siffrin/sif/forrest - he/they || i dunno just cool wc stuff (stupid pfp by me lmao)
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MOOSEFALL DESERVES TO BE HAPPY. PLEASE
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hi!! i know you wanted asks abt your oc bloomingstar ages ago im v late so i hope this isnt annoying FJEKDJ but i really adore them!
how did they get their scars? do they have any family past or present? partner/s? :0
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING! it's not annoying at all, i appreciate this so much!
How did they get their scars? - Bloomingstar's most notable scar is the sun-shaped one on their forehead. This is a self-inflicted wound they gave to themselves during a manic episode after becoming leader. They had become leader very early after almost their entire clan perished in a fire, and they felt as if their warriorhood was ripped away from them. They carved a sun into their forehead as a permanent reminder of their warrior name--Bloomingsun. The rest of their scars are from confrontations with animals or gashes from scraping against branches or rocks. They got pretty badly scuffed up when escaping the fire years ago, and also have poor mobility, often bumping into things. Do they have any family past or present? - Unfortunately, Bloomingstar's parents and sister died years ago in the fire. So did the leader, Buzzardstar, a father figure to them. As of right now, though, they take pride in caring for their deputy, Lilyleap. They see her as the daughter they never had and love her so, so much. They can't wait to meet their grandkits! Lilyleap is Bloomingstar's primary caretaker and the acting leader of SpringClan (since, even though Bloomingstar denies it, they're much too feeble to even care for themselves properly). They love each other a lot:-) Do they have any partners? - Bloomingstar has had a really troubled life, and never had time to focus on building a romantic relationship with another cat. Their main regret is never starting a family--but they have Lilyleap now, and truly see her as their daughter. They're very excited to meet Lilyleap's unborn kits, and that's family enough for them!
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by the way this is the procedure to get out of gaza
it costs 5k USD per adult and 2.5k USD per child
if you want to raise this money via GOFUNDME it has to be arranged by someone who is NOT living in Palestine because GFM does not release money to Palestine. GFM also verifies every detail so it has to be accurate so you need someone who is out of Palestine and also familiar with the bureaucracy.
once you raise the money one of your FIRST ORDER RELATIVES have to deposit this money IN CASH and IN PERSON at the Cairo offices of a company called hala. this person cannot be a Palestinian male under 40 because they are not allowed to be Egypt without a permit
once you pay the money you have to WAIT for your names to be published by Egyptian military at the Rafah crossing and the you have 24 hours to get out
it is a very long and convoluted process that is impossible for most Palestinians who do not have contacts in other counties. Please please donate to the GFMs you see floating around because they’ve been verified and this is only the first step in an arduous journey. Once in Cairo, Palestinians aren’t allowed to work so they need money for their support also.
DONATE TO GAZAFUNDS.COM
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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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i have a former loner who showed up named first generation ipod and it makes everything ten times funnier
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only god can write this script
“I’m, uh,” Lionblaze mutters, his tail sweeping behind him, “sorry for your loss.”
You would be, wouldn’t you, Dovewing doesn’t say, because she’s ex-ThunderClan, because she’s ex-propechized, because his sister died for hers and because he’d wanted to kill her son, because she’s the leader’s mate, because her feelings about the cat who practically kidnapped her from her family to raise as a substitute for another are complicated and thorny at best. “Thank you,” she says at last, like she’s expected to. The diplomacy Tawnypelt has spent so long teaching her tastes rotten on her tongue.
Lionblaze wipes his mouth with one paw. Dovewing’s sister is ThunderClan’s deputy now, not him. She wonders how he feels about it. She wonders whether he thinks Hollyleaf should be there instead. She wonders if, just as she had been, Ivypool is just another substitute for a black cat with too-sharp eyes, too much potential. All wasted, of course, because StarClan was nothing if not good at wasting.
She wishes she knew why the she-cats suffered most. She wishes she didn’t know that they did.
She wishes Rowankit had been born a tom, sometimes, in her darkest moments. If he had, he wouldn’t be dead. “Simple as that,” she’d said to Ivypool last Gathering.
“Simple as that,” Ivypool had echoed, hollow. Bristlefrost had died for — what, exactly? So that more toms could live? So that the she-cat didn’t get the happy ending?
“There are never any happy endings for us,” Hollyleaf had murmured to her the morning of her death. The implication had been clear. Dovewing had stared at the only cat who ever understood her with wide, dry eyes until Hollyleaf had set her chin on Dovewing’s head, and then she’d been helpless not to lean in, a sob rattling her chest as she did.
“I approve,” Sorreltail had grinned at her as Briarlight had hissed defiance at the idea of being evacuated.
“Do I need it?” Dovewing had wondered.
“No,” Sorreltail had answered, simple as anything. “If it’s Briarlight, wonderful. But if there lies something for you outside of these borders — take it. Take it and never look back.”
It was the last time she had spoken to Sorreltail until she was cleaning her blood off of Lilykit and Seedkit as another panic swept over the camp. And even then, she was only speaking to a corpse, reassuring a cat who wasn’t there anymore that her kits would be okay.
(And Seedpaw had drowned to keep a stick — the closest memory of her mother she had — in ThunderClan’s possession. Dovewing had wept that night, inconsolable. Another daughter lost to the memory of her mother, a mother who had died because she had been expected to be a mother before a warrior, a mother despite the worst of wounds. A beaver’s dam bursts and is built again, over and over, until Dovewing’s coat drips with invisible blood.)
“Nursery work isn’t simple,” Ferncloud had smiled once, taking her through each task. Her demeanor was gentle, but the undercurrent was hard. Bumblepaw hadn’t taken this lesson. She knew that Lionblaze hadn’t, either.
“Why us?” Dovepaw had asked, looking up at her.
Ferncloud’s gaze, fixed on a point deep in the den, snapped to hers as if pulled there. “Because it’s only us,” she had said after a moment.
Less than a year later, Dovewing would step through Ferncloud’s blood to block a Dark Forest shade, all murk and mire and claws made of filth, from taking a bite out of her corpse.
“Don’t have another litter,” Lionblaze says now, callous in his way. “It never ends well for us.”
She knows — oh, does she ever know — that. No one star-touched could get away with a second litter, not if the stars had touched you young, even if they took the blessings they’d given away. Lionblaze’s first litter had led unremarkable lives — Hollytuft, despite her namesake, was quiet and unobtrusive; Fernsong had stepped a little farther than his bounds with Ivypool (and had paid for it, perhaps, with their daughter drowning in a lake made of rot); and Sorrelstripe’s history seemed to begin and end with her own litter (another dam, rising high; Dovewing looks away, now, because the alternative hollows her chest with rhythmic scraping of dulled teeth — pain comforted by pain). But the second? Two of them kittypets, the third an active rebel who had lost her mate to her own leader’s claws? A gentle fate, all told. They were all still alive, but what did that matter to him? Did the shame of having two living kittypet children outweigh the idea that both were alive, that both were happy, that he could visit them if he cared to?
“He shouldn’t have allowed it,” Jayfeather had said, his blind eyes staring into Dovewing’s soul.
“I shouldn’t have allowed it,” Lionblaze had said, anger toying at the end of every word.
But Dovewing had wanted, and now her tiny, perfect son is dead. “I won’t,” she says, hoarse. After all, she hadn’t ever been allowed to want. What had she expected? That StarClan would grant mercy to one who had only ever done their bidding?
“Guess some of us have to learn our lessons,” Lionblaze mutters. He scratches at an ear and averts his gaze from the direction of ShadowClan’s medicine den when someone stirs within.
Dovewing wonders if she can muster up the energy to be truly angry. She wants to be so badly, like one might want to escape sharpened claws dipped into soft flesh, but it’s hard to muster in this cruel, gray world without her son, with only callous gods to stare down at her. “Guess so,” she says, and wonders which god wrote this script she’s living. Her losses burn hot in her throat, the injustices as cold as ice, but Lionblaze could never fathom a story more unhappy than his own. “I guess so.”
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bloomingstar is my favorite oc yet i didn't have a ref for them so here it is...them in the flesh...
bloomingstar is the leader of springclan, a fanmade clan that fits in with three other season themed clans! they may look grumpy but they're just old and still kicking!
i have SOO much to say abt them but i'd rather say it in bits and pieces rather than a huge wall of text so feel free to ask abt them or ask them questions, i need to draw them more anyways since they're always in my head but never on my canvas
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warrior cats fans will be like "oh my god i fucking hate him he makes me sick to my stomach he is so revolting and twisted i hope he dies a horrible death"
and then this is who they're talking about:
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I love warrior cats so much bec they are silly little kitty cats. Despite everything, despite all the horrors, they fucking look like this -
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"There's no good way to end this, anyone can see; There's just great big you, And little old me."
@forgotten-elegy
#HOLY FUCK#THIS IS AMAZING#i dont know anything about this roleplay but i DO know this is awesome art#warrior cats
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if your requests are open, can you draw runningnose
runningnose for you!
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ShoalClan - “In The Tides There Is Strength”
The only remaining Clan after the Vanishing, ShoalClan was historically regarded as rather timid and soft-hearted, as they tended to avoid conflict and didn't have much of a relationship with their neighbors. The other Clans generally agreed that ShoalClan was aloof and thought themselves better than everyone, but had no real skills to prove that belief. ShoalClan was unaware of this perspective. Quite simply, they had no interest in the near-constant battles the other Clans kept having.
ShoalClan was named for the shallow water and submerged sandbank they live near. They were often very sociable and tended to move in small groups. Before the Vanishing, it was uncommon to see a ShoalClan cat entirely on their own. The Clan's motto, “In The Tide There Is Strength”, refers to how nearly unstoppable they are when working as one. Perhaps their most important cultural trait was how closely knit they were. ShoalClan cats aren't known for handling solitude very well.
When trading between the Clans, ShoalClan’s specialties were seashells, turtle eggs, crabs, sea holly, and sea thrift. They also had access to seaweed and seagrass, though these were less popular among the other Clans as they found them smelly and repulsive.
ShoalClan cats believe that the dead find new life as jellyfish- specifically moon jellies. In order for the soul to find new life, the body has to be brought to the very edge of the territory where the water is deepest. Otherwise the spirit gets stuck on land, unable to move on or let go, reliving their final moments over and over again for eternity.
The two known leaders of the Clan are Otterstar (now deceased) and Willetwish. Otterstar's deputy and healer were Sealwhisker and Mumblespark respectively. Willetwish has no deputy, as she has yet to declare the fact that she has nine lives, but her healer as of now is Storkpaw.
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wheatpaw & magnoliakit!
two characters from a rp i'm in! (i own wheatpaw!) he's a very happy-go-lucky guy and is best friends with this lil kit. they play pretend together and they rule the clan in their free time
just a doodle i think but they're such cuties needed to share the propaganda
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been inspired by other clangen blogs so i’m starting to draw my new clan (to hopefully remember more of my cats and get better at drawing them) :3
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