Hi hi hi!
Random writing inspiration hit once again, so I decided to write something for Fernpaw. (A roleplay character for anyone who's somehow not in Fallenclan) But uh yeah, I feel like I don't write much for him so I thought that I'd give something a try and it turned out a lot better than I thought lmao
But just for clarification, I don't think Moonstorm was as bad as this one-shot portrays her to be, I'm just writing from Fernpaw's perspective
Also all the quotes used in the story are actual quotes from the roleplay, just wanted to clarify that I was not making up any of them :)
Anyways uh here is thing
CW: Mention of manipulation, repeated words, discussion of death, swearing
Nighttime was for sleeping, yet he was wide awake.
Fernpaw let out a forlorn sigh, flipping to the other side of his nest, staring up at the glint of stars that made it through the cover of the apprentice's den.
It was thoughts that kept him up at night, the thoughts that made him freeze, almost, and made him scared.
Fernpaw didn't like being scared.
Fernpaw didn't like freezing either, so the thoughts spent most of their time buried in the back of his head, covered up by false confidence and hatred for most of the cats that he had met in his, again, short life.
But here, in the middle of the night, it was harder to shove them back in his conscience. If something was hard, Fernpaw ended up hating it more.
If something hurt, Fernpaw hated that too.
And right now, things did hurt. Moonstorm's desolate sighs and inability to try hurt. Dovepaw's death had hurt. Stoneleaf leaving hurt, so much. It hurt so much that Fernpaw almost couldn't take it, a wave of hurt from one of those oceans that Sprucepaw had talked about. Crashing down in a frothy mess of heartbreak and pain that no one wanted to talk about.
He didn't want to talk to his siblings about it either. He could list why they wouldn't care. Briarpaw was too good, Specklepaw wouldn't understand, Acornpaw wouldn't listen, Falconpaw didn't even talk to him. He was alone.
You wanted to be alone when you were younger. A voice in his head whispered.
Shut up, voice. He shot back.
Nettlepaw wouldn't really get it either. He had a brother who he was close with, and parents, at least, adopted parents.
Parents that still love each other because Starclan knows that mine probably never did-
He wished it'd just shut up.
So he just sat, and watched. He shut up, just like Moonstorm had told him to.
Maybe she'd finally be proud of her son, her silent son who despised her with everything that he had-
Pfft, not Moonstorm. Not the cat with all the issues and all the excuses and all the "Stoneleaf I can't fix him so it's your job to fix him now, he's not adorable and quiet like all my kits should be-"
"Just, please, stop talking Fernkit."
"Sometimes it's better to say nothing at all."
Even if the memory was moons old by now, it still stung like salt on a wound. It was, in a way. The wound, the memory that Moonstorm would rather have a son who didn't act like he did, who didn't say what he said, who would adore her and pretend that she didn't make mistakes, mountains of mistakes that covered their entire family in tears and fake apologies-
"Do you really think I don't care about you?"
Moonstorm's voice rang through his head again, and he audibly groaned, burrowing farther into his nest as if he could escape it if he ran far enough.
But he couldn't, because Moonstorm was always there with her lies and her tears that were spilled for nothing. And he was there too, trying not to maul her to death with his claws.
His claws, his words, weren't they the same thing? Instead of caving to the pressure of being someone that Moonstorm liked he had built walls, so high that she could never reach the top.
Keep her out. Keep the tears out, and the lies. Keep your tears out, and you'll be fine.
His eyes grew wet, and he felt the fur under his eyes sag with the weight of a tear, trailing down his face.
But Fernpaw didn't cry. That's not how he handled things. Not how he taught himself to handle things.
Stop crying.
Stop crying.
Shut up.
StopcryingstopstopstopstopstopstopSHUTUP-
But they kept coming. Like the wave of heartbreak and pain, he was drowning in the water that no one wanted to talk about.
He grit his teeth, trying to summon some sort of anger, some sort of indignance, or annoyance. His defense, the only defense he had.
Maybe he just needed a walk. That was it. A walk in the middle of the night, a walk to figure out a new way to stuff his feelings in again. A beneficial walk, in a way.
Slipping out of the apprentice's den, he headed out of camp silently, the moonlight illuminating the path in front of him that so many cats had treaded already. He'd bet that he wasn't the first cat heading out of camp at ungodly hours of the night to try to breathe a little easier.
Sometimes he imagined a normal life. A life where he had parents like Sparrowpaw's, who loved each other and loved him. Well, Stoneleaf loved him.
"Do you really think I don't care about you?"
Moonstorm loved him when it was convenient.
"I just want you to know that...you can talk to me. I'm your mother, it's what I'm here for."
Starclan, she was such a liar.
Yeah, Sparrowpaw definitely had it better.
He continued through the forest, the swishing of his tail disturbing the undergrowth that lurked beneath the bushes.
"I just want to have a mother-son relationship with you!"
He stood up straight, looking around almost fearfully. He wasn't dreaming, right?
Fernpaw didn't have nightmares.
Fernpaw didn't have nightmares.
Then why was the shadow of his broken family hiding around every corner and in everything that he looked at? Why couldn't he block it out or ignore it or at least build the walls higher. Had he run out of anger, of indignation, of annoyance?
He couldn't be. That was literally his only defining trait.
He was a bitch. He had been called a bitch, and Pebblestep had been right when he had said it.
But he had been able to utilize it. Make everyone believe it, including him.
It was almost as if Stoneleaf leaving had made something in him leave too. His confidence, maybe, or his exemplary ability to block things out. He didn't know where they had gone, but he wished they'd come back. He felt safer with them around.
He had felt safer with Stoneleaf around, and not Moonstorm. Not Moonstorm who sulked in every corner of camp where he used to. Not Moonstorm who lied and lied and lied and lied and lied-
Why was Stoneleaf gone? Why did she leave him?
Why did Moonstorm try to care about him now? Why was it like the tide, another thing that Sprucepaw told him about. Why was it only there sometimes and then gone the next?
Why did she keep trying to make an effort with fake apologies and tears that reeked of guilt tripping?
"Because you're my son, Fernkit."
Her son.
No. He wasn't. He couldn't be.
He was her child, but not her child. No, Briarpaw was her child. And Acornpaw. And Falconpaw and Specklepaw and Dovepaw and even dead fucking Birchkit who had been dead for moons already.
But not him. He wasn't. He couldn't.
PleasepleasepleaseIdontwannabeyourson-
I don't want to be your son.
I don't want to look at you.
I don't want to talk to you.
I don't want to be like you.
He knew why Stoneleaf left now. Sometimes he heard the way that other cats talked about Moonstorm, and then looked at him, as if her personality traits had crossed over to him. As if he was associated with her.
The problem was, he was. By the color of his fur and the coldness of his eyes. From the way cats said that he took after his mother.
Honestly, they could say whatever they wanted, but not that. He didn't want to be associated with her. If it was possible, he'd have changed his fur and his eyes already. Any way to cut the strings that connected him and his manipulative mother.
"I love you."
Please go away.
"But I love you."
Pleasepleasepleasegoaway-
"I love you."
Fernpaw jolted up with a hiss, and bolted through the forest, twigs and leaves catching on his fur. He tried to fill his ears with the sound of his own breath so that they couldn't hear the lies that echoed in his head.
He skidded to a stop near a random tree, his paws churning up dirt, and climbed it quickly, claws scratching desperately on the bark as he heaved himself up.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, he bent over, blinking back the tears that had slipped into his eyes.
You don't cry.
Why couldn't Moonstorm just leave? Forever? Disappear like Birchkit and Dovepaw did?
Like Stoneleaf did?
"I want you to like me."
She wanted him to like her, but she didn't like him. She didn't like the way that he snapped back and the backhanded insults that he threw like stones. She didn't like the way he wouldn't curl up beside her when she asked him to, she didn't like the way he didn't like her.
"If you don't want me to care about you...to love you...or to be your mother, then I won't."
He remembered the fake desolation that had been in her eyes when she had said that, the way that for a moment, he had felt bad. Only a moment, but it had still been there.
He hadn't liked her, that was true. He still didn't like her. But there was still a horrible, desperate part of him that wanted her to care about him, to love him. But that wasn't possible. It wasn't possible because he was the way he was, and she was the way she was. And because of that, there was no combination between the two that would result in any kind of real love.
"I just… I don't know how to talk to you."
Because he wasn't funny like Briarpaw.
Because he wasn't chatty like Acornpaw.
Because he wasn't kind like Specklepaw.
Because he wasn't gentle like Falconpaw.
Because he was himself, and he wasn't funny, or chatty or kind or gentle. He wasn't the kit that she'd show off to everyone and they'd coo, and go, "Wow, your kit is so cute! You're such a good mother."
But he wasn't cute, and she wasn't a good mother.
Letting out a forlorn sigh, he heaved himself to his paws, leaping down from the tree. Looking around cautiously, he held his breath, almost afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows.
He wasn't scared, of course. Right?
He wasn't scared of the dark, or what was in it. He was scared of the feeling it gave him, the feeling that made him want to scream and cry at the same time. It was the feeling that he felt when Stoneleaf left.
When Dovepaw died.
When Moonstorm-
When she said all of that.
He decided to start trekking back towards camp, shoulders sagging with the burden of his own thoughts.
"I love you."
It was all a lie.
If he could wish for one thing, one thing only, he wished that the roles were reversed. That Moonstorm was the one who was out of sight, gone forever, and Stoneleaf was the one that was here.
Starclan, he missed his father.
Stoneleaf had helped Fernpaw keep his walls up, in her own indirect way. He had felt safe with Stoneleaf, sheltered from the voice that plagued his thoughts and the thoughts that creeped through the barriers to his feelings.
But now he was gone, and Moonstorm wasn't, and there was no one to protect him now. The thought made him shiver, but it was true.
He was alone.
You wanted to be alone when you were younger.
Fernpaw didn't say anything back.
—-
Nettlepaw probably wouldn't notice anything the next morning, when Fernpaw awoke in his nest with leaves and twigs still tangled in his fur.
Fernpaw barely remembered the previous night himself. The thoughts that had spilled out of him had been shoved back yet again, trapped behind a dam of sarcasm and indifference that didn't exist.
But at least Moonstorm's voice had gone away again, even if that was temporary.
But everything was temporary. Stoneleaf staying in Fallenclan, for instance, or Dovepaw's life.
Or even the amount of time his walls could hold before they too, broke, unleashing a flood of heartbreak and pain.
A wave, towering over his head, that he couldn't stop from crashing down.
But it's okay. No one would know anyways. He'd keep it quiet, shut up just like he had been told to.
"Sometimes it's better to say nothing at all."
Anyways uh yeah there is thing take your Minty content before I go back into the void
Uh go write your gay cat fanfiction I believe in you
-Mintyflight