sensitive topics dance with the fire — death

Feb 18, 2023
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anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
tw / brief mention of gore, nothing extreme, but enough to give you a visual, the rest is up for the imagination. there are some mentions of traps and hunting guns, but they're mostly implied ! didn't go into detail ! just a quick sentence ( or two words ) and that's pretty much it. if you are uncomfortable, there will be a small summary below !

“Shadowfire!” He shouted, voice booming across the pines, watching the black-and-white tom vanish in search of his brother. “Damnit!” He hissed, shooting a glance over his shoulder. Idiot. He followed his dimwitted brother, skin prickling with unease.

A singular optic narrowed, quickening his pace. Things had been quiet ( too quiet ). A distinctive boom reverberated through the forest, startling the male, nearly causing him to skid across the floor, sending dirt flying. “Shadowfire! Smokefang!” He roared, expression flickering, gone was his indifference. Foxdung. “Don’t you dare.” He snarled, flying through the undergrowth, kicking up dirt.

Blood roared in his ears as he came to a stop, chest heaved to stare at Shadowfire’s crumbled body. The male’s chest barely rises save for the quiet whines escaping his maw.

Duskpool stared, expression unreadable until a laugh bubbled out, sounding off-putting and grief-stricken. He stumbled over towards Shadowfire’s crumbled frame, staring into amber optics, watching as his chest rattled, wheezing with each intake of air. It wasn’t until he caught sight of Smokefang’s familiar pelt did he let out a grief-stricken sound, hanging limp between steel bars, icy hues lifeless.

“Smokefang—” His legs nearly gave out from beneath him until Shadowfire’s pained whines broke through. He couldn’t lose anyone else. Please. He couldn’t. Not now. He was supposed to protect them. He failed. His skin pickled, helm shaking with a bitter smile on darkened lips until his mind betrayed him. Bringing up painful memories, ones filled with bloodied bodies and hallowed screams begging him to save them, but he couldn’t.

He should have remembered that life was cruel and unjust. He shouldn’t have stayed. He was a sinner. He wasn’t supposed to be happy. He should have stayed damn well away from the camp. He knew better. He knew and yet he still opened his heart up for the world to see, bleeding and raw.

Damnit! He stumbled, collapsing beside his fallen brother, barely holding on. “It’s alright, kid.” He smiled, expression pinched with a paw resting against Shadowfire’s side. He ignored the blood, leaning over to press his nose against the other’s cheek, breathing in the last of his cinnamon bark scent. “Gonna help ya out, alright?” He spoke with unfathomable calmness despite the tremor in his paws. He rumbled. Letting his tongue glide over Shadowfire’s forehead, paw wiping his tears until teeth sunk into familiar flesh. He ignored the blood that coated his tongue until his frame fell limp did Duskpool pull away with a muffled sob, pressing a paw against his maw.

“Give your brother my greetings, ya hear?” He laughed, optic crinkling, helm turning to stare at anything but his brothers' broken forms. “Tell ‘em I’m sorry.” He squeezed an optic, rigid claws digging into the saturated ground. I’m sorry, kid. “Couldn’t protect ya then and sure as hell couldn’t protect ya now.” He laughed, pressing a paw against his throbbing temple. “Not that you two idiots needed it.” He grinned brokenly.

“Sure didn’t need me butting in.”

His paws were too stained. That he’d never be worth it. It seemed he had forgotten that lesson, but he’d make damn sure he remembered it as it burned into his skin. Sinners don't get happiness. It’d only end badly for someone else as he stared at broken bodies only a whisker-length away.

It wasn’t until the snap of a twig broke him out of his trace. He turned with bloodstained lips, eyes empty at whoever, ignoring the way his eyes burned. “What?” He hissed. He didn’t need apologies. No. He needed to stay away from them all if they knew what was good for them.

To hell with what-ifs.

/ prompt ! smokefang went off in search of prey, landing himself in a trap that killed him instantly, followed by shadowfire where duskpool finds them. shadowfire is barely hanging onto life, shot on accident by a twolegs where duskpool makes a difficult decision, putting him out of his misery ( really was no hope of saving him ).

while duskpool isn't known for being very expressive, he still has emotions underneath that tough exterior. explore a situation that causes that exterior to crack - does something funny make him smile or even chuckle? what about outright anger or annoyance at a clanmate?
thought speech
 
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A horrid, explosive sound shatters the sky, the peaceful silence of the pine forest, and Blazestar’s fur prickles with fear. He turns to the she-cat he’s taken under his metaphorical wing, meeting the green of her eyes. “Trouble,” he says, his hackles fluffing up. “Stay back. Be careful.” The keening of a grieving feline reaches them—and as Blazestar makes his way through the pines to find the cat who’d made the awful sound, he realizes he recognizes the voice. Duskpool, often so stoic and resolute, but the scene he finds explains it all.

He can see Smokefang’s body, cold. Duskpool hovers over another shape, the dark pelt worn by Brightpaw’s mentor, Shadowfire. Blazestar’s blue eyes stretch wide across his face. “StarClan, no,” he whispers, a tremor shaking his voice. “What…” And then he can see the blood smeared across Duskpool’s muzzle, just as the hulking black and white warrior turns flaring golden eyes on him. “What?” he snaps, but Blazestar does not recoil. Shadowfire is dead, too, bleeding from wounds inflicted not only by a cat.

You mercy-killed him.” Pain edges the leader’s voice. “Twolegs?...” He can see the trap Smokefang had been caught in, and he shudders. “StarClan help them.


  • @bobbie pseudo-apprentice tag
  • blaise . blazestar
    — he/him ; leader of skyclan
    — pansexual ; divorced ; single
    — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Mercibun
 
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✿—— minor tw for emetophobia / vomiting
it's an exceptionally normal greenleaf day, crossing the peace of the pine forest with blazestar's heavy golden shape at her side—if his stature gave him the upper paw in their battle training, at least it made her feel exceptionally safe when they were out in the territory. a safety so, so easily broken, as she finds out in a mere moment. the quiet air is broken into pieces in an instant, a terrible noise spearing it and making the thick mane along her neck rise anxiously. the ragdoll meets her eyes, his own fur rumpled, warns her to be careful. bobbie dips her head, nodding, and replies quietly, "alright."

she trails after him, perhaps a bit closer than necessary, a terrible grief-laugh rattling the air like turned bones. the scene they come upon is horrific—duskpool, who calls her 'kid' and takes on so much work he faints, bent grieving over two cooled forms. the two cats lying on the earth are bent and broken in ways a cat shouldn't be, blood slicking the ground and smearing duskpool's face. even blazestar, usually (in her eyes) so solid and strong in ways she simply isn't, holds a shake to his voice more reminiscent of her own as he pleads with the stars to help them.

"starclan, i think -" her eyes are wide and pallid, fixed on the twisted bodies and the blood soaking the earth. she has no adrenaline to lift her above the sight, and horror rises in her throat until, "i think i'm going to be s-sick," she mews abruptly, rushing off towards one of the sparse patches of underbrush and throwing up as quietly as she's able. wiping at her mouth, she hazards a glance back—wanting to return, unsure if the horror-induced turning of her stomach has passed.

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  • ooc: ——
  • nothing here, have a nice day :-)
  • 69139399_py669CBh1zLPqxi.png
    — bobbie
    — she/her ; warrior of skyclan ; 40 ☾s
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — chibi by its_oliverr
    — penned by dejavu

 
Angry at all the things I can't change
The unnatural boom that ricochets throughout the forest sends his hackles into a frenzy, prickled and thick as he gives pause. The scent of blood follows soon after, flooding the area along with the sound of distant wailing. Somewhere along his peripheral he spots Blazestar and Bobbie edging toward the scene and he is quick to follow. Green eyes flare wide upon what he finds. The bodies of both Smokefang and Shadowfire lay limp at Duskpool's paws, the tom's own jaws marred with crimson. Blazestar speaks out, immediately identifying one of the deaths as a mercy kill after the grieving ton snaps a quick "What?" Coyotecrest's ears pin against his broad skull, stomach churning at the sheer amount of red painting the forest floor and the monstrous trap that imprisoned the other. As if they really needed to lose any more cats. The young warrior takes a steady breath, empathy lacing his tone as he glanced between the two toms. "Twolegs..." The word is grit out from betwixt his fangs. For a moment he is thrust back into his kitten days, watching Thistleback stumble and collapse into camp after a similar encounter. Twolegs were such cruel monsters. Shaking his head he looked back at Duskpool. "I'm sorry, Duskpool." No one should have to be in such a position.
When you're lost in the universe don't lose faith
 
Commission_-_Fireflypaw_IcarusFell3.png
Fireflypaw steps with careful purpose as an NPC runs to go fetch himself and the high priest. The smell of vomit is subtle as he arrives, head swiveling to look towards Bobbie's direction momentarily with a worried expression. He would have to check on her soon, but for now.. His objective is to honor the dead, and as he pads over to where his father stands, he finds himself saddened at the smell of blood.

Two cats have died on this day. Twolegs.

You mercy-killed him. Blazestar says, and confliction bubbles up inside of Fireflypaw. Is that it? Someone can come along and just.. Put a cat out of their misery, kill them so they don't suffer long? He blinks, confused. "May the Mother take good care of their bodies, and StarClan their souls." Fireflypaw quips up with a hum, kneading the ground with his paws. This is first time he's ever experienced a mercy-killing. Something like this.. It confuses him, but it also made sense. To shed mercy on those who need it.

"We need to carry the bodies back to camp for their burial." He doesn't want to be the bearer of grim news, but it had to be done. They would be buried beneath the pines and stars, cloaked with the scent of lavender. Fireflypaw feels pinpricks beneath his coat, and fluffs up his fur as if cold. The dead speak their tunes on the wind, Mother's voice carrying past his ears.

Protect them, She whispers so softly against tufted ears, making them twitch in recognition. They would be safe in StarClan.​
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He laughed, bitter and cold, shaking his helm at Blazestar’s statement. Merciful? They should have never gone off on their own. But what-ifs were cruel and unforgiving, leaving one to wonder and fester in their misery because what if he’d arrived earlier?

Molten copper slithered to Smokefang’s broken form, expression conflicted. He could have died. He’d be lying if that didn’t scare him, but it was the what if he’d been there to shove them out of the way to have done something than to stumble over their bodies like some grieving parent? He didn’t have the right. To mourn them, because it should have been him lying there. Not them. Starclan, not them.

He nearly sobbed if it wasn’t for the paw pressing achingly against his maw, claws digging into the marred flesh, molten copper blurring from the tears threatening to fall blood-splattered cheeks. He didn’t have the right to cry out like this, over something he probably could have prevented.

They had so much to give, even if Smokefang was a pain in the ass and Shadowfire was an outspoken fool. They didn’t deserve this. He should be lying in a pool of his own damn blood while they mourned him. That would have been a better outcome, even if that meant leaving an apprentice he swore to protect, for Bobbie’s sake. He knew the feeling. Of losing a child too soon, and he hoped to Starclan she’d never have to experience that. Starclan knows how much that fucked him up.

But even if he died, he’d be leaving his kids too. Duskpool grinned bitterly because he was so tired. He wanted to stop losing everyone he’s cared for because damnit he didn’t think his heart could take it. Not like that. The thought of losing them again nearly sent him toppling over like a newborn fawn. Please don’t take anyone else away from me. He would beg if he had to. Make a fool out of himself just so they could live lives he could never have hoped to achieve.

To settle down and have kids of their own. To be happy. To enjoy life. To be selfish. To want. He wanted that more than anything for the cats he loves—family and friends, but staring at his brothers with a feeling of hollowness and so so much despair. He wondered—Shaking his helm, Duskpool huffed, turning to stare at the gathering felines with a blood-rimmed optic.

“Maybe.” He rumbled, nearly reaching towards Bobbie as she threw up into a bush, brow pinched. He shifted, subconsciously blocking the she-cat’s view from the gruesome sight, frame crouching as massive paws planted themselves more evenly. “Merciful or not. Still finished the job. Still killed him with my own teeth.” He grinned, staring achingly at Shadowfire’s cold form, chest constricting. He gritted his teeth, muffling the broken cry with a cough, helm turning to avoid anyone else looking.

It was a harsh truth, one that Duskpool didn’t come to realize so lightly. He was as much of a murderer as the upwalkers were. It might have been out of the goodness of his blackened heart. Mercy-killing was still killing.

He swallowed the bubble of laughter, helm pivoting to stare at Coyotecrest, molten copper narrowing. “What’s there to apologize for?” He rumbled, shaking his helm. He didn’t need apologies, not for this. He should have known better than to even think he could nurse the idea that maybe, just maybe he could have been happy. “Learned my lesson.” He grumbles, not at all caring if anyone heard him. It wasn’t like he’d explain, anyway.

He fucked up, and that was on him. He’d carry the burden just like every other life snatched away from him. With a sigh, Duskpool flickered his gaze to Fireflypaw, expression indifference save for the tear streaks down married cheeks.

Duskpool stared at the cold forms of his brothers, expression blank until a grief-stricken laugh bubbled past blood-stained lips, pressing a paw against his throbbing temple, breath shuttering. Damnit. He grinned, pressing his helm against Shadowfire’s icy flank, optic squeezed shut in a silent goodbye. I’m sorry, kid. His expression shifted, sighing through his nose before he pulled away to make his way towards Smokefang’s crumbled frame, icy optics wide—lifeless, neck trapped between steel bars. Stubborn idiot, but ya cared, didn’t ya? He thought, optic flickering with bittersweet humor, lips curled to press a paw against his unmoving flank, claws digging into the long tendrils. I’m sorry. He breathed, moving backward, torn ear flickering, turning to stare over his shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.” He rumbled, voice deadpan, expression tired.

He’d make damn sure he followed through with his promise. Pulling away to become something he had left behind since abandoning his nest in the forest, maybe not quite, but he couldn’t just pretend. He’d doom anyone that’d get close to him and Duskpool would rather die alone with regrets than see anyone else die for being a selfish foxheart because he entertained the idea that he could be happy.

With that, he held his helm high, shoulders held back to stare at the gathering group, molten copper narrowed. “I’ll tell Brightpaw, ya hear? Give her somethin’ to get mad at.”
thought speech