An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Additional Tags: Fluff, Dream joins the antarctic commune, Post-Prison Arc (Dream SMP)
Series: Part 1 of Rivalsduo Spooktacular 2025
Summary:
Rivalsduo Spooktacular (hosted by loyalcrowlist) week one:
Prompt: Full Moon/Long Walk At Midnight
Dream tries to go on a walk alone. Techno won't let him leave without company.
Okay I know it’s a day late but here’s my first minific for the Rivalsduo Spooktacular! It’s not much but I think I’ll get more funky with it as time goes on and I get back into the swing of things.
I feel a lot for her. She is like, the most endearing background character in the series and I honestly don’t think the Erins even intended that. Even despite her hardships, she’s never as mentioned in Thunderclan/the clans in general after she dies. Sure, Leafpool is sad and thinks about her constantly, but that was mostly written as foreshadowing for Cinderheart. Of course, when she dies, Littlecloud is described as becoming sad. But after that, we get nothing. So let’s talk about her for a while, yeah?
Cinderpelt, alongside her brother, gets kidnapped by a shadowclan cat. She is saved by the former MC of said clan, and her future mentor. She is a happy little thing, always willing to help and eager to prove herself. This eagerness and willingness prove to almost be her doom. She becomes depressed, finds happiness when she is once again saved (in a metaphorical and literal sense) by the grumpy Medicine cat that had once been Shadowclan.
She is happy. Then her former mentor (and currently a good friend) runs to her asking for help. A queen is having trouble during birth, she is Riverclan please dont freak out, so she goes and helps. Its her duty. Then the queen dies, under Cinderpaw’s watch, and she’s so heartbroken about it and so apologetic. But you saved the kits, her friend insists, but thats not enough, is it. Her brother’s mentor is now heartbroken, devastated, and because she couldn’t save a cat her friend, her former mentor, will lose his best friend. Because she couldn’t save her, and he chooses his kits over his clan, and Cinderpaw understands. He will be a great father you can tell, and she is so, so sorry.
Then a fire happens. Cinderpaw evacuates with the clan, saves as any herbs as she can, and when she sees orange pelt among orange flames with a kitten in his jaws, and she cannot see her mentor, she understands, too. She understands when Fireheart catches Yellowfang’s last breath, and she understands when she hears what Yellowfang tells him. It doesn’t hurt, but Cinderpelt is jealous that she wasn’t the one who spoke to her last, and shes disappointed in herself because maybe if she had been faster she could’ve saved her mentor just as she had saved her twice before. Cinderpaw finishes her training on her own, and when she becomes Cinderpelt, her heart aches with the knowledge that her leader does not trust her despite the fact they both had been wronged and hurt by the same horrible cat. She never lets the image of the clans be tainted in her mind, and she hides and helps two cats from Shadowclan who anyone else would have left for dead. She saves them, finds the cure to their sickness- isnt that just wonderful? Making up for the fact she let her mentor and a queen die by saving a whole clan? In the end, Cinderpelt doesn’t ask for a payment, she lets those apprentices be as they are. She never even asks for credit, but Shadowclan knows who their savior is and cherish her like their own, though their pride would never allow it. Her act inspired Littlepaw, and he becomes a MC apprentice. He looks up to her.
When the forest is crumbling all around her and she knows they must go when the travellers return, its her who has to convince Firestar to leave the territory behind. She knows, no- she understands- that he is waiting for his best friend, his companion to everything, to return. Though in her heart she knows Graystripe to be well, it is hard to convince others otherwise. But its for the good of the clans, this isnt just about Firestar. This is about survival of their ways, survival of the young. Shrewpaw had already died before his time, please dont let that happen to any other cat. The journey is long but she bonds with the other medicine cats and warriors like she never had before, and she finds to be in peace. It’s a relief when Leafpaw finds the Moonpool and everyone can finally settle, but it is sad that they will have to part.
It takes a few moons, but she receives it- not a prophecy, but a promise. She will die, Starclan has told her she will. They refuse to say when, or how, but they know she will and they want her to know it. For what? Because they were the ones who set her path so she would be a medicine cat? Why did they have to cause her suffering? Why do they have to mingle with those who still live? Cinderpelt has never felt so angry and so alone, and yet all she finds within herself is to lower her head and accept it. Yellowfang is among those who tell her, and she sees no sorrow in her eyes or even a hint of sympathy.
Cinderpelt wants to hate her, but she understands. She understands this is beyond her mentor, that this is something Yellowfang had to endure.
She tries to make it count, she really does. But then she breaks at Leafpool and hate Spottedleaf more than she ever had before when her apprentice is gone, gone and she can’t even begin to look or ask for guidance because as far as she knows Starclan is just waiting for her inevitable death. If they warned her- maybe it was because they knew Leafpool would not come back. So Cinderpelt spends time with good Firestar, her mentor once upon a time, her rescuer in her dreams, the flame which saved the forest, her best friend. But even good old Firestar has his moments, and his worry for his daughter leaves her with no time to tell him how much he means to her, and how much he helped her. She spends time with her brother, with her sister- and Brackenfur is excited enough for his kits that he talks to her endlessly for hours, and the only thing Cinderpelt thinks is how she will miss his laughter, and will he miss her too? The medicine cat doesnt eat unless forced, her worry for her apprentice and the possible future lack of a medicine cat for thunderclan sickens her by the day.
She starts to think this is how shes supposed to go until- well, until badgers storm into their camp and try to claim everyone as their victim, until theres too many badgers for so few cats, until there’s a badger with so much hate in its eyes she could suffocate. She believes her fate is to die from sickness until a badger stands by her and desperately tries to claim the queen and her kits. When the blow to the neck finally comes and she can’t carry her weight anymore, she thinks about how much it hurts. When she hears and scents and feels Leafpool, her whole body hurts so much. Cinderpelt says words she is not sure she still believes in, and she is so so happy that she can see Leafpool one last time.
When she goes, and is offered a body, she feels guilty. She feels this is wrong. She watches her brother mourn, she watches leafpool mourn, and she watches Firestar as he carries on. Did he mourn her? Did Sandstorm mourn, too? Cinderpelt is not sure she knows the answer anymore. All she knows is to control a life that is not her own, until she feels so guilty about it that she lets go. Then its like she was never relevant before.
Ramblings: I haven’t written in years and have little will to live, let alone improve my writing style or edit... nevertheless,,, here’s the start of that fic based off of this prompt list. Bother me incessantly if you want more, I typically only do this sort of thing for my own self indulgence. Roman and Virgil are in a kind of ambiguous relationship, that may change, I plan to have eventual logicality as well. Thank you a lot if you read, lemme know what you think, it’d mean a lot <3
oh, also, it’s g/t, I’m weak what can I say
CW’s: slight arguing, starvation mention, slight language warning, mortal fear, panic, slight exhaustion, feeling/thinking one is dying, somewhat graphic imagination of one’s death
Enjoy!..or don’t, same honestly.
“We have to get the thread. One of our hooks has already broken!” Virgil had whisper-yelled, stopping in front of the sewing box that reached higher than both borrowers stacked atop each other.
“Virgil, for the last time, we’re already running late, and we just replaced the one that broke!” Roman barely slowed, passing his borrowing partner without hesitation. “We can get it next time, we have to leave.”
Roman felt a tugging on his arm and turned back to see a frustrated pale face lightly glaring at him. Virgil said, “But we won’t be able to if mine or the replacement breaks beforehand, and then we’ll just have to pray the right amount gets dropped or starve to death!”
Roman rolled his eyes and tore his arm away. “We won’t starve. It’s one day, and if one of the humans come home early, we’ll be dead by their hands, and I feel like both of us would hate that much more. Now,” He turned heel, not even looking back, “get your ass in gear and join me before then!” He walked to the entrance behind the coffee maker, loaded his supplies into the hole, and only then did he look back. To his exasperation, Virgil was not only not right beside him, he had somehow hoisted himself up to lean over the edge of the box, looking in and grabbing for something within. He planted his hand to his forehead, feeling a stress headache coming. He was about to yell something to chastise, when the sound of keys fumbling outside the apartment made his heart stop. He looked up in time to see his black-clad friend staring in the direction of the noise with unabashed horror writ in his features.
Immediately, Roman was on the move. He sprinted the distance from the entrance to the box, which was far too long for his taste in this situation. Virgil was struggling to get down, the box bending under his weight, making his footing uneven and giving him next to nothing to grab or push to get himself out alone. Roman heard the click of the lock and doubled his efforts, eventually skidding to a halt just beneath Virgil’s frantically swinging legs. He could hear Virgil’s panicked breaths from here, and his heart jumped in protective panic. “I’ve got you, come on, Star!” The lower borrower hissed, trying and failing to latch onto the makeshift shoes on the other’s feet. Just as Virgil had wiggled enough for Roman to reach a strap of his boot, both heard the damning sound of the front door opening. They only had a few seconds to get back, and the run over would take just over that time if they were lucky. With a harsh yank, Virgil tumbled onto the countertop and upon Roman with a huff. The pair didn’t have time for pain, though, and immediately, Virgil stood and beat it for the opening. Roman wasn’t far behind, at least, at first. However, the running over and jumping and yanking had taken a bit out of the small man, and adrenaline could only go so far. He was substantially slower, and just as Virgil ducked behind the kitchen apparatus, a bespectacled man in a dark blue tie rounded the corner into the kitchen, then almost instantly locked eyes with Roman, who was only half the distance to the entrance. Roman caught a second wind and used the man’s stunned pause to his full advantage. He got tunnel vision, all that mattered was what was in front of him, the coffee maker and the entrance and his friend’s arms, waving him over desperately. Every cell in his body burned, but he couldn’t stop, not if he wanted to live to feel anything again. Finally, he was almost there, just a few more moments, if he just jumps-!
*
Logan couldn't believe his eyes as he turned into the kitchen and saw a tiny humanoid standing on the counter. His shock could only last so long before instinct kicked in as he saw the man booking it towards his fridge and coffee maker. The little thing was fast, but Logan covered the distance between himself and the creature just as it was ducking for the wall. Without thought, Logan’s hands dropped his keys and shot out in front of him, trapped the creature between his fingers.
*
Roman whimpered involuntarily. The air was knocked out of him, his vision blurred, and he could feel immovable heat clasped around him, no doubt ready to squeeze the life out of him. He closed his eyes, the world around him fuzzing out as all he felt was panic, panic, panic panic panicpanicpanicpanic-
*
Logan blinked at the thing in his hands, slightly shocked he actually managed to catch it. He felt something akin to wonder, similar to when a child manages to catch a firefly for the first time, surprised at his dexterity. Within the moment, though, he raised it to his eyes, still not quite believing what they were seeing: a tiny man wrapped in white and red patchwork, in a sort of makeshift poncho, or at least a long shirt. The whole body couldn’t have been longer than ⅔ of his outstretched hand, wrist to fingers. His hair was dark brown and slightly matted, with sweat, Logan realized. At the same time as that registered, Logan became cognizant of the state of the creature. He could feel it’s panting and shaking, see it’s face contorted in distress, and hear small whines every exhale it seemed to make. It’s terrified, he recognized with a start. He looked around for a moment, then began to take his newfound specimen to the couch in order to hopefully allow it to feel a bit more secure rather than have it dangling five feet off the hard tile floor.
*
Roman was distantly aware that he was moving through the air in the human’s hands, but his senses were barely functional at this point. He heard someone, maybe it was himself, yelling, but he couldn’t be sure. His head was filled with static, and he couldn’t feel his limbs. Is this what it felt like to die? Was he being crushed to death, or had the human decided to toss him into a wall and watch him splatter like a fly on the window? Would Virgil make it without him? Would Virgil do something stupid out of vengence or sorrow? His world was darkening, and he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. He wanted his last thoughts to be of Virgil, of their friendship, of their happiness. At a loss, he sobbed out, “I’m sorry!” before finally succumbing to whatever the human had done to him.
