untitled [ VA collection ]

[alec]

[ content warning : these VAs might include topics such as death, murder, traumatic experiences etc. ]
[ every VA will be marked with appropriate triggers, read with caution. ]

─── ⋆⋅⛧⋅⋆ ───

I. WADING IN MY FEARS
II. IM NOT A MONSTER. IM JUST AHEAD OF THE CURVE
III. [placeholder]
IV. [placeholder]
V. [placeholder]


[ moved because i realised it kinda makes more sense to have it seperate ]

[alec]

[ content warning : this VA includes mentions of death, blood, fear/distress?, memory gaps ]

drip. cold. he was cold. minks eyes blurred, tears threatening to spill as the kit stared down at her fathers body, limp, smeared with blood and empty eyes staring back up at her. she nudged him again, trembling paws threatening to give out below the felines tiny body. no reaction. mink was shaking, choked sobs escaping her throat in between irregular gasps for air. where is mother? where is sissy? why is papa not waking up? dozens of unanswered questions plagued mink, her head was spinning, it was all too much. “p-papa? papa wake up please. please wake up” she choked out, tears now dripping down her face, she was frantic, fear pulsing through her like the disgusting slicky blood pooling by her fathers head once had.
blurred trees, the sky fell and met the ground, melting into deep grey fur, papa? where is papa? her head lulled to the side, muted green, brown slivers.
black.
drip. the river was rushing beneath her.
drip. icy water soaked into her fur, she was cold.
drip. she opened her eyes, it was warm. above her towered shaded figures, her heart skipped a beat. was this what her mother had always warned her of? had the darkforest come to take one of theirs? had she sinned? why else would they be here? mother will be so disappointed.
drip. she blinked awake once again, the rustle of dry leaves was what had awoken her. it was warm. she wasnt alone. where was she? where is papa? blurred gaze caught on something orange. her mind felt heavy, stuffed to the brim with thick fog. or perhaps some of the icy water had gotten inside.
drip. her mind was clearer, it was cold again. mink turned her head, the dull grey sky came into view. what is happening? why cant she get up? she was scared.
drip. she was awake, ‘riverclan’ the cats had told her. why would mother leave her here? she went along with the strange cats, let some of them take her outside, left the den, the safe den, the only place she had seen in stars knows how long. she didnt protest, let them teach her their ways. she didnt trust them. why didnt they just kill her? she felt cold.
drip. half melted snow slid down a branch, following the drops of water to the ground where it splashed against the tree stump. it was better now. the cold wasnt as biting as before, and she felt warm inside. pinefire would teach her how to hunt, properly this time, and she could almost remember the other feline hovering around the same space she had slept a few moons ago.
drip. the rain washed away the last of the snow, the murmur of it echoed in the medicine den, tansypaw was gone. cobwebpaw wasnt.
drip. somewhere beyond the fog minkpaw could hear water dripping onto stone, she strained her eyes, the fog was thick and held her in a pleasant embrace. a large starry, transculent cat came into view, his fluffy fur dripping with what she could only describe as stars, they were everywhere around now. he wasnt warm, but the embrace counted none the less.
drip. the rain slammed down onto the floodstone, soaking into sandy ground and mixing with the blood splattered and pooling beneath limp bodies. its echo turned into a loud roar, bouncing off the walls of the medicine den, she turned to exit.
drip. blood dripped off her fur and onto the ground. it wasnt her blood.
drip. the sharp white pain of claws tearing through flesh pulled her out of her daze, she watched hot crimson liquid make its way to the ground, to combine with that of the other. for the first time in many moons, everything went black.
drip. the yowling of cats was what shook her awake, she stumbled, shoulders aching, blood soaked and sticky. she had to help.
drip. the smooth dark stones beneath her paws are unfamiliar. damp stones and fog. damp stones, fog and minkpaw. damp stones, fog, minkpaw and? a lithe freckled form emerges from the fog, expression cold and educated. minkpaw doesnt recognise them, but hushed words are spoken quick.
drip. everything was quiet, she lifted her gaze, off of rainpaw and away from birdsnow. fadingsun had spoken.
drip. she heard muddy water drip with every step, mud soaked and tired she dragged herself into a bush.
drip. she had confessed to marigoldkit, spilled her heart and admitted to the selfish beast lurking beneath grey fur, hidden by calm and substained by anger. no. no she hadnt. the kit couldnt handle the entire truth. it wasnt lying if she just kept bits to herself, was it?
drip. goldfishs voice seemed to drip in her mind with every breath she took, concern that wasnt hers pooling heavy in her lungs. she had to reveal herself. but what would goldfish say?
drip. the guilt sits deep in her spine, dripping and dripping, coating her insides with nothing but regret. mink reaches out to touch her nose to one of goldfishs kits, tiny and damp and deserving of so much more.
drip. there it is again. the low dripping of water on stone, surrounded by fog minkpaw cant figure out what actually causes the noise. marigoldkit is hurt, but understands. minkpaw loves her.
drip. lostspark leads her to shadowclan, the chirping of birds and the quiet sound of rain long forgotten sliding off leaves and branches and dripping onto the ground, were the only things keeping her company in the darkness. rocks clatter down the stones as minkpaw finds herself face to face with dawnstar.
drip. drip. drip. rookpaw isnt stupid. not anymore. she sees herself faced with a chance, one she wasnt able to take the last time. one she wouldnt be able to take this time. she wants. she couldve been somebody. she could be somebody. minkpaw wouldve hoped and prayed, rookpaw doesnt hope. rookpaw wont get her hopes up. this is a lie, but one rookpaw is determined to make truth.
hope is what makes us strong, hope is what stabs us in the back.
rook is no fool.

[alec]

[ content warning: self injury, vomit/vomiting, blood, murderous ideation, overall self hate
THIS IS NOT CANON ]

rookfire slammed his head into the nearest tree, spreading dusty tree bark and bits of moss over his head and staggering backwards as the pain pulsed through his head. it briefly radiated over his thoughts, barely, a moment of peace, silence, disrupting the tearing rage clawing its way from his tattered lungs up his throat until it burned hot and acidic at the back of his throat. stomach convulsing and his limbs shaking with the force of his, rookfire hacked up the little prey he had had earlier in the day and only stopped when his throat was spasming and sore, stomach truly turned inside out and little bit of blood slicked somewhere at the back of his throat. his breath came in ragged, hot gasps as he turned away from the vomit, blinking away tears that had sprung to his eyes. sadness turned bottomless rage or simply the natural reaction to the exertion his body was put through involuntarily? he didnt know, couldnt hold onto the thought for long enough as nausea sloshed around his now empty stomach and pale claws dug into the ground. rookfire had never been a crier, especially not out of anger. he had cried in front of mossfreckle twice, struck by fear and with his body acting on his account, something he now greatly regretted, walls that had been ever so carefully been broken down bit by bit back up and pushing closer and closer as if to suffocate him in his own past failings. it was natural. he didnt cry out of anger, he didnt cry.
sharp teeth grinding against one another with a quiet crunch, vibrating through his skull as the brief vomit induced exhaustion faded to give way to more feelings and memories crashing down around him. drowning. that would be the most accurate description. drowning in what he had done and what he hadnt, guilt over his own failings. trusting mossfreckle. a lie. all a bloody lie. he slammed his paw to the ground with enough force to hurt before digging in, ripping grass and dirt out of the earth, roots snapping under the force. the flex of his jaw, lacking something to bite into, tear apart like he had the stars damned riverclan apprentice, only spurred him on. ultimately spinning to face a puddle, the former medic looked at his twisted reflecting, teeth exposed as if smiling and breaths coming in short bursts he lifted a dirtied paw, claw extended out and slid it into his maw. blood dripped into the puddle, tinting his watery twin a pale pink as he drew it up through dark fur, widening the twisted grin he had found so sickening and equally humorous the first time. he stood motionless, lowering his bloodied paw to the ground before giving his mirrored image another smile, wide and bloody, crimson tinting usually pale fangs and coating his tongue with the familiar coppery tang usually reserved from prey and enemies. a giggle escaped the former enforcer, choked up and involuntary, as if it wasnt really him producing the sound. something about this was awfully surreal yet the first thing to pull him out of a fit of rage as destructive as it got. his muscles were still burning with the need to make himself be heard, but he was able to blink away the tears that had been blurring the world around.

-----

the hollow giggle that escaped his throat was without his minds permission once more, a wet gurgling mixing into the high pitched, almost frantic noise as the audible reminder of the crimson coating rookfires tongue and dripping onto the pine covered soil. medicine cat! had he really been as foolish as to believe things would work out! the tom shook his head in quick, jerky motions, splattering more drops of blood on the forest floor.

he had nobody, like the most hilarious plot-twist of his miserable life, everything went full circle.