angst, this story is for you. No spoilers for S2, but the story is informed by S2 characterization as of chapter 8.
Black Holes and Revelations by ArtisticRising (E)
Crowley takes a leap of faith… into the heart of a black hole. It’s the last card Crowley has to play. He can’t do this without Aziraphale… and he’s betting that Aziraphale can’t do this without him.
- Mod D
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I have to rec this wonderful WIP:
Edward Teach, codename Blackbeard works for an intelligence and assasination agency for-hire. He's sent to kill the socialite Stede Bonnet after seducing him, but discovers that the man is much more than he appears to be. He's actually an MI6 agent, codename Gentleman, hiding in plain sight.
Things quickly go off the rails when an attempt on both of their lives leaves them wondering who they can trust. As they become an unlikely duo, they are forced to reckon with the chemistry between them - and how that complicates their adversarial relationship.
---
This fic follows in the grand tradition of James Bond, Salt, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, The Long Kiss Goodnight and Lucky Number Slevin. Featuring action in the tradition of spy thrillers, with a healthy dose of queer romance and an enemies-to-lovers arc.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Spy - Freeform, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Our Flag Means Death Fusion, Enemies to Lovers, Spy thriller, Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, spy vs spy - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Action, Intrigue, Espionage, Jealous Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Seduction, Jealous Stede Bonnet, Trust Issues, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, spy gear, Disguise
It's up to 14k words in 6 chapters. Rated M. Give it a look!
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Downstar commissioned me to draw some art for "Welcome to Dos Corazones"! Thank you so much & congratulations on finishing the fic! ❤🦩
#ofmd#ofmd au#ofmd art#ofmd commission#ofmd fic#ofmd fanart#our flag means death fanart#our flag means death#stede bonnet#edward teach#stede x ed#ed x stede#gentlebeard#blackbonnet
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RippleClan: Moon 39, Part 1
Oilstripe has been waiting eagerly to decide names for her offspring. At Carnationspeckle’s invitation, she crawls into the nursery, purring and joining Carnationspeckle in naming their single kitten.
[Image ID: Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle sit together, watching a newborn cream and white kit. Underneath the kit, it says NEW PLAYER: TROUTKIT, 0, FEMALE, INSECURE. Under Carnationspeckle, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH.]
(Oilstripe: 43, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)
(Carnationspeckle: 41, female, caretaker compassionate, fish-like swimmer)
(Troutkit: 0, female, kit, insecure)
(Author’s note: the following scenes involve allusions to traumatic childbirth. Please read with caution. All will be revealed in time.)
Palekit and Ripplekit have recovered from heat exhaustion.
[Image ID: Palekit and Ripplekit face each other. Under Palekit, it says - CONDITION: HEAT EXHAUSTION, + NEW SKILL: NEVER SITS STILL. Under Ripplekit, it says - CONDITION: HEAT EXHAUSTION.]
(Palekit: 5, female, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder, never sits still)
(Ripplekit: 5, female, kit, know-it-all, avid play fighter, splashes in puddles)
Wildclaw’s sprain has healed.
[Image ID: Wildclaw follows Shadowdrop, calling “Shadow, where are we going?” Underneath her, it says - CONDITION: DISLOCATED PAW. Waspkit watches from the back. Underneath him, it says + NEW SKILL: EYE FOR DETAILS.]
---
The past Harvest Moons were exciting times for RippleClan. As they got more and more members, their contribution to the holiday grew bigger and better. This year they got to talk about darkhounds, and Wildclaw had every intention on teaching little apprentices how to protect their friends and family from the dangerous beasts. After all, her paw was all better, and Rattlepelt had a great show planned (even though talking to her still hurt a bit, no matter how much Wildclaw ignored it). The problem was, she didn’t account for one thing; guard duty.
“Mom, you know I like guarding camp,” Wildclaw stammered as Downstar checked the baskets and pots the Clan would bring to Harvest Moon, “but on Harvest Moon?”
“We can’t have everyone at the celebration,” Downstar sighed, not looking at her daughter. “Weedfoot needs to be there as deputy, which means we need more paws in camp watching over our kits and injured. Carnationspeckle is still exhausted from birthing Troutkit, she needs all the support she can have while we’re out.”
“Troutkit?” Wildclaw said. “They finally named the little sprout?”
“They picked a name this morning,” Downstar explained. “Carnationspeckle needs good food to build her strength, and you’re a good cook when you’re not itching to patrol.”
“It’ll be lonely with just us here,” Wildclaw huffed.
“Shadowdrop volunteered to stay behind,” Downstar said, finally facing Wildclaw, “and Parsley will be watching Weedfoot’s litter. It won’t be too bad.” Downstar touched her nose to Wildclaw’s forehead.
Only the tip of the sun glimmered over the ocean’s horizon. All around the mother and daughter duo, the rest of RippleClan prepared to head out for Harvest Moon. Oilstripe helped Fennelspot put on an elaborate tail wrap Rattlepelt made for when Fennelspot needed to flaunt his authority as a cleric. Weedfoot’s kits pestered their parents about what Harvest Moon was like, even though they were old enough to know better. Scrubmask and Clammask shared tongues with Halibutdusk while Rabbitjoy placed a necklace around Rattlepelt’s neck.
“Everyone carry a load!” Downstar called, slipping a basket around her neck. “We have a lot to bring today.” Downstar patted Wildclaw with her tail and joined Rustshade and Mousesong. Soon the whole Clan was on the move, save for Wildclaw, the silent guardian in the heart of camp.
“I’d be better off keeping them safe at the holiday,” she muttered, rubbing a paw into the sand. Parsley strolled past her and slid between Weedfoot’s kits, all of whom stared out at camp at their slowly vanishing Clanmates.
“You five are old enough to entertain yourselves today,” Parsley said with a twitch of her stub. “I’m sure we can have our own Harvest Moon here if you want.”
“I could tell some stories,” Ripplekit suggested.
“Or we could tell our own!” Lavenderkit suggested, wiggling his flank high. “Let’s be artisans and put on our own show!”
“That sounds fun!” Palekit chirped.
“You four go ahead,” Waspkit huffed, lifting his leg. “I’m going to groom myself. I don’t think putting on a show like this is what a real codekeeper would do.”
“We won’t get to play around like this when we’re apprentices,” Puddlekit whined, nudging his golden brother. “Mom said even Grandfather enjoyed being a kit when he was one! And Dad says you’re just like him.”
“You’re the one they named after him, shouldn’t you be like him?” Waspkit huffed. “Carnationspeckle says Puddlespeckle was a mean old tom. I don’t want to be like him.”
“Then don’t act like a codekeeper and act like a kit!” Palekit huffed. She nibbled Waspkit’s ear, and the bossy kit’s stoic expression broke. He laughed and shoved his sister. He joined the rest of his littermates by the Shiprock, chatting about their show.
“That takes care of that,” Parsley yawned, stretching. “I’m going to share tongues with Carnationspeckle for a while. You and your brother enjoy a quiet camp.” Parsley headed for the nursery.
As she left, however, Wildclaw realized she didn’t see Shadowdrop anywhere. Curious, Wildclaw peeked into the dirtplace. No Shadowdrop. She checked the warrior’s den. No Shadowdrop. She even checked the medicine den, but unsurprisingly, Shadowdrop wasn’t inside. Where did her brother go? Did he slip off to Harvest Moon? Lately, it felt like Wildclaw could never find the black codekeeper. Did he expect her to guard camp alone?
In a moment of shockingly coincidental timing, Shadowdrop entered camp. He lingered by the entrance, eyeing the empty camp. When he saw Wildclaw, he flicked his tail for her to join him. He was stiff and inched toward the exit with every moment Wildclaw lingered. Wildclaw glanced around her, like she was still a wild apprentice trying to sneak out of camp. The kits were absorbed in their plans, save for Waspkit, who eyed Shadowdrop as the others chattered on. Wildclaw jogged toward Shadowdrop. She barely got close before he started to lead her out of camp.
“Shadow, where are we going?” Wildclaw whispered, unsure why she chose to whisper. Shadowdrop’s tensed shoulders and stiff movements shut Wildclaw up. Something was happening, something Shadowdrop wanted to wait to discuss. But what?
(Wildclaw: 31, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)
(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Parsley: 133, female, elder, righteous, great speaker)
(Ripplekit: 5, female, kit, know-it-all, avid play fighter, splashes in puddles)
(Lavenderkit: 5, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)
(Palekit: 5, female, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder, never sit still)
(Waspkit: 5, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history, eye for detail)
(Puddlekit: 5, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)
(Shadowdrop: 31, male, codekeeper, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)
When the Clan returns from Harvest Moon, there are three new kits in camp. Shadowdrop and Wildclaw claim a wild queen gave them up. Shadowdrop has adopted them.
[Image ID: Three black newborn kits sit in moss nests. The kit in the upper left has text under them saying NEW PLAYER: TEMPESTKIT, 0, FEMALE, TROUBLESOME. The kit in the middle says NEW PLAYER: MOSSKIT, 0, MALE, BULLYING. The kit on the right reads NEW PLAYER: TRUMPETKIT, 0, FEMALE, NERVOUS].
---
The deep dark could do nothing to stop the rush of warmth and laughter flowing off the returning RippleClan cats. Clammask was in the thick of it, squished between Rustshade and Downstar as she carried an empty basket home. Everyone’s stories had been excellent. It was a wonderful start to the new season, and there was no Shadowdrop around to glare at Oilstripe.
And now Shadowdrop was back in Clammask’s mind, how wonderful. Why the tom couldn’t let go of a simple crush, Clammask would never understand. If she were leader, she would smack some sense into him. Ever since Carnationspeckle got pregnant, he was barely around, only returning after a long hunt or patrol. Maybe with Troutkit’s birth, Shadowdrop would mellow out. Or maybe he would get worse. Whatever the case, Clammask had her eye on him.
“We’re back!” Downstar called as she led RippleClan into camp. Clammask’s Clanmates pushed past her, yawning and chattering about everything their friends in the other Clans had to say. Parsley sat outside the nursery with Ripplekit, Lavenderkit, and Palekit. Parsley shot up at the Clan’s arrival.
“Mom, Dad!” Lavenderkit called. Lavenderkit raced toward Weedfoot and James, who pushed into camp with Oilstripe and Halibutdusk. “Mom, Dad, Shadowdrop brought kits home!” Clammask’s feet dug into the sand as she turned to face the excited kit.
“What was that?” James scoffed, turning his head as though he didn’t hear his son well. Palekit and Ripplekit joined their brother.
“Shadowdrop and Wildclaw came into camp and they had kits!” Lavenderkit said again.
“They’re cute,” Ripplekit noted as though that was the important part of the story. The whole Clan stared at Lavenderkit, the excited conversation dying down as the strange and sudden statement rippled through them.
“Parsley…” Downstar said as the tortoiseshell elder approached.
“We didn’t want to make a scene at Harvest Moon,” Parsley sighed. “It’ll be better if you hear your son’s story.” Downstar hurried past Parsley and to the nursery. Halibutdusk and Clammask ran after her.
The nursery was dark and cool when Clammask stepped inside. Waspkit and Puddlekit watched the shocking scene silently from their nest. Shadowdrop sat next to Carnationspeckle, head tall as his mother and leader entered. Carnationspeckle slowly pulled herself from sleep, shifting to face the crowd. Carnationspeckle had more kits at her belly than she started the day with. Troutkit was sound asleep, tucked into her mother’s fluff, but three black kits squirmed in Carnationspeckle’s embrace. Clammask knew in an instant they belonged to Shadowdrop.
“What did you do?” Clammask hissed.
“Clammask, he doesn’t have to explain himself,” Halibutdusk reminded her, blocking her path to Shadowdrop. “The code protects him.”
“I don’t have anything to hide, Halibut,” Shadowdrop huffed. Downstar crouched beside the three new kits. All three were blind to the world, but Troutkit seemed to sense the presence of her leader and mewed softly.
“Two mollies and a tom,” Downstar muttered. Shadowdrop stood behind Carnationspeckle and studied the three kits.
“Wildclaw and I went hunting,” Shadowdrop said. “We found a molly nursing these three. She was a kittypet whose humans planned to kill her kits. She had been hiding in the forests outside our territory for a few days nursing them, but had to return to her humans. She asked us to take them in.” Clammask’s gray eyes burned like boiling water. These kits were Shadowdrop’s by blood, they looked just like him and his littermates. There was no way under Silverpelt that these kits did not have RippleClan blood. Clammask was certain of it.
“Did she name them?” Downstar asked softly. Clammask’s glare turned on Downstar. Did she really believe Shadowdrop?”
“She asked us to pick names with her,” Shadowdrop explained. He walked back around Carnationspeckle and touched his nose to each kit as he said “Tempestkit… Mosskit… Trumpetkit.” He turned back to Downstar and said, “I want to raise them, Mom. I’ll be their father.” He already was their father, did no one else see it?
“I have the milk for them, luckily,” Carnationspeckle purred. “They’ve latched on well.”
“Thank you, Carnationspeckle,” Shadowdrop sighed. “I couldn’t do this without your help.” He touched his nose to Carnationspeckle’s forehead. Bile crawled up Clammask’s throat.
“Welcome to RippleClan, little ones,” Downstar purred, voice cracking as she licked each small kit. She then groomed her son’s cheek and Shadowdrop leaned into his mother.
“Where’s Wildclaw?” Clammask finally snapped. “I want to hear her side of this story.”
“You know how deeply she sleeps,” Shadowdrop sighed, rolling his eyes. “She probably isn’t aware you’re back at all.” A good excuse to keep the story straight, Clammask thought.
“Clammask, can you leave us?” Downstar asked, finally noticing someone other than her kin. “Let Fennelspot know we have new members of the Clan to care for.” Clammask nodded slowly and backed out of the den. She knew when her words would go unheeded.
StarClan, what was Shadowdrop doing? Clammask was certain he still liked Carnationspeckle, she could see it in his eyes. So why have kits with someone else? Shouldn’t he be fighting for her attention, like in Rabbitjoy’s stories of the tormented lover in the flames? Why go about it like this?
“Clammask?” Clammask had stopped a few tail-lengths away from the nursery, unable to obey her leader’s request. She turned to find Waspkit standing behind her. He looked more like an apprentice than ever before, searching for answers in Clammask’s eyes.
“What is it?” Clammask asked. Waspkit glanced toward the rest of his family, all focused on Lavenderkit’s retelling of the day’s events.
“When I was younger, and I caught Ripplekit in Downstar’s den,” Waspkit muttered, “I told on her, because Mom said we weren’t allowed in there. My littermates got mad at me and said I was trying to show off to the adults. If I tell you what I saw tonight, will Shadowdrop say I’m messing with something that doesn’t involve me?”
“Waspkit, there is a difference between trying to get someone in trouble and knowing something bad has happened.” Gray eyes tore into gray eyes as Clammask thought through each word. “If you think Shadowdrop has done something that could hurt someone, it’s important to tell someone you trust so we can help fix it.” Waspkit nodded.
“I saw Shadowdrop and Wildclaw leave camp this morning,” Waspkit whispered into Clammask’s ear. “It didn’t look like a hunting patrol. Shadowdrop looked nervous. And, and the kits look really little, like when Troutkit was just born. They smell weird, too. I don’t think Shadowdrop is telling the truth.”
“I don’t either, Waspkit,” Clammask said. “We’ll keep this to ourselves for now, alright? Try and get some sleep. Thank you for trusting me.” She touched noses with Waspkit. The young tom nodded stiffly and scurried back to the nursery.
Clammask had to do something, and she had to do it soon.
(Clammask: 33, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)
(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)
(Lavenderkit: 5, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)
(James: 115, male, caretaker, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)
(Ripplekit: 5, female, kit, know-it-all, avid play fighter, splashes in puddles)
(Parsley: 133, female, elder, righteous, great speaker)
(Shadowdrop: 31, male, codekeeper, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)
(Carnationspeckle: 41, female, caretaker compassionate, fish-like swimmer)
(Troutkit: 0, female, kit, insecure)
(Tempestkit: 0, female, kit, troublesome)
(Mosskit: 0, male, kit, bullying)
(Trumpetkit: 0, female, kit, nervous)
(Waspkit: 5, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history, eye for detail)
Scrubmask, Clammask, and Fennelspot go in search of the mother.
[Image ID: Scrubmask, Clammask, and Fennelspot face Froggy, who says “You’re all too late.”]
---
“Scrubmask, you know he’s lying,” Clammask hissed, crouched beside her friend in a quiet corner of camp. Most of RippleClan had retired for the night or continued ooing and awwing at the three new kits in the nursery. Clammask and Scrubmask were largely ignored, which worked in the younger molly’s favor.
“Do I?” Scrubmask sighed, resting her chin between her paws. “All I see is a tom who decided to do the right thing and raise some kits he found.”
“Kits that look just like him,” Clammask groaned.
“If he lied, we can’t ask him,” Scrubmask reminded Clammask, watching her from the corner of her eye. “You know the code.”
“Yes, yes, but there’s something that might trump the code in this situation,” Clammask huffed. “Someone gave birth to those kits, and whether Shadowdrop is telling the truth or not, that someone is in trouble.”
“How so?” Scrubmask sat up.
“If he’s telling the truth, which I know he isn’t,” Clammask huffed, “there’s a kittypet stuck in an awful situation that she has the opportunity to leave, if we find her. If he’s lying, there is a loner or Clan cat or someone out there who has recently given birth and needs help. Carnationspeckle was exhausted giving birth to a single kit. Do you want to imagine what a lone mother could be going through?”
“We could be bringing trouble on these kits’ heads,” Scrubmask sighed. “Your arrival wasn’t that different from theirs.”
“Don’t remind me,” Clammask grumbled. When she learned who her mother was, she couldn’t help but think, what if she had grown up with Sunstrike? What if she had gotten the chance to have two parents rather than one? Would Twinekit and Locustseeker still be alive?
“We’ll be making a big fuss if we try to find the mother,” Scrubmask said. “Are you sure you want to go through with it?”
“If anyone can find her,” Clammask insisted, “it’s you and your nose. You always bring back prey, finding a strange cat shouldn’t be much different. Besides, I think I can get someone else to help.”
And get someone she did. Fennelspot was rightly distracted by the new kits, but he saw all the details Clammask and Waspkit noticed earlier. It didn’t take much to get him to pack a basket with a few medical essentials and follow Clammask and Scrubmask out of camp.
Perhaps it was the leftover gloom of Harvest Moon’s scary stories. Perhaps it was Clammask’s own nagging worry about the story behind those three black kits. Whatever the case, RippleClan territory loomed around her as she and Scrubmask tried to pick up the hours-old trail of the unknown queen.
“Clammask,” Fennelspot gulped as the night pressed on, “there may not be a good trail left to find. It could be lost in old scents. StarClan knows where Shadowdrop and Wildclaw encountered the kits.”
“We can’t go back yet,” Clammask groaned. “Those kits need their mother.”
“All I’m saying is that we may not find her tonight,” Fennelspot pointed out. “It’s been well over half a day since the kits arrived at camp. It’s late, we’re tired, and Scrubmask still hasn’t found a scent.” Fennelspot motioned toward Scrubmask, who had gone ahead of the pair to better find a scent, but the cream and white molly was gone. “Scrubmask?”
“I found something,” Scrubmask called. Clammask and Fennelspot jogged through the thick tree lines and through the scrub. Scrubmask crouched beside a small nook at the base of a fir. Clammask could smell it now; the thick and heavy scent of birth. Carnationspeckle reeked of it for days after her kitting.
“You scared me for a moment, Scrubmask,” Fennelspot gulped. “I thought a Shadow claimed you! It is still technically Harvest Moon, don’t forget that.”
“I got distracted by the scent,” Scrubmask huffed, sniffing the ground around the tree. “There’s no mistaking this smell.”
“I was right!” Clammask cheered. “The kits are newborn! I knew they weren’t a few days old.”
“Neither of us disagreed,” Scrubmask pointed out. “You may be better off restraining your excitement. This has made things much harder for those kits.” Clammask settled down, clearing the cheer from her throat.
“The scent heads south,” Fennelspot pointed out.
“The queen could be making camp near our territory!” Clammask jogged along the scent’s trail. “Hurry!” Trying to outpace the fastest cats in RippleClan was a fruitless venture, but Scrubmask and Fennelspot matched Clammask’s speed, hurrying alongside her, tasting the air.
Before long, the southern horse path came into view. A distant monster thundered toward WheatClan territory. The soul-shaking shriek of the poor horse trapped by the monster may have been dulled by distance, but it still made Clammask shiver. A figure shifted in the quiet dark on the other side of the horse path. Their fur was so dark, Clammask couldn’t make out their features in the night.
“Hello?” Clammask called. “We’re from RippleClan. Did you just give birth?”
“Clammask, careful,” Scrubmask groaned as the younger molly hurried toward the horse path.
“We have your kits,” Clammask yowled, “We can reunite you! We brought our cleric, he can help you recover!” The figure stepped into better view. However, it was not the face of a tired queen, but rather an oh-so-familiar black kittypet.
“Froggy?” Scrubmask huffed, appearing at Clammask’s side. Froggy crept to the edge of the horse path. His paws were coated in dirt.
“You’re all too late,” Froggy growled. “She’s… she’s gone.” A mound of dirt rose up behind Froggy. The old kittypet stumbled back to the mound and laid on top of it. He turned his back to the group, his cheek pressed into the ground.
“I don’t understand,” Clammask muttered, mindlessly approaching the grave. “The trail… we followed it all the way from our territory. How could she get here if she…”
“Clammask,” Fennelspot whispered. He brushed against her and approached Froggy. He sat beside the kittypet and put his tail over Froggy’s back. “What was her name, Froggy?”
“Cinderella,” Froggy grumbled, turning away from the Clan cats. “Her name was Cinderella.”
“How did you know her?”
“She and her sister were born not far from my home. I’ve known her since she was a kit. I wasn’t going to let her waste away by the roadside.”
“That’s very noble of you.” Fennelspot looped around Froggy so he could meet his eyes. “Did you know Cinderella was expecting? Do you know what happened to her?”
“We think we have her kits,” Clammask huffed. “We think Shadowdrop is the father.”
“Shadowdrop?” Froggy’s head shot up. “He… that… that fox-hearted, manipulative…” Froggy shoved himself to his paws and glared at Clammask, sneering as he said, “He was the sire?”
“What do you know?” Scrubmask asked. She stood close to Clammask as Froggy’s fury smoked and sparked before them.
“She wanted to learn Clan skills,” Froggy growled, tail thrashing. “She knows you Clan cats can start fires and cure disease, she wanted to do those things too. She told me a Clan tom said if she had his kits, he would teach her anything she wanted to know. I only found out a few days ago. She wasn’t herself when her labor started. She ran off. Her sister asked me to find her, and when I did… I don’t know what went wrong, but Cinderella was in pain. She was trying to get home, and she only got so far…” Clammask’s fur burned with the same anger flowing through Froggy.
“Tell us everything you know,” Clammask growled. “If Shadowdrop and Wildclaw left your friend to die, I’ll make sure they’re punished.”
(Clammask: 33, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)
(Scrubmask: 56, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)
(Fennelspot: 96, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)
(Froggy: 108, male, kittypet, rebellious, maintains the territory, great speaker)
#warrior cats#clangen#rippleclan#warriors#rippleclan story#downstar#oilstripe#fennelspot#clammask#scrubmask#troutkit#tempestkit#mosskit#trumpetkit#waspkit#palekit#ripplekit#froggy#rustshade#shadowdrop#wildclaw#carnationspeckle#james
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Big brain idea: for Downstar and Smokestar (Bastardstar) since they sacrificed to the DF, their victims would end up there temporarily, so, for a little while, the df is drowning in kits, and everyone’s pissed at Webstripe bc they think the kits are his
is he even sure at this point?
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SUBMITTERS' CHARACTERS
Aloemist, Anteloperipple, Ashkit, Avery, Begonialeaf, Bella-May, Blightfrond, Bluedaisy, Bristleblaze, Brittlebite, Brokentongue, Brokenwhistle, Buckhackle, Buntinghoot, Cam, Campionpaw, Cherrykit, Cherrystar, Chickadeewhistle, Cody, Cookie + Nightfoot (joke submissions), Creekpaw, Crowstar, Cryfeather, Cypresspaw, Dahliahbreeze, Downstar, Droughtstar, Ducklingkit, Eggstep, Fireweaver, Flowerstar, Frondecho, Ginsengbloom, Gorsebriar, Hawkwhistle, Haypad (Haywild), Heronclaw, Hillfeather, Hiverose, Hollowhiss, Hollylion, Hoppaw, Houndtooth, Ivyburble, Ivyspots, Jackdawecho, Jacky, Lamb, Lampreypelt, Larchbee, Laureldawn, Lilywater, Lionclaw, Loachhowl, Lola, Lupinefrost, Madderblossom, Magpiepaw (Magpieshine), Mallowpelt, Mangleface, Moonshadow, Morningleaf, Mousespots, Mousethistle, Nettlefoot, Nudge, Ospreyhope, Palestone, Peanutfur, Perchpaw (Perchclaw), Pikespot, Possumpuddle, Pumpkinpatch, Redjay, Rosykit, Runningripple, Russetblossom, Sandfoot, Shallowsong, Shrikepaw, Shrikesquall, Smokeroot, Smokestar, Snowfoot, Sootpaw, Sparrowfreckle, Stonepaw (Stonefern), Streamfleck, Stubs, Stumpypaw, Sunnyshiver, Swantail, Tadpolemask, Tanagerwing, Tarspots, Tartail, Tawnypuddle, Vireopaw (Vireosong), Waxfeather, Whistler, Wildpaw (Haywild), Whimbrelshade, Willowruffle, Wordweaver, Wolfhaze, Wormkit, and Yewpool belong to @ambitiousauthor
Adderstar, Bristletail, and Burrcurl belong to @boogurl405
Cherrythorn and Nightleaf belong to @brokentranstar
Brightshade, Bubblelight, Cinderkit, Feathercloud, Flutterwhisper, Marrowpaw, Meadowstar, Mousenose, Orchidsmoke, Peachpaw, Spiderbite, Stormkit, and Wispkit belong to @bvnny-skvllz
Mothblaze belongs to @chillcatcryptid
Needlewhisker belongs to @chromaenthusiast
Axolotlpaw, Hiddensnake, Mantisstar, and Novice belong to @cosmosnaught
Ashflower, Doesong, Ferntuft, Flamebuck, Gusttalon, Oakstep, Sootspots, Sparktail, and Sparrowpaw belong to @elementaldeityoffood
Roachpelt belongs to @fly-whiskers
Blackstar, Breezefleck, Cavestar, Chasmmoor, Claudrat, Fogscar, Gingerstamp, Glaremouse, Hollowhusk, Limpetsong, Mousecrawl, Orangefluff, Palepaw, Pinestar, Redtree, Rimewhisker, Ripperclaw, Silentbrook, and Snipvoice belong to @frightnightindustries
Mallow belongs to @heartshapedpinksunglasses
Beargrowl, Daysoul, Goldenstar, Magpieleap, Marigoldsnake, Raceglint, Spiritstring, Spotgrowl, Springsoul, and Stardust belong to @indigo-flighty-falls
Belladonashade, Brokencry, Crowfang, Darkrose, Ferntangle, Minnowscale, Mintnettle, Rainsong, and Snowthicket belong to @jackisbored
Berrykit(Brokenkit/Lightkit), Butternut Squash (Shatteredbreeze), Copperpurr, Fadingstar, Ferretrunner, Foxflake, and Frostswan belong to @liberhoe
Beampaw, Butterflywing, Cedarstar/whisper, Glowingshadow/Cosine, Kindlepaw, Lunarpaw, Omentstar, and Sharkstar belong to @meowstival
Angelpaw, Batear, Darkbrush, Milkdud, Riverrush, Skullmoon, Treatpaw, Trickpaw, Whispkit, Whiteear, and Yippeepaw (joke submission) belong to @ribbonzregretz
Frostedjay belongs to @skyereadsandcommitsartcrimes
Loststar belongs to @soulofangst
Applecreek, Ashwhisper, Badgerkit, Birchflight, Cloudface, Cricketclaw, Cypresskit, Dewfall, Eelpaw, Foxfire, Frostwish, Ghostwatcher, Hollygorse, Lightningspring, Lighttail, Lilacheart, Morningsky, Motheyes, Needlepaw, Nightkit, Oakberry, Pebblekit, Pigeonfang, Pinedusk, Rookstorm, Sablefleck, Shademask, Snailstar, Tawnymoon, Tigerkit, Tinker Bell, Waspkit, and Webstripe belong to @starfalcon555
Brindlepaw, Carcasspelt, Clawbranch, Darkscar, Feathers, Giantstar, Honeyflower, Lemurgaze, Ricetail, Sparrowface, and Spottedstone (Oleandor) belong to @sunshadesfrozensky
Antleaves, Plumbee, and Runningbird belong to @sweetbirdydreams
Palemist and Shiverpaw belong to @the-bumbling-berry
Leopardshadow/star belongs to @the-crypid-moth
Buzzardstar, Cherrytail, and Icewing belong to @themainblogofsp20
Fleckthorn belongs to @vhs-warriors
Adalind (joke submission), Berrystar, Brownmouse, Cloudfang, Coyotetuft, Creaturefall, Crunchsnow, Fidgetguts, Fishkit, Fleathistle, Frostkit, Fungichomp, Goblingsnap, Goldfishfur, Gremlinfrost, Hollowstar, Hollykit, Honeypudding, Honeysuckle, Isopodbrain, Jellykit, Laughingmoss, Lioncatch, Molekit, Nightstar, Patchspring, Pinenutkit, Quickstar, Roseclaw, Shrikepollen, Smokefleck, Tawnykit, Timberstone, Turtlestepper, Whiteheart, and Wolfstar belong to @wills-woodland-warriors
Everyone else belongs to me, or had been residences until their submitter was blocked.
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theres a music class below my english class
there is also someone downstars laying the piano
very badly
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Tokyo Aliens spoiler/theories chapter 43
I am on a roll, I need to know ok? So you must suffer in seeing my spam.
What I can understand
The evil human that looks like a character from Tokyo Ghoul talks with another human who wore a mask. The masked-human show him a tiny bottle and the guy seem pleased. They are drinking and discussing of probably something about the previous attacks of aliens on earth. They likely are talking of Shou too, since he is more-or-less present in the flashes.
Shou wakes up with Meimei being in the bed with him, clinging to him.
Yuen comes home and is greeted by the vision of Shou making breakfast. Shou is likely apologizing for the intrusion in the house. They are in a shop downstar and Shou is helping as a chef/waiter I think.
Yuen show Shou a piece of paper with some lines and a credit card drawing.
Meimei came downstair and changed and bring them something to eat.
Two children appear at the table where they are sitting and comment on something, this something make Shou stand up and ask them a question. Then he worries for Akira.
The scene moves to Akira who was able to escape from his room, but he seems too weak to escape on his own. He thinks of Shou and get back his strengh to continue his escape. But he ends up peaking into the room of the beginning of the chapter with the evil man still inside, that sees him, and the chapter ends.
Theories/Comments
Meimei no, Yuen will not take it well I think. Or I am just projecting my ship too much lol.Anyway they live together and I am melting.
What is that drawing of lines supposed to be Yuen? T_T I don't understand. Maybe where Akira is held? But why is there a credit card too? T_T At least Shou seems as confused as me
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oh also sounds like my boss is coming back downstars so no more sillyposting from me but thanku all for being silly w me <3
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