#wow kian

[leahdarkspear]

The Interrogation

Kian's first night as Leah's "house guest," where Leah interrogates him about the darkness within him Content Warning - Past trauma, threats of violence

While the strange Zandalari sipped his coffee, Leah took a moment to really observe him. She had noticed most of these things already but now she wanted to study him without distraction. She took in the features of his face. He wasn’t old, but he didn’t look particularly young either. His face was mostly smooth, with only slight traces of fine lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, but there was something careworn about his expression that led Leah to feel he had a decent amount of life experience. She placed his age at somewhere between forty and forty-five years old.

His viridian hair had been shorn close on the sides, and cropped into a short mohawk on top, much like a lot of the city guards in Dazar’alor wore. The stubble on the sides of his head indicated that his haircut was maybe a few months old. Definitely not regulation. This, along with his well-muscled physique made Leah think perhaps she should drop a line with some of her contacts to ask around and see if the Rastari had any AWOL troops.

His skin was smooth, absent of the rocky patches that normally adorned Zandalari trolls’ shoulders. It was a recessive trait among the Zandalari - uncommon to be sure, but not entirely unheard of. He had no visible tattoos, no identifying marks of any kind, save for a long scar reaching from just below his breastbone down to his navel. Leah wondered about its nature. Because of their regeneration, trolls only tended to sport scars from the most grievous of injuries. But this scar was clean and perfectly straight, whereas marks from battle tended to be jagged and messy. It could be a ritual scar; in those cases the troll undergoing the ritual would make repeated gouges in their skin after using a potion to temporarily halt their healing factor in order to let the scar tissue form. It was a lengthy and painful process that was generally used to make elaborate designs to either honor the Loa, or to indicate rites of passage or tribal affiliations. But this? This was just a single mark. Leah didn’t profess to be an expert of all the various trollish tribal markings, but something told her that’s not what this was. To her, it seemed much more like a surgical scar, but then, why hadn’t his regeneration healed him? Perhaps he’d been cursed, or possibly forsaken by the Loa. It could be, Leah reasoned, that the scar and his dark mojo were somehow related. She made a note to find a way to test her theory later.

By far, the most striking thing about the mysterious Kian had to be his eyes though. They weren’t solid colored, nor did they emit a subtle glow like most Zandalari’s eyes - instead he had separate sclera, irises, and pupils much like Leah herself had. The color of his irises was also unique. At first glance, Leah would have said his eyes were white, but up close, they reminded her much more of quartz crystal. They were a cloudy-clear color that would pick up hues of things nearby. When he looked in the direction of the wall sconces, his eyes would show specks of yellow and red as they reflected the firelight. When he looked down toward the table, they would reflect the bluish color of the inlaid tile. Their unusualness added something to the intensity of his gaze, and Leah couldn’t decide whether she was unnerved or intrigued by them.

Leah jotted her observations down in a small notepad. There was so much that was odd about Kian - his antiquated dialect, his lack of rocky patches, his strange eyes, the unusual scar, not to mention the darkness he carried inside him. Individually these things didn’t mean much, but together, perhaps they added up to something. Though what that might be, Leah couldn’t exactly say.

Kian of course had noticed her looking, or rather, staring rudely at him, but it wasn’t until she started writing that he spoke up.

“Is that about me?” Kian asked as he inclined his head toward the notebook.

“Yeah,” Leah replied. “I’m just jotting down observations, writing down ideas on where to look to help you unravel this mystery. So… now that there are fewer distractions, are you up for answering some more questions?”

“Distractions…” Kian repeated hollowly. “You mean the ‘orc’ who threatened to set me on fire and feed me to that beast?” He sneered as he spoke of Leah’s friend Heroya. “Or perhaps you meant the shaman with the attention span of a saurid?”

Leah smirked. “I suppose working with those two is a bit like herding sabertusk cubs, yes. But that didn’t stop them from making quick work of you in that cave, did it?” 

If looks could kill, Leah would have most assuredly dropped dead in that moment. “They got lucky,” the Zandalari spat. 

“Maybe so. Sometimes that’s all it takes.” Leah shrugged. “Either way, you’re here now. Let’s focus, please.”

Kian stared daggers at Leah for a long while, and Leah stared right back, placid and unaffected. Finally, Kian conceded. “Alright, little trolless.”

“Good.” Leah nodded. “So exactly how far back can you remember?” “Perhaps a month? Two at the most.” The Zandalari shook his head. “I really could not say. It’s patchy. The times I do recall all seem to blend together, and there are parts missing.”

“That’s okay,” Leah remarked as she scratched more notes onto her pad. “And you don’t remember anything at all before that?”

Kian closed his eyes and seemed to really concentrate for a moment. He opened them and sighed. “No. Nothing.”

Leah continued nodding as she recorded his answers. “And you came from the north, you said. From the swamp?”

“I… I must have. Yes. I remember wading in water. Then there was an ascending path, and a rope bridge. I tried to cover as much ground as I could, I slept in caves, under rock outcroppings, in the hollows of trees…”

At this, Leah furiously scribbled the words “blood troll” and “captive” both followed by question marks. She looked up at Kian for a moment. “And did you encounter anyone as you traveled?”

The Zandalari again closed his eyes and tried to picture the journey in his mind. There were parts that were missing, parts where he only saw red. He worried about just what that meant. “N-no,” he stammered before opening his eyes and looking directly at Leah. This time he repeated himself more confidently. “No. There was no one. You and your friends were the first people I encountered.”

Leah squinted hard at the mon before taking down his answer. “Okay. So, what can you tell me about this scar?”

As Leah pointed her pen toward his abdomen, Kian lifted a hand to absentmindedly touch his scar and then flinched as if it hurt. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he repeated with apparent distress. 

Leah reached out toward him and motioned for him to calm down. “Shh. Everything’s alright. You’re safe here,” the trolless soothed.

This lapse of memory seemed different than what he’d displayed so far; it seemed to Leah more like a trauma response. It was like Kian remembered that something bad had happened to him, but his mind had buried it deeply so as to keep him from ever having to relive it. This was unfortunately something Leah had seen before while serving the Horde’s army, particularly back during the Icecrown campaign. Watching the undead that used to be your comrades turn on you and try to tear you apart tended to have that effect on people. She’d known quite a few soldiers who came back home with more than their share of trauma after witnessing the horrors of the Scourge. Hell, she’d come close to being one herself.

Before Leah could get too lost in her own memories, the atmosphere of the room began to change. She could sense the same strange feeling from the caving rising again. Kian slammed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Aiden, Leah’s canine companion who had up until this point been curled up placidly in the corner, now stood and emitted a low growl, ready to attack on his master’s word. Leah watched intently and prepared to call on her own mojo to her just in case she had a fight on her hands. 

After a tense moment, the heavy feeling in the room dissipated, and Kian opened his eyes. Immediately, he dashed toward the front door, but unable to cross the threshold still, he doubled over and vomited onto the floor.

“Sorry… sorry,” he panted as he grimaced at the sour taste of black coffee and bile.

Leah sprang up from the table to grab a kitchen towel and jar of baking soda. After handing the towel to Kian, she shooed away Aiden, who had gotten up to sniff the pile of sick in that way dogs do. She then sprinkled the powder on the floor to soak up the mess and offered Kian a reassuring smile. “That’s alright. Nothing we can’t clean up. You sit back down, I’ll get you some water.” 

Kian pressed the towel to his mouth, wiped away the vomit, and did as he was bade. Leah brought him some water. After a few moments, she swept away the dried up vomit and the powder and rejoined her house guest at the table. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wouldn’t have asked if I had known it’d be that upsetting.”

“How were you supposed to know?” Kian shrugged. “I didn’t even know. I cannot remember anything about it at all. You would think that would mean it wouldn’t bother me.” He looked down at the floor and heaved a sigh heavy with weariness and frustration.

“Should we take a break from this?” Leah asked.

“I am fine,” he answered a little too quickly.

 Leah arched an eyebrow doubtfully at the stranger, but proceeded all the same. “Alright. Tell me about this darkness inside you.”

“It is… difficult to describe. It’s always with me. I feel it lurking just below the surface. It’s like having a voice in my head, giving me ideas, urging me to do things. They sound like my own thoughts do, and I feel the desire to do what they tell me, but it feels foreign. It’s inside of me, but it is not me. I…” The mon sighed. “I do not know how to explain it any better than that.”

“I think I understand,” Leah replied. “What kind of thoughts do you have? What does it tell you to do?”

“Well,” the Zandalari replied, “right now, the voice is telling me if I were quick enough, I could snatch that pencil from your hand and jam it through your eyeball.”

Leah almost chuckled. “Really? Then why haven’t you tried to do it?”

“Because it’s not in control, I am. For now.”

“So, when I feel it,” Leah said while motioning to herself, “when the whole atmosphere around you changes, that’s the darkness trying to take control of you? It’s trying to push your consciousness to the back of your mind so it can make you do what it wants?” Kian nodded. “I believe so, yes.” “And do you have any idea what triggers it to try to take over?”

The Zandalari shrugged. “Sometimes if I feel angry or I’m threatened, it can manifest -”

“So like when we confronted you in the cave?” Leah interjected.

“Yes. But other times it seems completely random.”

“And you can’t control it at all?” Kian’s shoulders slumped. He looked defeated. “Most of the time, it is… just easier if I don’t try. I can resist on occasion, but it takes every ounce of concentration I have, and it seems to punish me for resisting. It can be incredibly painful. Or make me violently ill.” “Like just now when you puked on the floor?” Leah asked.

“Yes,” the mon replied, looking embarrassed. “And even when I give it everything I have, sometimes I still lose. Which is… frustrating.” 

Frustrating didn’t seem like the word he wanted to use, but it was the one he settled on nevertheless. Leah supposed she understood.

“I can imagine,” the huntress replied. “So you want help with this so you can stop killing?”

Kian shook his head. “No, you misunderstand me. The killing is not what bothers me. I like killing. I am good at it. I enjoy the smell of blood. I take pleasure in watching the light go out in someone’s eyes, and knowing that I caused it. Taking a life… it is… the closest mortals get to being gods,” he leered sinisterly. 

Leah squinted hard at the mon, unsure of what to make of that confession. “Not sure I agree with you there.”

“To each their own, I suppose,” Kian replied. “Tell me, little trolless, have you ever killed before?”

Something about the way Kian looked at her made Leah uncomfortable; she felt like he was trying to decide how best to cook and eat her. Perhaps he was.

“Yes,” Leah answered matter-of-factly. “But if you think I’m gonna share the lurid details so you can get your rocks off, forget it.”

Kian’s lip curled up in a smirk, but he continued to look at her with that cold, shark-like gaze. “You won’t even tell me which one was your favorite?”

“It’s gonna be you if you keep talking about this,” Leah snarked. 

Kian raised his eyebrows and his mouth split into a sinister grin. “I hope that’s a promise.”

This confused Leah. “You don’t value your own life?”

“In the end, we are all just meat for the feast, blood for the sacrifice,” he shrugged.

The huntress narrowed her eyes. “And what Loa do you worship who requires such a tribute?”

The mon opened his mouth to respond, but stopped. Another thing he couldn’t remember. Leah jotted this down; perhaps another sign he’d been forsaken by his Loa? Kian grew visibly distressed. A troll’s Loa was an important part of their existence, if he couldn’t remember his, then he was truly lost. Who would he call on for help now when he needed it most? 

“It’s okay. We can come back to that,” Leah assured him. “Don’t worry about it for now.”

The mon shifted uneasily in his seat, but otherwise said nothing. Leah eyed him warily, worried for a moment that he might have another episode, but to her relief, the darkness didn’t return. 

“I am fine,” Kian barked when his eyes met Leah’s. He seemed annoyed at her concern.

Leah shook her head. “So if the killing doesn’t bother you, then if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you agree to let me help you?”

Kian looked as if he were considering how to phrase his answer. “Listen, Leah… it is Leah, correct?” The huntress nodded slowly.

“Leah, I need you to understand something,” the mon continued. “I know what I sound like when I say I like killing, but think of me as a… tradesmon who is proud of his hard work.”

“Uh huh,” Leah said, unimpressed. She wasn’t exactly buying into the tradesmon analogy. “And what exactly is your trade? Hunter? Soldier? Mercenary? Assassin?”

He sighed wearily. “I am sure this doesn’t come as a shock, but I don’t recall. The point I’m trying to make is - I am not a mindless butcher. I am precise, I am methodical. If I had been in my right mind when I killed those dinosaurs on the game reserve, you would have never caught me. I am not that sloppy. However this… thing inside me, it turns me into a mindless butcher. When it takes me, I kill without direction or purpose. It steals my mind and forces my hand, and then robs me of my memory. It is that which I cannot abide. I want it gone. I want to be my own master.”

Leah noticed as the stranger talked that his voice was deep and lilting. It was pleasant to listen to, even in spite of the subject at hand. It also struck her as somewhat odd that even though he claimed to remember nothing from his past, he spoke with such conviction about his skills and love of killing. Whoever this mon was, whatever this affliction was that he suffered from, Leah found him interesting, if a bit dramatic.

“And what will you do, once you’re free to do as you please?” she asked.

This question gave the mon pause. “I could not say. Right now, I cannot even picture what life might be like without these thoughts, these urges. Seems foolish to make plans.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Leah conceded. There would be time to figure all this out later. For now she needed to focus on the matter at hand, which was figuring out what the hell his dark mojo was that Kian carried within him. 

Leah quietly continued to scribble for a moment. Possession? Mind-control? She scrawled these ideas hurriedly into her notes. Did he actually have a separate entity living inside him? How would she even go about testing that? Find and contact a demoniac, she wrote. 

As for mind-control, Leah wasn’t so sure about that. The two types of trollish mind control she was the most intimately acquainted with were Zalazane and Zanzil’s methods, and none of their victims were ever lucid enough to know they were being controlled. The fact that Kian was even a little aware of what was happening made his condition wholly unique so far as she knew. 

She followed up her thoughts with a note to consult the Chroniclers’ archives next time she was in the city. Dazar’alor boasted one of the most extensive libraries on Azeroth, containing information dating all the way back to the first written records of the trolls - literally thousands of years of accumulated knowledge. The Chroniclers’ collection of information on trollish rituals and magical practices was unmatched. If there was an answer to be found, surely Leah would find it there. At last, she now had a few ideas on where to start her research, so that was something. It was time to set the ground rules.

“Alright, Kian. I think I have everything I need for now, so let me tell you how I see this working. Ideally, I’d like you to have a modicum of freedom while you’re here. You’re going to be confined to this room for now, and you’ll only be allowed to leave if you’re under my direct supervision, but it’s not my intention to keep you chained up. I’m sure this goes without saying, but if you feel that mojo coming on, you’re going to have to try to fight it. I’ll help however I can, but we both know it’ll mostly be up to you. If things go well, I’ll give you more run of the house and maybe the yard, we’ll see. Once we figure this out, and I’m sure you won’t be a danger to anyone, you’ll be free to go your own way. How does that sound?” 

Leah extended her hand for Kian to shake. He studied her with an inscrutable expression, his eyes darting from her hand to her face. Finally, he accepted her hand. “It sounds reasonable.”

Leah smiled. “Alright. So are you hungry?”

“That is the second time you have asked me that question,” Kian remarked. “And yet you still haven’t answered,” Leah said teasingly. “Seriously, can I get you something to eat?”

“No,” Kian replied gruffly. “Are you sure?” Leah chirped. “I have a lovely brutosaur stew I could heat up for you.”

The Zandalari scowled up at Leah. She would help him, yes, but he was a prisoner, and this exchange between them should stay purely transactional. He didn’t want to be Leah’s friend, and he wasn’t about to be bought off with homemade stew. But… something warm to eat might be nice after living in the wild and eating whatever he could scarf down quickly. Grudgingly he nodded his acquiescence. Kian had to admit that the stew Leah dished up was a far cry better than what he had been eating the last couple of months. The meat and vegetables were tender and well-seasoned, the broth rich and filling. Much tastier than stringy, raw, cold ravasaur meat and foraged mushrooms that tasted like dirt. He finished his first bowl and mopped it clean with some bread Leah had set out for him. Then Leah offered him seconds and he eagerly accepted. She seemed happy to see him eat; Kian was a bit suspicious of this, but not enough to stop him from eating his fill. 

After the dishes were all cleared away and the leftover stew stored in the icebox, Leah slipped upstairs for a moment, leaving Kian once more under the watchful eye of her hunting companion Aiden. She returned momentarily with an armful of books. “Here, so you don’t get too bored down here,” she explained as she set the tomes down on the table. “And here’s a notepad and pen so you can doodle or keep a journal or whatever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to remove all the pointy objects from the kitchen, and then get out of your hair so you can rest.”

Once Leah and Aiden had departed for the night, Kian took up his books and moved to the sleeping mat Leah had placed in the corner. It was no down mattress, but it was dry and reasonably comfortable. Compared to his previous accommodations in the cave, he may as well have been staying in Queen Talanji’s royal chambers.

Freshly showered and with a full belly, Kian felt more like a person than he had since he could remember. He propped himself up against the wall and picked up the book that was lying on the top of the pile. The title read boldly in all uppercase letters LEARN TO SPEAK ORCISH: How to Sound Like a Native Speaker in No Time at All! Kian scoffed. He wouldn’t be reading that one any time soon. The little bit of Orcish he’d heard the others speak tonight sounded coarse to his ears; Zandali with its smooth lyricalness was the obvious superior language in his mind. He looked at the book a little more closely before setting it aside. It was old and frequently used - the spine was cracked and worn and some of the pages were dog-eared. Kian wondered for a moment if Leah had used this same book when she had learned the language; she was clearly fluent in it. Meanwhile he didn’t even know what an orc was, nor could he remember seeing one previous to meeting Leah’s fiery friend. Had Leah not told him different, he would have guessed the tall, muscular orc woman to be an Amani troll, albeit with a birth defect that gave her too many fingers and toes.

Kian flipped open the front cover of the Orcish language primer. On the inside, in handwritten Zandali print read, “Leah Sid’he Darkspear, Year 21.” What year is it now? Kian thought. He scowled in frustration when he realized he didn’t know. So many things he should know, so many things he couldn’t remember. Maybe in time it would come to him. For now, he needed a distraction. He picked up the next book - A Comprehensive History of the Troll Empires, by Chronicler Tokini. Nope. Too heavy and too serious for the moment. 

The third book in the stack was a paperback that featured an illustration of a bland looking shirtless mon flanked by two busty elven women. The title, written in flowing script across the cover read Hot and Misty. Kian shrugged, cracked open the book and began to read. He’d only been reading for approximately a half an hour when he snapped the book shut and proclaimed to no one in particular, “This is rubbish!” The protagonist, Marcus, had to be without a doubt the most milquetoast character ever. And why were these women fawning all over him? Did Leah actually like this stuff? Kian would most certainly question her about this later. She seemed too smart to like such tripe.

There was only one book left. Kian was pleasantly surprised to find it was a compilation of Zandali poetry. He flipped it open to a random poem and began to read. And then he read another, and another. Each rhyme, each stanza felt like it awakened something deep in him, though he couldn’t say just what. He read until the wee hours, until he could no longer hold his eyes open, then drifted off into the first comfortable sleep he’d had in what felt like ages.

[sheepieberry]

PATHETIC YAN BOY SUMMER

Ft Kian and Kylar (the most boyfriends ever)

Extra doodle below!

Thank u for voting on the poll!!! Love u guys hehe

[cowardlylittlebranchman]

quick kian thing i didnt put much though into. the demons want me to relisten to bitb

[snickerdoodlesart]

I’m planning on a BitB animatic, but I’m restraining myself until Procreate Dreams comes out. Unfortunately this means I’ll completely miss finishing it when BitB’s anniversary rolls around :(

To occupy myself I made designs for the trio back in their teenage years that are going to show up for a solid 3 seconds in the animatic. I’ll probably make more designs for other characters that don't have an explicit design in BitB too

[cleverpaws]

guys i cant believe it. kian stone got so popular they made guitars real

[okiankeno]

oh I think I hallucinated but Angela did play a singular note for me (and said my name?) on the piano in the mamma mia but different live on ig when she did the for every name in the chat I'll play a note....

[a-cat-in-toffee]

okay chat im not a super huge car guy geenrally i dont know much about them. but what type of car do we think suck rand would drive? because on one hand rand driving a shitty fucking station wagon would be fucking hilarious but also maybe nbr would only have one car? and the three of them would argue for a while but probably settle on something that wouldnt stand out too much but is still very pretty like a chevy impala (nonbiased statement) or a mercury marquis (another totally nonbiased statement) from around the 60s-70s (rand insists on a tape/CD player)

[calbeloved]

i wish i could think about gal without mentioning god in any way but also. i was forced to be catholic growing up and it made me become gods biggest hater and gal is literally like that but implified 1000 times. he can have a complex relationship with god. as a treat.

[leahdarkspear]

When you close your eyes, what do you see? Do you hold the light or is darkness underneath? In your hands, there's a touch that can heal But in those same hands, is the power to kill

Are you a man or a monster?

Introducing my Zandalari warrior Kian, a mon with a dark past who is tormented by forces beyond his understanding, struggling to rise above it all.

Big thanks to @kissfortheelves for helping me bring him to life!

[sheepieberry]

How did Kian and Xavier met in the first place? Was Kian a groupie, or just literally living his life?

Hi anon!!!! THANK U FOR ASKING AAAUGGHHHH I love those two sm

Kian was literally just living his life…. So here I mentioned before that Kian was sent away somewhere for awhile! He was actually sent to the US for 2 years!

Reasons being that before his parents had died he was under contract as a child model, but then you know, they died (big shoutout to Kians mom for that). He’s still under that contract but it’s been postponed due to him being underaged and grieving the lost of his family, Kian is put in foster care for awhile before eventually ending up in Baileys care, the relationship between them is rocky but Kian is meek and flinches away from hands, like a dog that been kicked one too many times, but a scared dog can still lash out, and that’s what happened with Kian, he did something Bailey didn’t like and had to pay for it, (he begs one of the only friends in town he has, someone not trapped under Baileys thumb the way he is, a sweet boy at the church for help, only to be met with averted eyes and a trembling frown, that’s the day Kian really wishes he had died with his family)

Kian gets sent away to the US, sent back to the company he had a contract under and in their care, he’s still a child after all, but he’s still Baileys property, that gives him comfort although it shouldn’t, it tells him he hasn’t been abandoned, not yet.

Kian is 16, a young and pretty thing with no proper adult around, it attracts the attention of all the wrong types of people, it attracts a man named Xavier.

Xavier is a star, a handsome man in his early 20’s, famous in his movies and for being a heartthrob with a gentle smile, he’s asked to model in a photoshoot with a partner, a small and soft wilting figure.

He meets Kian

More under the cut!!!! Tw for SA, Underage, drugging, Emotional and Physical abuse, attempted suicide

To Xavier, it’s almost infatuation at first sight, it’s romantic, it could be love

The shoot the photos, Kian doesn’t smell the way a boy his age should, he smells soft, sweet, like vanilla and peaches, it’s mouthwatering- Xavier wonders what kind of noise Kian would make if he bit hard enough to bleed, would he taste sweet?

It doesn’t take much for Xavier to convince a producer to,, scout Kian for a small role in a film Xavier’s plays in, Xavier isn’t a actor for nothing after all, soft smiles and touches, he can be kind to Kian, teach him the ropes and help him when he stumbles throughout the shoot, help him remember his lines and caress his head softly when he gets something right, a sugar sweet act that pays off when Kian stares up at him with shy mismatched eyes, pale face pink with flush and a smile, because Kian is young and dumb, and he’d do anything to feel important to someone

The movie is finished, it’s gonna be a hit, any movie with Xavier always is

A late night afterparty is planned, adults drinking and doing things they shouldn’t-

Kian is there, he shouldn’t be, but Xavier promised to take care of him, a warm hand against the low of his back, and Kian trusts him, why wouldn’t he? Xavier has done such a good job taking care of him these last few months after all. Kian trusts him, trusts him enough to find a drink he’s allowed in this party full of alcohol, trusts him enough to tell Xavier when he starts feeling bad, a throbbing pain in his skull and nausea brewing in his stomach, weak and woozy, he trusts Xavier to take him home-

Kian doesn’t go home that night, he doesn't go home for few nights.

Xavier helpfully tells Kians manager that the boy needs a break, poor thing, working so hard for others. It's a good thing Xaviers here, it gets lonely in this big house, he's happy to host Kian for as long as needed. And as he hangs up the phone it's all done, and Kian is his, even if just for awhile, Xavier smiles as he brushes back dark hair from a sweaty forehead, Kians such a pretty little thing, even more so like this, pliant and drugged up in Xavier’s bed, eyes unfocused and foamy drool escaping his mouth

"Une si jolie petite rose~" he whispers more to himself, he knows Kian can't hear him even if he wanted to, not in the state he's in, it doesn't matter though, Xavier will say it over and over again, just so Kian knows how much he's adored, and Kian stares, body unwilling to move as he stares at the ceiling, a body slotting itself between his legs

It doesn't take long for Xavier to start officially sponsoring Kian, everyone with a brain in the industry knows what that means, what it entails for a boy his age, Kian is 17 and he wonders how much it would hurt to die, if it would hurt at all when compared to living like this, if this even counts as living-

Xavier is sweet, he always is, he tolerates kians scratches and outbursts, his screams and his tears, he watches Kian flip through conflicting emotions, the strain it puts on him, he doesn't want Kian to break from the demons in his head, he'd prefer it at his own instead, he gets taken to the doctors and leaves with two things, a bag full of medicine bottles with names he can't pronounce and a diagnosis for BPD, looking at his history the doctors assume it's genetic, the car ride to Xaviers home is quiet

Kian thinks about his mom for the first time in years, and he let's Xavier pull him into a gentle embrace, let's Xavier hold him and he weeps, in the arms of a man who's done horrible, horrible things to him, but is the only one there to hold him like a child, the child Kian often forgets he still is

Hes softer after that, Kian, a saccharine smile and empty eyes, he let's Xavier touch all he wants and puts up no fuss, just a smile and a stare, the day of his 18th birthday Xavier gifts him earrings, a reminder of the dull ache in ears, Xavier had done them himself, Kian thanks him with a kiss, one of Kians own will, a first in these 2 years, Xavier thinks he'd break kians legs if it would mean spending the rest of their lives together, Xavier thinks he's in love, but there's only so much a man in love can do when he wakes up to an empty bed, looking around the house to see light from the bathroom and a boy bleeding and quiet in the tub, water a deep red and head lolled back, there's nothing much for him do to, throat rubbed raw from his yells, shaking hands phone for a hospital, for help, hands wet and red as he drags a far too cold body into his hands and prays for the first time in his life to a god that doesn't exist, cause if they did, a good merciful god would've never let Xavier touch Kian

Kian survives, but he's unconscious and weak, Xavier visits for a week straight, bouquets of flowers in tow everyday, until he comes into an empty hospital room

Word spreads quickly, especially to Bailey, it's no surprise the minute he knew his most profitable ward had fucked up yet again that he sends for Kian, he wakes up and isn't even given half a day of rest before he's loaded up to a plane back, woozy from pain dulling drugs, a familiar feeling, and finger tips almost blue and numb with how tightly wrapped those bandages are around his arms, but he's comforted by a single thought, Bailey wouldnt tell anyone about his wards mistakes, and Xavier would think that empty hospital room belonged to a dead boy

[mysticalfireflycollector]

our lord and savior

[pulchrasilva]

Last night I was laughing about Kian because to be fair it is objectively hilarious that this is how he died but overnight I have become mentally unwell about it

[jrwiyuri]

RANDDD my gf..

[burning-sol]

me remembering how that eldritchstrings fic took 7 months to get around to finishing.. like when i say im not a writer i mean it.

i'm like what the fuck this is going to take forever man.

[red-might-be-dead]

hello hi here to force strange thoughts into your brain once again, this time about jrwi (wow who could’ve guessed)

been thinking about this for a little but it’s basically what i think some campaigns would be if not podcasts, i haven’t listened to some of the older ones so i’m sorry they’re not on here :(( if you have any ideas feel free to add them btw :DD

RIPTIDE!!!!! - really long animated series

not an anime though, no matter how much grizzly wants it, it would be an animation style where the characters could have very clearly different nose, face and body shapes, really pushing my riptide nose agenda here sorry, each episode would be like 20-40 minutes long and instead of coming out in seasons there would be massive gaps in between episodes, from 2-6 months long, to leave time for writers and animators to get stuff done (massive team of animators btw, i feel like it would be pretty successful)

PRIME DEFENDERS!! - comics

literally nothing else they could be, just really well made, well performing comics (i’ve already talked about this before you can stalk my talk tag if you really want to find it lmao), the comic company making them would be keeping well away from movies n shit btw

APOTHEOSIS!!! - i wasn’t really sure about this one to be honest

i had to ask my friend and she said anime which i don’t agree with but i can see it, i think maybe a short book series where each book is 150 - 300 pages and is about a different god they have to kill/a different episode, i think that works but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me :D!!

BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!! - i hate to say it, i really do…

bitb would be a really long really good 80s horror book with strong homoerotic undertones, a satisfied fanbase and lots of active members in the community making fan comics, films, writing, theories and art ect… until well after the book came out……….. and then it would be made into the most egregious and awful live action movie you have ever seen, the most awful casting (like chris pratt as officer dudes….. throws up) and even worse sfx, oh yeah and the characters would be ruined and the story would become so butchered it wouldn’t make sense, they would do some shit like cut out becky so kian just kisses some random lady (removing both a really good and well written character and a layer of kian’s character that i think is super important) and make rolan really be an evil bug spy the whole time so rand has to kill him to save the town also add in a whole new sub plot that never existed like the rand family is secretly a long line of bug alien hunters or something fucking stupid like that and the entire fanbase would murder whoever thought re-writing the story was a good idea (ahaha can you tell ive been through something like this before ahahaha, character morals and motives being removed and whatnot ahahahhahahaha.)

anyways………

THE SUCKENING!!! - live action series

it would be well made though, unlike the bitb movie it would be its own original thing, have great makeup and effects also be well casted and well shot, well written, ect ect, it would bloody and gory and not suitable for people who can’t handle showing bones and organs all over everywhere, lots of shitty rip off merch would be made though and the fandom would be 99% gay little freaks (normal suckening enjoyers) and 1% homophobic straight white men who get mad whenever they see soda and emizel having gay sex on screen or whatever fag shit that biting thing was

again feel free to add your thoughts and ideas and shit in the reblogs it would be nice to read them :DD!!