#tw shock mention

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,191 Words

Summary: Ruin fails. Furrily?

Warnings: Death (mentioned), Near Death (mentioned), Crying, Angst, Shock, Cursing, Trauma, Newborn Kitten Care (aka helping them eat and go to the bathroom), let me know if I should add anything else.

Multiversal Kittening?

"I don't wanna go…" Solar muttered as he felt his body deteriorating, changing, turning into something like dust.

"You don't have to!" Moon insisted, holding onto Solar's arms as they deteriorated and Moon's hands slipped through the air they used to be in as Solar felt darkness fall around him.

Moon stared at where he's slipped through, falling onto his face on the ground as he fell through where Solar had stood and ended him up onto the ground. Moon was hyperventilating still, body shaking as he tried to keep himself together, oil-based tears sliding down his face and staining the blue and silver surface of his faceplate with the clearish-amber tears.

Moon stayed on the ground, not wanting to get up as he heard Sun screaming something, Moon couldn't hear what Sun was saying, everything he heard was ringing, his audio sensors were muffled by something, his processors were buffering, something was wrong. Something was wrong and Moon couldn't move or think or hear.

Moon felt someone touching his shoulder and finally managed to pick his head up to see his twin shaking his arm to get him to respond, shaking Moon out of his shock. Sun was in tears too.

"Moon!" Sun urged his twin back. Moon looked to be in shock on the floor, face down and unmoving. Now that Sun had shaken him, Moon did look like he was recovering a little bit.

"Moon, sit up. Be careful." Sun guided Moon to sit up against the nightstand and Moon gazed at him, tears still not stopping but Sun knew it was better for his brother to just cry than bottle it up.

"Sun…" Moon muttered.

"I'm here. It's okay. Moon, it's okay." Sun told him.

"He's dead." Moon reminded his twin. Nothing was okay. Solar was dead, their brother was dead, Moon's best friend was dead.

"I know." Sun sighed softly. Sun then whipped his head to the side and Moon's head followed, looking at Ruin moving. "Don't you fucking move!" Sun snarled at Ruin.

"I will not. I surrendered." Ruin told them cheerily, sitting on the bed. While Sun was busy glaring at Ruin, Moon felt something against his right leg between his leg and Sun's. Moon looked down at it and saw a tiny little kitten. Did Sun get a new cat?

It looked like a newborn kitten with calico fur with the face half orange on the right and half black on the left with it's body swirled throughout with orange, black, and white fur. Its eyes were still closed, ears still curled and it was wriggling against his leg, bonking his leg softly with its tiny head to get his attention.

The kitten gave a tiny squeak of a meow and rolled on its side as it lost its balance and flopped onto its side on the floor, exposing the black and white belly it had with an Eclipse symbol on its belly. Moon's eyes widened as he saw the symbol. Solar? Was Solar a kitten?

"Moon? Moon!" Sun was looking at Moon again before looking down at the kitten and Sun's eyes widened too. "Solar?" Sun whispered as his hands carefully scooped the tiny kitten into them, cradling him away from the wood floor in his hands. The tiny kitten was so small that he fit into only one of Sun's hands and it squirmed a bit, squeaking and demanding attention and warmth.

"Is that Solar?" Moon asked softly.

"I think so." Sun admitted as he showed the kitten to Moon, whose tears began falling faster again as he looked at the kitten.

"What…?" Ruin muttered, looking over the kitten, who wriggled in Sun's hands as if attempting to get to Moon.

"Moon, he's getting cold and your engine is warmer than mine." Sun told his twin. Moon raised a shaky hand, terrified of hurting him and gently pet Solar's tiny forehead, making the kitten squeak at him with joy. Moon looked at Sun and back to Solar before taking off his hat and gingerly taking Solar out of Sun's hands.

"Good thinking, Moon." Sun told him, helping hold Moon's hat for Moon to safely place Solar in the warm hat. Once Moon had placed him int the hat, Sun wrapped Solar in the hat like a swaddle and gently placed him on Moon's chest so the warmth of Moon's engines would keep Solar warm.

"Be gentle. Not too tight holding him." Sun instructed Moon, placing Moon's hands to hold Solar up against him while Moon sniffled and held Solar as carefully as possible. Solar mewled softly, almost like he was whining.

"He's hungry. Come on. I have some milk for my cats he can have." Sun guided Moon up to his feet and then turned to glare at Ruin. "Don't you dare leave this room!" Sun hissed at him.

"I won't." Ruin agreed and raised his hands. Sun then guided Moon out to the kitchen and got out the kitten milk replacement for Solar and the tiny feeding syringe and nipple he had left over from finding Shadow a couple of months ago now.

Sun cleaned and sanitized the syringe and nipple and mixed together 2.25ml of the milk replacement before he drew the 2.25ml up into the syringe and put the nipple onto it and showed it to Moon.

"Do you want me to show you?" Sun asked.

"Yeah…" Moon admitted.

"Alright, put him on the counter if he feels human temperature." Sun told him. Moon felt over Solar's belly and he did feel warm enough, so moon placed Solar on the counter on a towel that Sun laid out for him.

"You just let him sit on his little butt and you put your thumb and middle fingers under his chin to hold up his head but don't squeeze because you're holding his neck, you're just holding his head up a little bit so he swallows." Sun told Moon as he narrated what he was doing once he unraveled Solar from Moon's hat.

"Then you get the nipple in his mouth and very slowly push down on the plunger. You don't want him aspirating because he's too tiny to cough it back up." Sun told him as he very slowly pushed the plunger and Solar greedily suckled at the nipple on the syringe, making little noises as he did so that Moon thought were adorable.

"I know it's probably going to feel weird, but kittens need help going to the bathroom until they're about a month old, so just use a washcloth and it'll help him go to the bathroom and clean him up." Sun finished feeding Solar and used a clean washcloth to help Solar go to the bathroom, Solar squeaking like a mouse with annoyance the whole time until Sun finished cleaning him off with a warm damp paper towel and a dry one to keep him dry and warm.

Sun rebundled Solar into Moon's hat and settled the kitten back into Moon's arms. Moon cradled him close and Moon watched the wriggling little kitten get comfortable and go to sleep against him, nuzzling against Moon's chest.

[weirdo-from-bonesborough]

Somebody has definitely said this before but au where bruce kills the joker and gets arrested by the un (can the un arrest people?) so when dick get back from space he finds his brother’s dead, his dad’s an international criminal, and the batman is a 13-year-old boy.

[cervinae-canine]

yeah i think there's a difference between selfshipping with a antihero/ a antagonist/ a morally grey character, ect; and selfshipping with a rapist or a character who attempted imperialism / genocide. and the fact that i and others need to clarify such, is kind of sad.

Proship / Comship / RPF Do Not Interact Please !

[lilywave]

i keep thinking about the concept that according to wicked lore, fiyero and elphaba were fucking with everyone during the entirety of the wizard of oz, but i also think about fiyero during that period a lot in general. what was he doing? what was he thinking? how was dealing with the trauma of literally getting crucified and beaten almost to death and then irreversibly transformed into a scarecrow going? when did he get back in contact with elphaba to formulate their plan? did he and boq have thinly veiled beef with each other the whole time? i have to know

[unicornpopcorn14]

Do you ever think that if Dazai one day decided to do things the conventional way, or act the closest thing to what people call normal, how much that'd freak out the people familiar with him?

-> Dazai walking into the PM with no bandages on, wearing a casual outfit fit for his age, to which Chuuya does a double take at, gaping in horror.

At first, Chuuya'd take on their normal bickering, rub his eyes dramatically as if he's seeing things- "Who the fuck are you???" He'd exclaim. But then he'd bombard him with questions, ask if he'd run out of bandages, tell him he has extra rolls in his office-

"You're acting as if being wrapped up in gauze is normal, stupid slug."

"It is for you."

-> Dazai finishing his whole plate of curry, asking for seconds, and Oda would watch him with eyes widened a fraction, his own version of a shocked stare.

He wouldn't say anything, because he's afraid that drawing attention to the action would make Dazai stop doing it. He'd share that with Ango later, though, and Ango wouldn't even believe him.

→ (tw) Dazai not expressing his infatuatation about suicide for an entire week, disappearing for Kunikida to find him in his dorm instead of the usual river.

He's sit with him, ask if he's okay, fumble his words when he touches on the subject. Because how can you approach someone about your concern regarding their lack of suicidal tendencies, lately?

-> Dazai showing up early to the ada, taking his coat off, and immediately working.

The whole agency would hide behind the entrance, watch him with wide eyes as they share questioning looks.

"He- He didn't flop on the couch at all???"

"He didn't even look its way!"

"I mean, that's great, but something just doesn't sit right with me-"

"Is he sick?"

"Even I can't explain what's happening right now."

"Someone do something!"

And ppl often assume that Kunikida would be ecstatic about this, but no, I believe he'd be the most horrified one of all, trying to make sense of things but ending up empty handed. 😭

Fukuzawa would come up to find a swarm at the door, watching something inside that he'd assume to be a spider at first.

"What is going on here?"

"Dazai's working."

Fukuzawa'd rush to confirm, and sure enough.

He'd sigh in resignation, knowing this day would come.

"Get the exorcist."

~

It's endlessly amusing, how Dazai has his own version of conventional that if he were to deviate from, just slightly, panic would ensue through the people he's familiar with.

Even if it leads him to do healthier actions.

Something is wrong, and they need to figure out what, because this isn't the Dazai they know.

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 6 (Part 2)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Windfur gently tries to recommend that Olive name her two kits. It's been a moon, and they deserve to have some names. Olive bites back at Windfur, saying there's no point - no thanks to Windfur, she still has a broken back and there's no promise the woods will spare her kits. Windfur bristles. He tries not to take it personally, but he does.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons) (Olive, mediator, female, 62 moons)

Hopechase overhears the argument between Windfur and Olive. Her ears droop as she finishes playing with Olive's kits. Windfur has been trying really hard to care for Olive - his life as a medicine cat isn't as easy as it seems to be.

(Hopechase, warrior, female, 88 moons) (??? Lilac pelt kit, kitten, female, 1 moons) (??? Brown pelt kit, kitten, female, 1 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons)

Windfur teaches Shiverpaw about basic herbs and their uses. He's surprised when she asks if there's any rhymes that can help her memorize clan rituals, like assisting a queen's birth or preparing a funeral. [SKILL REVEAL: LOVER OF STORIES]

(Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 6 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons)

----

"Well...yes, there are. I can teach them to you later. Those are usually more advanced medicine that you'd learn later in your apprenticeship," Windfur said

"Helping with a labor, I get. But..." Shiverpaw stared at her feet with a guilty look. Windfur waited for her to get on with it, until he saw the sadness that pooled in her eyes.

Ah. Right. Warblerkit.

Windfur sighed. She must've seen him prepare the funeral pyre - something that was genuinely quite rare for ForestClan, but a necessity if the body was still present.

He really didn't want to talk about death and funeral rites with Shiverpaw on the very first week of her training. But...this was ForestClan, and death would be a common occurrence. Reluctantly, he stared at the wall and looked through the funeral herbs lined up in the shelves. He prepared himself as he offered to give a basic rundown.

"Well...I'll tell you about the fine details later. But truth is, Shiverpaw, Warblerkit's situation was...different. Rarely do we have a body to burn."

Shiverpaw's cobalt blue eyes were wide with shock, before it seemed like she remembered why. Her bristled fur flattened. "...So...we wouldn't make a fire, usually?"

"No. Not a funerary one, anyway. We'd cook their favorite dish if they had one instead, and the Clan would partake in it. Instead of burning anything, we'd bury important mementos of theirs in our graveyard."

"That sounds different from what we did for Warblerkit." Shiverpaw said, her head tilted. "Why? Why do we burn the body?"

Windfur paused. He knew why. He knew exactly why they burned any bodies they could physically retrieve. But looking at the young apprentice's eyes - he couldn't do it. As he remembered the screaming chaos of the late greenleaf storm, as he left for just a split moment to staunch bleeding coming from Olive - the sight of tendrils retreating into the darkness with a small, pale bundle shook him. He wanted to bury the memory and let the woods take it too.

Windfur must've failed to hide his emotions, as Shiverpaw's curious stare rescinded. She shifted uneasily. "It's...It's okay, I don't need - "

"It's just what we've always done," Windfur sputtered. "We just...we burn the bodies, if we have them. We...we don't like seeing the woods taking our clanmates. I heard from Hopechase that it used to be a FieldClan ritual that we adopted after they were destroyed. To honor them."

A lie, Windfur thought. Shiverpaw looked at the funeral herbs that Windfur had taken out of his stores. She gave a soft nod, deciding his answer was honest. Windfur sighed. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't like Chicoryglint. She'd have had some sort of answer for everything. He felt like an apprentice being told he was now the adult supervision for the nursery. But here he was. An apprentice teaching an apprentice.

"...So, like you saw during Warblerkit's funeral," he started, pointing to the herbs he pulled out, "we use fennel, rosemary and catmint, if we can spare any, to decorate the body. This is to hide any unpleasant smell that may arise while we're pending rites."

Shiverpaw stared at the herbs carefully, then pouted a bit. "...No rhyme to memorize?' "...There is one."

"Can I hear it?"

Windfur shuffled a bit in place. "Uh. Yeah. Hold on, I have to remember how it goes..." He cleared his throat, remembering the melody as something almost march-like, as though trying to sing while dredging through layers of dense forest - breathy and rapid. He wasn't sure if he remembered the melody exactly right, but he had to give it a try...

"Bring the fuel to stack the fire, Let the flames climb ever higher, Hear it crackling, hear it singing, Blazing heat is all-cleansing. Weave the mary-of-the-rose, Fennel, catmint, by the row."

Shiverpaw's ears twitched intently, focused on his melody.

"Our hearts may cry to forestall, But this brave soul answered the call... Bring the fuel to stack the fire, Let the soul free from the pyre, Let our prayers sound free, Loved ones bound to memory. May their ashes be preserved, Round the marker, one with earth."

Windfur stopped, grooming his chest fur. Before Shiverpaw could make a comment, he continued. "That ah, last part is what we do after the fire dies down. We collect the ashes of the dead and try to wrap it in something - leather, large ferns, whatever. Then we bury it at the graveyard out west."

"It kinda sounds like a battle melody, but it's a...a requiem?"

Windfur's tail twitched. "I, ah...I guess. Where'd you even learn that word?"

"Requiem? From one of Barleywave's stories, when I was little," Shiverpaw insisted.

Windfur decided to push that aside, choosing to help refocus Shiverpaw on memorizing herbs, now that he got her attention - especially with fennel, which had nearly a dozen uses.

Windfur didn't think about the nursery rhyme for the rest of the day. Truly, he didn't. Cloudthunder had cooked the Clan some smoked meat, Redstar and Hopechase had shared with them their plans to reintroduce the Plentiful Gathering on a small scale. He checked up on Olive again and did his best to respond softly to her grief-stricken lashes. He dismissed Shiverpaw and let her join Morningpaw and Barleywave on learning how to make bulrush rope. By all means, this was a good, productive day.

Which is why he hated that the moment he lay in his nest, he couldn't help but stare at the walls of the medicine den. He told himself he was admiring the beauty of nature, how the giant oak fell and left a massive log den, to be hollowed out by years and years of carving and pillaging by insects. Now, the walls were sturdy and flattened by cat claws. Yes. That's definitely what he was thinking about.

If it weren't for the memory of Chicoryglint's shade settling behind him. The molly gave him a dry smile.

"Did you know that there used to be another part to the rhyme?"

Windfur remembered how his younger self replied. "Really? Can you tell me?"

"Well, there isn't much use to that part of it anymore, Windpaw. The second section was more of a cautionary segment than a ritual explanation. Besides, it's quite...morbid."

"Well, of course it's morbid. It's about funeral rites. Like...maybe it's rare, but surely there's rites for bodies that are really badly gone? Like, the flies got to them already?"

"Oh, no, it's the same rites. We just apply a lot of chive, and break out the mint and lavender if it's really bad. It's the only time those herbs are used - they're poisonous otherwise."

"Well, now that you've told me, I'm curious," Windpaw had said with a twitch of the tail, his dark blue eyes narrowed with frustration. "You can't just tell me there's another part and then refuse to tell me."

"Oh, alright, fine," Chicoryglint's pale grey and golden tail twitched, purposefully tapping the apprentice on the shoulder. A look of mischief appeared on her face. "But it is still very disturbing, nothing like the first half. Might be the most frightening thing in my repertoire. Because its melody sounds more like a battle chant, some lorekeepers suspect this song had a different purpose, once."

"Chicoryglint, no offence, but after vowing to protect StarClan's secret, nothing else really terrifies me."

A tense silence fell in the air for a brief moment. Chicoryglint casually used a single claw to separate two different sets of herbs. Then, after Windpaw had quietly sat curled up with his tail around his paws, Chicoryglint let out a small exhale before giving him the second verses.

"Blood and gore, by the score, Falls to the woods' core.

Show our might; annihilation, Wipe out all foul creation, For our flesh is not our own, When the woods puppet our bones. All scream out their final breath, To the cunning roots of death.

So ignite the funeral pyre, Pile the bodies ever higher, See them burning, see them seething, Saved from the woods' scheming.

So ignite the funeral pyre, Sound the screaming of the choir, End the Fake Cats from rising, Standing high upon your graves."

Windfur blinked. He felt the fur on his pelt stand on end.

He quickly shook his head, chasing out the memory from his mind. He took a deep breath, then curled up tightly on himself, burying his nose into his pelt.

He decided he would never mention the missing verses to Shiverpaw.

Those ones would die with him.

---

<PREVIOUS | NEXT>

[oddsconvert]

My brain: make friends! Send asks! Exist in more then just your blog!

Me: but what if I'm scared of friends!?!?!

Anyway, can I request Ronan catching Issak hurting Henley?

Flowers for author. 💐💐💐💐💐

Friends!!! It's official! No being scared! <3 I am so sorry for the delay with this but I hope this ticks your boxes! :D

---

“How do you sleep at night?”

Henley stirred awake, his world a blurred mess of throbbing pain. Crusted sleep clung to his lashes, he blinked fiercely to chase away the haze. He could only just about make out a hulking silhouette looming over him. When his vision finally sharpened, he instinctively clutched his scratty blanket closer to his heaving chest - his futile shield.

Cold dread flooded Henley as he saw Izaak, free of the chains that usually rattled with every twitch of a muscle. The chains that kept Henley safe and sound, out of harm's way. Far from Izaak’s reach.  Izaak's fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white, his face contorted in a feral snarl. Panic squeezed Henley’s chest like a vice. He was a rabbit trapped in a fox's den. 

“Wha-?” Henley’s voice was a hoarse rasp. He’s half-convinced no sound left his lips at all. 

"Oh, did I interrupt your sweet dreams, Henny?" Izaak's voice was a low growl, sending shivers trickling down Henley's spine. That nickname. The way it dripped with mocking familiarity, but years of ingrained fear hid within it. It made all the hairs on Henley’s arms stand on edge. 

Izaak suddenly lunged forward. One massive hand clamped around Henley's throat, squeezing every last drop of air from his lungs. Henley's wrists burned in protest against his chains, straining as he fought for a sliver of slack, a desperate inch to reach his throat and fight Izaak off. "You," Izaak spat, barely containing his rage, "are the reason for my suffering. The cause of my anguish. Every scar on my body has your name written on it.."

Tears pressed from beneath Henley’s eyelids, and he shook his head furiously. Passionately. No. It’s not true. He’s not responsible for this. He didn’t land them here, he didn’t start all of this. This is all Izaak’s doing. This is the price he has to pay. 

“So answer the question,” Izaak demanded, now nearly crushing Henley’s windpipe as he choked and wheezed, “How the hell do you sleep at night? No. Scratch that shit. Better yet. How do you live with yourself? After what you’ve done to me?”

“I-Izaak, pleas-”

Izaak’s fist came at Henley with such speed it was like a cannonball. It connected with a sickening crunch as Henley felt his nose cave in, and hot-white pain erupted. The force of the blow sent him sprawling, the floor rose up to meet him with a jarring thud. He lay helpless. Cool blood dripped from his nose and pooled on his lips, he could taste the metallic tang. 

“You dare call me that again, and I’ll put you six feet under this fucking cement. Understand?” Izaak seethed through gritted teeth, with spit spraying and a vein pulsing from his temple. Izaak didn’t even give him the second to respond, Henley was still reeling and seeing stars. “I SAID, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he roared. 

“Yes!” Henley wailed miserably. Tears mingled with blood and dirt. He sniffed pathetically and whimpered as new pain flared through his obviously broken nose. He stayed glued to the floor. Too afraid to move, to even dare lift his head up. Henley didn’t see Izaak reaching for his long curls of hair and wrenching them in his fist. Yanking his head back, Henley’s Adam's apple bobbed against his collar as he gasped and gulped back the fear.

“‘Yes’, what?” Izaak whispered. It was hard to miss the element of enjoyment in his voice. It sounded like old times. Must feel like it to him too. 

But Henley immediately knew what he was looking for.

“Yes, sir!” Henley gasped out. There’s not a beat of hesitation. Izaak can say many things about Henley. A bad pet, he is not. 

Henley’s head smacked to the ground, his forehead banging against cold, unforgiving cement as Izaak threw him out of his hand. He’s on a warpath. He paced back and forth, contemplating what to do next. 

Izaak's foot then swung into Henley's gut. The air whooshed from Henley's lungs in a strangled scream that ripped free from his throat. The world lurched sideways, a wave of nausea crashing over him. Bile rose in his throat as pain lanced through his abdomen. Izaak unrolled Henley from his cocoon and straddled his hips, slamming his palm over Henley’s mouth, “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Henley obeyed. He forced himself to seal his lips, now sobbing silently and huffing through the pain. 

“You got us into this fucking mess. You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you. I’m going to make you wish you were never born-”

“I already do-” Henley croaked.

Izaak doesn’t hold back anymore. He unleashed a flurry of punches, raining blow after blow down on Henley. Henley’s already-battered body convulsed with each hit - he twisted and flailed in a desperate bid to shield himself from the onslaught. It was no use. Darkness cornered his vision, and ringing screeched in his ears. His entire body was slowly growing limp.

Henley squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. He waited for the next punch. And waited. But it never came. Confused, Henley cracked open a swollen and purpling eye.

Izaak was no longer looking at him, and a flicker of raw terror replaced the unhinged rage that had plagued his eyes before. Henley groaned as he lifted his pounding head, and turned to follow Izaak’s petrified stare.

A shadow shifted at the top of the stairs, a tutting sound emanating from the darkness.

“What are you doing to my boy?” Ronan asked, cool as a cucumber on the surface, but fury bubbled below. The calm facade didn’t last. Ronan flew down the stairs, and pulled that oh so familiar remote from his pocket. In the blink of an eye, Izaak was a quivering, jittering wreck as his shock collar lit up and shocked him stiff. He collapsed from Henley’s body like a tonne of bricks. His screams pierced the sound barrier - his fingers scrabbled and ripped at the collar, kicking his legs and bucking his entire body. Ronan punched the button again, and again until the screaming stopped. It’s just silent gargles, with drool dribbling down the edge of Izaak’s blue lips. 

Ronan threw Henley a single, and quick look as he bolted past. It wasn't a look of reassurance, but a quick flicker up and down to acknowledge him. Reaching his locked cabinet, Ronan fumbled with the combination and finally, the cabinet swung open, and he snatched a vial and syringe, and a length of rope.

He wastes no time in racing over to where Izaak is heaving and panting on the floor, and stabbing the syringe in his neck. Izaak roared, a sound that curdled the blood, but it was cut short by a weak gasp as the muscle relaxant began to take hold.

“There, there. That should settle you down, big-un,” Ronan chuckled, patting Izaak on the chest.

“F-ffuc- fuckk y-yoou,” Izaak slurred, his eyes rolled like pinball machines in their sockets. Henley watches as all the tone in Izaak’s muscle depleted and he flopped lifelessly. Izaak lay sprawled on the floor, a pathetic mew escaping his lips as the muscle relaxant coursed through his veins. His previously violent thrashing had dissolved into a pathetic trembling, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Henley's cry echoed through the basement. Now that the threat was neutralised. "You didn't tie him tight enough, sir! He almost—!" His voice choked on the rising panic, his gaze locked on Izaak's slack form. “He was going to kill me.”

Ronan paid no mind to Henley, the shivering wreck that he was. Instead, he focused on yanking Izaak’s arms behind his back. With rough rope, he bound Izaak's wrists together with a vengeance, the knots pulled tight, drawing a choked gasp that did little to faze Ronan. Next, he secured Izaak's ankles with another length of rope, the slack yanked out until Izaak's legs were splayed uncomfortably wide. Finally, with a cruel twist, Ronan bound Izaak's ankles to his secured wrists, hog-tying him in a position that screamed discomfort. Izaak's gasps faded to choked moans as his body contorted in a way it wasn't meant to, forced into an arched bow.

Ronan left Izaak on the ground and approached Henley slowly. With a touch that could have been gentle or cruel, he cupped Henley's bruised and bloodied cheek. Henley flinched at the contact, a hiss escaping his lips. Ronan’s eyes flickered over the damage and he tsked, disappointed. Then his eyes met Henley’s and locked in. “Do you really think I’d let him break one of my favourite toys?”

“He - He got pretty close, master.” Henley snivelled. He flinched as Ronan’s arms moved, expecting another blow, but instead, his arms wrapped around Henley’s tiny frame in a sudden and suffocating embrace. Ronan’s grip was tight, possessive, leaving no wiggle room. Defeated, Henley sagged into the hug and rested his head on Ronan’s chest, letting his eyes flutter shut. It was always easier to give into this than brave the pain. Ronan began to stroke Henley’s hair, twirling it in his fingers. It wasn’t a gesture of genuine affection and Henley was never under the impression that it was. It was Ronan’s sense of ownership. Like Izaak’s claim was the bruises and scars. Ronan’s was more inside than out. For Henley, at least.

“Shh Shh. Come with me. I’ll get you patched up, little one”. Grunting with effort, Ronan hoisted Henley to his feet, a hand wrapped under his armpit to guide him up the creaking stairs.

Ronan turned at the very last step, leering at the sight of Izaak, bound and subdued. "That little temper tantrum of yours was cute, pet" he called down, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But playtime's over. Now, you get to lie there, nice and quiet, and contemplate all the fun things I have planned for you when your little cocktail wears off. I want you to feel every second.”

----

Taglists!:

Henley taglist: @livelaughwhump @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth

Ronan taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak taglist: @emmettland @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

Drabble taglist (which I forgot existed and have recently rediscovered assdfghjkl so will be using from now on unless you would like off it <3 ): @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen @whumping-in-the-dark @vagabouund @turn-the-tables-on-them

[greentrickster]

Number one worst reason to kill off a character in media:

They've completed their character arc/fulfilled their narrative purpose.

Second worse character to kill off a character in media:

To make a point/shock value.

Reason these are bad reasons to do so:

To begin with? It's extremely easy to make both ring extremely hollow, especially on the rewatch, and runs a high risk of feeling cheap. There's also the fact that, if you do this once it can feel jarring and out of place, but if you keep doing it then it risks numbing the readers/viewers to other characters and the overall story. After all, why get invested in a character who could die out of nowhere for no reason and with no narrative satisfaction?

Also, once a character is dead? That's it, no more, their story is generally over, meaning you have one less potential tool in your box for telling the remaining story, and it's always good to have a few cards up your sleeve for later use. Every character and setting is an opportunity, something that you've worked hard to create and get the viewers/readers invested in. Kill or destroy them, and that's the last bit of use to be had from that investment, and often a new character or setting will be needed to replace the one that's gone now, and that the viewer/reader will need to get invested in, and that will get harder to achieve each time it's done.

I'm not saying that no one should ever die in any story ever - that would obviously be bad writing advice. More, if a main/prominent character dies, then it should have weight. It should open new ways to view the characters who knew the one who died, how they interact with the world, possibly even the world itself if they were important enough in their setting. A nameless mook can be tossed aside with little thought, a character who's known fairly well but isn't a main protagonist or antagonist is generally quite good to use if you absolutely need to make a point or have an abrupt tone shift (though it should still be handled with care), but a main protagonist or antagonist, who's been around for an extended period? Unless there's been one heck of a build-up and/or has an extensive narrative pay-off? Leave that sucker alive. Put them in jail, send them off on a solo quest, stick 'em in a coma, heck, create a situation that's vague about whether or not they survived, you don't have to keep them in the story, just keep them in the setting.

And yes, of course there are the exceptions to this, where character death is frequent and anyone being vulnerable to it is the norm, but it's not something that can be supported by most stories or genres.

[dont-open-dead-inside-net]

Mpreg the word is like a beautiful rainbow to me but I hate the concept. you could have made him transgender but instead he's shitting a baby out of his asshole. have you no joy in your life

[fridayiminlovemp3]

normal person: omg i love chris brown did you know he has a lisp haha crazy right?? you can kind of hear it in his songs

me trying to hard to get along with them: no i don’t know that because i haven’t listened to a chris brown song since he tried to beat rihanna to death in 2009. anyway i have a fun music fact for you as well! pete wentz recorded the spoken word outro to get busy living or get busy dying (do your part to save the scene and stop going to shows) in the recording studio’s tiny washroom because he was too embarrassed to do it in front of people

normal person: what is pete wentz

[kristannafever]

Big Sky Ranch - 12

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: Explicit WC: 3451

Chapter Index

*Content warning in tags*

-------------------------

Anna was clearing up the dishes from the supper that she had made while Mr. Weadick read a book at the kitchen table when the doorbell rang.  She wiped her hands on her apron and went to answer it.   Sven was standing there with a scraggly looking middle-aged guy in a trucker cap.

“Hey Anna,” Sven greeted her warmly.  “Got a new hire to meet the old man.”

“Oh sure,” she said, and stood back to let the men enter.

“Well, hey there,” the stranger said directly to her, as he stepped through the threshold, eyeing her up and down.

Sven turned quickly to the other man and brought up a finger.  “She’s taken.”

The man held up his hands.  “My apologies.  She yours?”

“No, my brothers.  Now drop it.”

The man gave him a rather exaggerated apologetic look while managing to appear thoroughly amused. 

Anna brought them into the kitchen and they took a seat at the table with Mr. Weadick.  She busied herself with cleaning up from the rest of dinner, listening to the interview.  The guy, apparently having just arrived in town, had worked hard with Buck all day.  Mr. Weadick threw him some tough questions and he seemed to manage them easily.   In the end, he was welcomed on and Anna had to wonder if Buck was going to get along with him sharing the house. 

She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about the guy – Bill, apparently – that seemed a little off.   Perhaps it was the rather lewd look he’d given her when Sven wasn’t paying attention when they were leaving the kitchen.  Maybe it just creeped her out a bit now that she was with Kristoff.  She’d had plenty of looks like that before from her ex’s friends and at the diner by certain men, and never thought much of them beyond plain disgust. 

With everything cleaned up and prepped for the morning, she bid her boss a good evening and happily went down to the ranch houses to help Coop with their supper.

He was planning on doing smokies on the grill and there wasn’t much to help with, so Anna sat in one of the lawn chairs and waited for the rest of the ranch hands while she chatted with Coop.  Kristoff, Sven and Jett filtered in a short time later and Anna was happy to see her boyfriend.  Bill was chatting with Buck, having accepted the invitation for dinner, and seemed to pay her little attention.

The guys put the horses away and everyone shot the shit over a beer before Coop fired up the grill to cook the smokies.  Anna was pretty tired with how much her and Kristoff had been going at it, and she happily let him handle the BBQ while she relaxed with the other guys.

“We should eat outside,” Coop said, looking over his shoulder from the BBQ as he brushed it clean to cook on.

“Sounds good,” Sven said, and everyone else agreed.  “I’ll grab the condiments and shit.”

“I’ll grab another round a beers,” Buck added.

“I gotta take a piss,” Kristoff said quietly to himself and got up with a faint groan.  He threw a smile Anna’s way and went into Sven’s place.

“Oh, I should grab that little folding table from the stables for the fixins’,” Coop said and turned away from the grill.

Anna looked to see that Bill and Jett were in a conversation and she didn’t want Coop to grab it with his broken arm.  She stood.  “I got it, just tell me where it is.”

“Oh, it’s somewhere buried in the storage room at the back.  Thanks, Anna!”

She took off for the stables and opened the man door beside the barn doors.  The smell of horse was prevalent, yet there was a cleanliness to it.  Coop was doing a great job managing it himself with his broken arm. 

Anna walked the length of the stable to the storage room.  Looking in, she spied it right away and went to grab it.  She was leaning over to lift it when someone grabbed her ass, hard.

Anna turned, startled, half expecting to see Kristoff grinning at her.  What she saw instead was a threatening and seriously creepy look from Bill.  “What the hell-”

He moved as quick as a snake strike, clamping his hand against her mouth.  He didn’t say anything as he shoved her towards the wall, slamming her back painfully against it.

“You stay quiet if you know what’s good for ya,” he hissed, as his hand came up and grabbed her breast through her shirt and squeezed painfully.  “We gonna have a quick little party in this room here.”

Anna’s fight response kicked in and she did the only thing she could think to do in that moment, which was to bring up her knee as fast and hard as she could.  It connected with the man’s testicles with a satisfying thud.

He dropped her and doubled over.  Anna turned and ran out of the stables, banging her shoulder against the jam of the man door and stumbling to her knees on the ground outside.  She looked up wildly to see who would help her, when Kristoff looked casually over at the movement in her direction as he descended the steps from Sven’s house.

His face changed instantly, and his entire body snapped into action.  If she thought Bill had moved fast, there was nothing as fast as the way Kristoff started charging in her direction to see her on her hands and knees with a pleading look for help.  Only his focus wasn’t on her, it was on the open door to the stables.  He didn’t even look at her as he barreled past and into the building.

The next thing Anna heard was the sound of a fist hitting a face, something she’d never even heard in her entire life until that fight that Boone had gotten into with Kristoff.

Anna scrambled to her feet, looking at the other men near the house.  Jett and Coop were wide eyed with a confused ‘what the fuck?’ expression on their faces, and Sven had his arms full of condiments as he’d been following Kristoff out of the house.  He locked eyes with her.

“Kristoff’s gonna kill him,” Anna yelled to his brother.

Sven dropped everything in his arms and charged forward with instant understanding.  Anna scrambled to her feet and beat him to the door and ran inside.  As she’d expected, Bill was on his back on the stable floor, taking hit after hit to the forearms that were trying to protect his face and failing half the time to do so.

“Kristoff!  Kristoff!”

He wasn’t listening, his face twisted with that rage she’d seen when he was choking Boone.  

Sven came in and launched himself at Kristoff’s back.  “Kris, stop!  Stop!”  He put his arm around Kristoff’s neck and tried to haul him back while he mercilessly kept pummeling the man on the floor.  Jett and Coop ran into the stable a moment later, and upon seeing what was happening, tried to help haul Kristoff off of the prone man.

There was a struggle until Buck appeared in the threshold of the door and used his incredibly loud voice.  “Stop it you fucks!”

Kristoff finally relented and the ranch hands were able to haul him away from the other man and up to his feet.  Bill was scrambling away on his ass, screaming about how crazy Kristoff was pretty much every curse word Anna had ever heard.  His face was a bloody mess, and it was clear that his nose was badly broken.

Her cowboy was panting with clenched teeth, his wild, furious eyes locked on Bill as he scrambled to his feet.   Kristoff remained silent, seething, while every other man on his side started shouting at Bill.  It was hard to make out what they were saying, they were all shouting over each other, but it all had similar tones of ‘fucking off’, ‘getting lost’ and ‘you come back and we’ll kill you’.  In the end, Bill heeded their advice and ran from the stable.

When he left, Kristoff was still panting, staring ahead down the length of the stable.  Every man holding him back released their grip slowly, like they were afraid he’d take off after Bill.  Instead, he sank slowly to his knees and hung his head between his slumped shoulders.

“Come on,” Sven said quietly to the other men, and they retreated slowly, all looking down at the ground.

Kristoff remained where he was, still breathing deeply while Anna could only stare at him.   She was a little shocked, a little scared, and madly in love.  He’d been hitting Bill mercilessly, and yet the man was still able to take to his feet.  A man Kristoff’s size could have easily bashed Bills face in in the time it took Sven and the others to haul him off, and as crazed as Kristoff had looked while he pummeled the man, Bill was still able to leave under his own power.  That kind of restraint spoke volumes.

Anna walked over to him and slid her hands onto his shoulders.  They tensed at the touch only did not relax.  She started to rub his rock-hard shoulders.  “I fucking love you so much.”

He let out an exhale and his entire body finally relaxed a little.  He pulled in a shaky breath like he was on the verge of tears.  “What exactly did he do?” he whispered.

Anna suddenly understood.  Kristoff knew Bill had hurt her, only he didn’t know how.  And to him, that didn’t matter.  All he knew when he looked at her was that she was in trouble, and he acted.

“He groped me,” she said with a wince, unsurprised he tensed up again under her hands.  “But I’m fine.  I kneed him in the balls.”

He was silent for a moment and then there was a very light shaking of his shoulders with a nearly silent chuckle.  “Atta girl.”

She moved around him and kneeled in front of him, ignoring her clean jeans on the dusty stable floor, then hooked her finger under his chin so that he would look at her.  “I never once worried about my safety, Kristoff.  I knew you were here.”

His eyes darted away from hers.  “I shouldn’t have left you alone.  That guy had a creepy vibe.”

Anna would have chuckled if this wasn’t so serious.  “Well, he’s gone now.  So, let’s just go eat, okay?”

His eyes rolled slowly back to meet hers.  “Where?”

Anna understood by the look he was giving her, his brows turned up with worry.  Her hand came up and she touched her palm lightly to her left breast.  “Here.”

His lips pursed in rage again.  “I’m so sorry.”

That surprised her.  “Don’t be sorry for his actions!  You set him straight.  I’m sure he’ll think twice before doing anything like that again.”

“He won’t.” 

His eyes seared into her, and she shook her head slightly, wondering again the ways of men.  There was so much goodness in them, and yet so much evil.  At least for her experiences, the good ones far outweighed the bad.

“Come on,” she said, standing to her feet and reaching out for him to grab his hands with an encouraging smile.  “Let’s go eat.”

He looked up at her, regarding her, then nodded and stood up.  As soon as he was on his feet, he pulled her into a fierce hug.  “I fucking love you so much, too.”

He held onto her as long as she let him until she decided it was over and she let go of him and waited.  While he did not want to, he knew it was time to do the same.  He looked back down at her face when they pulled apart, his mind still clouded with fury.   Despite the fact that the old man was a pretty good judge of character, they’d all missed something with that guy.

Anna asked again if they could go eat and he was helpless to resist, even if he wanted to just take her back to the cabin and barricade themselves in.  She was hungry and he didn’t have much on hand, so they left the stables to eat some smokies.

The scene that was unfolding at the grill was tense.  Every man was on their feet, speaking harshly to one another.

“… fucking know better, Buck!” Sven was shouting in the older man’s face.

“You and the old man are the assholes that hired him!” Buck shot back. 

Coop shouted, “Where the hell was Jett when Bill took off?!  They was talking a minute before!”

“I had to take a leak too!” Jett threw up his arms.  “I went around the side of the house to piss!  You’re the one that let her get that table on her own!”

“She offered!” Coop shouted, holding up his casted arm.  “I was grillin’ the dogs, I didn’t see him take off for the stables!”

Sven turned his rage on the group.  “None of that matters!  Buck saw him suckin’ at a flask all day and didn’t say nonthin’”.

“I was gonna tell you after he left and see how you assholes wanted to handle it!” Buck shouted, taking a step towards Sven with a raised fist.  “Not like we’re exactly innocent of doing the same thing from time to time, and we’re hurtin’ for help here!”

The arguing continued and Kristoff had had about all he could take.  His nerves were already fried.  “Enough!” he roared.

The four other men looked at their direction, all eyes on him until they realized Anna was beside him and every focus went to her.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Anna,” Sven said, getting a little choked up.  “I thought the dude was on the level.”

His eyes slipped to Kristoff and he saw the panicky apology in them.  He wasn’t mad at his bother, but it wasn’t so easy to let go of so much sudden adrenaline and his furrowed brow refused to relax.  No one would have guessed that the guy would try and pull something like that with them all around, even if he had been nipping at a flask all day long.  Perhaps he figured it was his only chance to get as far as he could.  The dude clearly had a screw loose.  Not that any of that mattered to Kristoff.  If he ever saw the guy again, he’d resume beating him.

“Sven, it’s okay!” Anna was saying, bringing his focus back to her.  “I thought he was okay too!  When you guys were up at the house he seemed on the level.”

Sven’s eyes turned to the ground.  “I’m sorry,” he muttered again, looking more than ashamed.

Kristoff knew it was because his brother had looked to him for a reaction and only received a hard stare.  He was still furious.  And ashamed of himself too.  If the other guys hadn’t stopped him, he wasn’t sure if he would have stopped himself. 

“It’s my fault, Anna,” Coop piped up, speaking quickly and looking as sacred as a rabbit in a snare.  “I should’ve got that table myself.”

“I offered!” Anna protested.

“I should’ve said something about the flask right away,” Buck said to the ground.  “Even though he was a hard worker and got a bunch of shit done, that’s still not right.  I’m sorry, Anna.”

Before she could open her mouth, Jett spoke up.  “He glanced at you headin’ to the stables when I got up to take a piss.  I should’ve clued in on that.”

“Guys!” Anna pleaded.  “Please, I’m fine!”  She reached down blindly and Kristoff knew she was looking for his hand.  He slid his into hers.  “I knew y’all would protect me.”

The way she said that, mimicking their accent, made every single man relax their shoulders and smile ever so slightly.

“I know you boys got my back,” she added, in the same fashion, and the last of the animosity dissolved into nervous chuckles.

Kristoff looked down at her when she turned her face up to him.  Her eyes were pleading, and he understood.  Crisis was averted, and Anna did not want to dwell on what happened.  He nodded once at her.

He turned back to the ranch hands.  “Let’s just eat and forget about that fuckin’ piece of shit.”

-----

As soon as they stepped into Kristoff’s cabin and shut the door, he turned and pulled her into a protective hug.  “I’m so sorry.”

Anna let out a quick exhale of air against him.  “I know!  That’s all you guys did all night long was apologize! It wasn’t your fault!”

He knew she was mad and she tried to pull away.  He held her tight, unable to let go, and his eyes welled up with tears.  He sniffed and Anna relaxed in his embrace, allowing him to hold her for a very long moment while they breathed against one another.

His mind was a wreck.  He hated what happened, he hated himself, and he hated that fucker Bill like nobody’s business.  He didn’t think there was anything that could pull him out of his current mood.   Anna moved away from his hug and brushed her palm against his crotch.  He was unfazed.

He shied away from her, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt he would not be able to perform.  He was still mad and had an overpowering sense that he’d failed her.  It was also hurting him that she wanted normalcy and he was unable to provide it.  He paced the kitchen, mind lost in troubling thoughts.

“Kristoff, talk to me, please.  I’ve never seen you like this.”

He wasn’t sure what to say.  They’d talked about it a bit over supper, with Anna constantly telling the guys to stop apologizing.  In the end they’d let it go, but the meal wasn’t a happy one.  The mood was low.

Sven had pulled Kristoff into a hug before he took Anna back to the cabin.  It was rare of him to do so in front of the other guys, and Kristoff had greatly appreciated it and hugged his brother back tightly, letting him know that all was right with them.  The only person he blamed for what happened to Anna was himself.

Anna crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “You’re being ridiculous.”

That immediately pissed him off all over again.  “He groped you,” he said through gritted teeth.

She dropped her arms with a frustrated sigh.  “It’s not the first time that’s ever happened to me.”

His eyebrows shot up.  “It’s not?”  It surprised him.  He knew there were a lot of bad dudes out there and he knew the shit that women faced on a daily basis, he just hadn’t really thought about anything like that happening to her before.  Why would he?  Thinking on such things would be torturous.

Anna sat on the couch and patted the seat beside her.  He sat obediently, ready to hear what she had to say.

“One of my ex’s friends got too friendly one night when he was drunk.  He was always giving me dirty looks and gross suggestions, like I should serve them drinks in my lingerie.  And when my ex caught his friend when he had backed me into a corner and had his hand up my skirt, he blamed me.  They both did.  Said I’d been flirty and it was my fault.”

Kristoff didn’t think he could be any angrier, and here he was, seeing red with his hands balled up into tight fists and his teeth clenched so tightly it hurt.  He was vaguely aware that his body had started to shake.

Anna put her hand on his forearm.  “That’s why I haven’t told you about that stuff, Kristoff.  Your protectiveness is pretty intense.”

He thought on that a moment and then did his best to let go of the tension in his body.  It was true, and something he supposed he might have to work on.  Anna wanted to let it go and get right back to living happy and he was holding her back.

“Okay, Anna.  I get it.  I’ll work on that.”

She smirked at him.  “Not too much, I hope.  I do like it.  Just, you know, when I say I’m good, I’m good.  Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That made her smile, which made him happy, and he was finally able to let go of the simmering rage he felt.  It abated, but the anger did not.  He had a feeling it never would.

---

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[electric-plants]

focalors: i’m going to kill an archon

neuvillette: oh sick which one

focalors: me

neuvillette: :(

[mad-hunts]

its amazing how this is how barton expects someone to act when he kills someone for them (because they're so thankful for him, you know? yeah, barton is wack AF JSJSJ 💀):

but then this is how they actually usually react, and it's like the furthest thing from that:

[thelazybooknook]

at a family gathering where half of my relatives just confirmed that they are either

a) homophobic

b) transphobic

c) both

[blitz0hno]

Oh perfect it's Purge March day so anyway amane innocent sweep trial 3 let's Go

Listen listen listen it's p straightforward at this point

Amane does worldly medicine (on cat) -> breaking doctrine bc ur supposed to let god heal things -> punished severely, knows that's what is "supposed" to happen because it happens over and over as shown on Magic

Amane's "mother" kills the cat, presumably violently -> breaking doctrine on vulgar action (hurting/killing another living being; they make it a point to emphasize Amane's vegetarianism so it's obviously a very big thing in the doctrine) -> no punishment? No one around to punish her? No one else sees the contradiction? Well Amane is a big adult girl right? In her own eyes anyway, thanks to the cult. A FULL member of the group!! So it's her turn to deliver justice right????

I mean. Wrong but HOW WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?? her mother and presumably her father CHOSE to raise her in that cult and abuse her. They showed in Magic how often she had those dogmas drilled into her head. It's not her fucking fault and she's traumatized if you care

Amane was shown in Purge March to be in almost a trance-like state. Yes, she's been "trained" for this, and no matter how she's related to the sinner "a sin is a sin." Did she probably go further than she wanted/needed out of pure rage and injustice?? Even if she did, she was NOT in control of the ideas and reactions she was LITERALLY TOLD TO HAVE.

I'm not saying she was right to kill a woman honestly but no never mind I am saying that child abusers deserve death haha anyway amane inno sweep 100 years

Like Jackalope DEFINITELY ain't tryna let inno Amane slide bc he sees a need for her to "take responsibility" even though she never denies responsibility at all?? She knows what she did, or at least is sure she knows. She isn't remorseless, she has been told that feelings are bad compared to God's word. Shocker that she represses them.

Also technically it was her mother's responsibility to not get herself murdered by abusing her child and killing a cat and raising her kid in a cult. I'm not a victim blamer but that's a 12 year old dawg if you messed up that bad in life nothing's saving you try again next time.

[xxxcany0us33m3xxx]

this ship made some people mad so it motivated me to post more of it but to make it worse I made them chibis/shotas/whatever /j but in all honesty, here's more of them. Almas (the drow druid) belongs to another member of the party (yes its a dnd thing) and yes they are our silly lil ocs. Rian is my sillyguy and he's a loser but we love him for it.... anyways art dump below the cut, check the tags for any warnings