#arrest tw

[little-peril-stories]

Whumptober 2023, Day 3 & 4: Solitary confinement, shock

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: blood (barely), guilt, arrested, fear, angst (a lot—what else is new?)

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Word count: 600 || Approx reading time: 3 mins

Solitary Confinement

Teaser: There was no running, not for him. Not anymore.

"They'll kill me if I'm lucky / They'll torture me if not"

All the scholar could hear was his own rapid, fraying breath.

The panicked rasping.

The frantic gasp of each intake of air as he tried desperately to regain his senses.

Dead. He’s dead.

They’d thrown him inside, heedless of how his sight failed him and his feet stumbled and scrabbled beneath him. Now he lay motionless, tasting blood, pretending that this was all part of his plan. He didn’t move from where he’d fallen.

He’s dead, and I killed him.

He couldn’t move. He barely wanted to. The deed was done; the choice was made.

I’ll distract him, he’d promised.

He’d known what he was sacrificing when he walked into their midst.

Now. Run. Please.

There was no running, not for him. Not anymore.

The room was quiet, but it was distinctly unlike the soothing peace of the library where he had spent so many hours of his life. This—this was an ominous quiet, heavy with dread, slippery with promise. The promise—and memory—of death.

Leave him in there, they’d said, until the prince arrives.

The thud of a body striking rough stone rang in his ears. It was only once he was already prone—still reeling from the impact—that the scholar realized it had been his own weary, grief-stricken bones and his own torn skin scraping against the floor.

Let the prince decide what to do with the bastard.

The scholar’s wrists stung, unused to anything harsher than the silk of his shirtsleeves. He wore metal bands now, heavy and pinching and dark, suppressing what little magic he possessed—the only weapon, truly, he had to wield. Snuffed out, as much a prisoner as he.

Magic he’d used to kill a man.

Dead. The word repeated in his mind. The commander was dead, and soon, the scholar would be, too.

Quiet.

So quiet.

Too quiet.

He loved such stillness, usually—relished it. Most of the time, it meant solitude. Solace. The tender whispers of turning pages, muffled footsteps, and contented sighs.

Today, it meant something else:

Death.

He hadn’t meant to.

But he had.

I chose this.

He’d chosen her.

Soon the prince would arrive to decide his fate. He would know what his old tutor had done. He would pass judgment and, in all likelihood, sentence him to death.

I didn’t mean to.

The scholar had written the end of his own story, or rather, he had tried. He could never have imagined that this was where his life would lead him—to an empty, airless holding room, mere corridors from the dungeon cells that would no doubt become his tomb. And what for?

I did it for her.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of her hands in his.

Don’t get hurt, she’d said. A promise he’d known—even as he agreed—he could not keep. He wondered what she would say if she could see him now. If she—more full of fight than he had ever been—would rage and rail to see him prostrate and shaking. Or if, instead, she would merely weep.

Get up, she would urge. Please.

The barest sliver of him wished his cruel, craven mind—soaked with pain and fear and shock and terror—would let him be, that his conscience would simply rest. He almost—almost—wished her voice would just stop.

But if it did, he would be left with the emptiness and silence of the room, and in a sea of fear and foreboding, he would drown.

If it did, the scholar knew, he would never again hear her voice, out loud or in his head, so when death came for him, he would be nothing more than a wretched husk of a man, despised and heartbroken and alone.

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#whumptober2023 #no.3 #no.4 #solitary confinement #shock #oc #original content #fic #arrest tw #murder tw #guilt tw #blood tw #arrested #fear #angst #death mention #lps man of letters

[papcrrings]

Closed Starter : Salazar & Helga ( @rcvcrics )

Salazar was dealing with the aftermath of one of his employees messing up a delivery. All he had to do was drop off a package and instead he had gotten arrested and ratted out those he was delivering to. He hadn't known enough to get the guy on top in trouble but someone higher up in their organisation. The older man figured he had done that so he didn't have to rat Salazar out. Unfortunately, he now had the boss of the other crime organisation, his former-business parter now-rival, on the other side of his desk because it was all his fault his employee flipped.

As if to make matters worse, his bouncer who doubled as his bodyguard came in and said someone was asking for him. He didn't say who it was in the room which meant someone from his personal life was there and the man made it clear it was a visitor he did not want to turn away, "Excuse me a moment," he said to the none-too-happy criminal and left the room. He closed the door and his eyes widened, "Helga?" he questioned in surprise and moved quickly take her arm gently and pull her away from the office door so she wouldn't be seen or heard by the men inside, "What are you doing here?" he asked curiously.

#long post tw #arrest tw #crime tw #starter : salazar slytherin #toujours pur : salazar slytherin #interactions : salazar slytherin #interactions : salazar & helga

[strawberry-barista]

⚅— @fangedstories asked: —⚅ ⚅— [Bind] to put handcuffs/shackles on my muse "You knew this was coming the minute you took him in. Looks like he failed you, Sanae Hanekoma." (non-canon bad ending to the Ward Saga) —⚅

Kidnapping Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

Hanekoma didn't struggle as he allowed himself to be bound, eyes hollow as he stared out into a far away nothingness. He had nightmares about this moment all the time. He had thought about it over and over and over again. He knew perfectly how absolutely final this all was. And honestly, he really thought he would be crying right now. Instead, all he could do was stare blankly at the ground while they tied him up.

He really didn't know what had gone wrong, even thinking back on everything he'd done. He had taken very careful steps not to break any rules in his cold rage against Joker's former Higher Plane branch. He'd operated under his regulations, filled out the necessary forms, and he'd been gracious the whole time. And yet somehow as he was finalizing everything he had been hit with this. This information coming out like a tsunami through the hivemind that Sanae Hanekoma had been continually breaking his parole. That he had been committing crime after crime, and somehow everyone suddenly knew what he'd been up to.

He didn't know how they'd gotten the information or from where, but he'd stood in stunned silence as he listened to every transgression he'd ever committed blasted across the hivemind in great detail. It hadn't taken them much longer after that to come and apprehend him, and now he didn't know what to do. A terrible knot twisted in his stomach as he was prepared for incarceration. He knew that he'd never get to see Shibuya again. Or if he did, it would not be as who he was now.

Joshua, Joel, Minamimoto... Api and Ean and Queenie... Hope and Emi and Hazelnut... Kariya, Uzuki, Izumi, and Natsuki... Tsubasa and Uriah and Pinky and Aoi... Yir and Aku and Beat and Raizen... Joker. Every person he had ever met gone from him entirely. Every person he had ever loved, no longer a part of his soul. Stripped bare and broken. Stripped bare and broken. Joshua's worst nightmare....

Hanekoma turned his eyes up to Joker and Raizen, eyes wet but still not a tear to be see, and after swallowing several times he finally spoke just two words: "I'm sorry."

#busy dizzy and lazy ⤙ic⤚⚄ #you still lack in experience ⤙answer⤚⚄ #is this a place to shine? ⤙post neo⤚⚄ #i can't do what you’re expecting of me — fangedstories ⊸ #long tags tw #kidnapping tw #arrest tw #incarceration tw #angst tw #ask to tag #mentioned: kingsmedley #mentioned: mundanemiseries #mentioned: the grim heaper #mentioned: catncore #mentioned: dandybarista #mentioned: the composer #mentioned: hopeful hugz #mentioned: insightful mother #mentioned: lollipopsandgunshots #mentioned: x whiskeylullaby x #mentioned: empyreous #mentioned: mystical strawberry sheep #mentioned: skater brain #//long cast in this one #//but i figured if it was going to be the end of decaf #//even in a non-canon scenario #//he deserved to give out all his honorable mentions #//and that means anyone i could think of off the top of my head #//even if their relationship isn't canon to my portrayal #//or like mains/affiliates

[retaliationrp]

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝟏𝟓𝐓𝐇, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

The bar was not officially open yet but that didn’t stop a few members of the Wild Coyotes to enjoy some down time. A club meeting had been held earlier, lttle on the agenda for that day but many important actions were looming close. Next month would mark 6 months since the Sinful Ones made themselves known, 6 months of bloodshed, something that had been happening for way too long now. The drug bust of March had been a success and the club needed to keep hitting where it hurt. The mood was high, the tide was turning, it finally seemed like things were going in their favor.

No one bothered when the door opened, despite the closed sign, it wasn’t entirely unusual for the regulars to walk in, like Kieran Murphy had done not long ago, joining in for a drink. But Riggs Maddow smile vanished as soon as his eyes landed on those who walked in. ATF agents walked right to the collector, knowing him as the owner. Months of surveillances nd information gatering had lead to this moment. With a court mandate in hand, and brown boxes in hands, they had the power to seixe anything they saw fit for their investigation. Along with that, they had an arrest warrant for Riggs. None of it felt right with those present and Ezrak Aviv Gülen voiced it strongly, earning in a set of handcufed for obstruction. Mia Fleming wasted no time in calling Samuel Jordan Adlawan, giving the lawer the little information she had as it unfolded before her eyes. An agent stepped to her and asked for Mia’s phone to be seized immediately and Keiran stepped in, arguing that the warrant did not pertain to those present. Tensions were high and the officer did not hesitate to arrest him on the same basis as Ezrak. In final, three of them walked out handcauffed and escorted to the sheriff’s station.

A night in jail with long hours in an interogating room, and the promise to be in touch, was what Riggs got. Ezrak and Kieran were realeased early the next morning, no charges being pressed against them. And while nothing incriminating was found at The Dive, it was clear the club was now on the ATF radar. No one outright said it right then, but the information they got seemed to point to a rat, someone among them who had been talking.

All members of the Wild Coyotes were present when this happened. Any civilians or Sinful Ones can have been witnessed outside of the bar if they happened to be around when it happened. There are suspicions that someone with at least a little knowledge of the Wild Coyotes has been talking but a search for the rat has not been officially launched yet. 

#retaliation.plotdrop #arrest tw

[onlylivinboy]

It’s hard to think straight about what he’s feeling. It’s too familiar, cuts too close to everything their family had been through in the past. He’s breathing rapidly, but he sees Josh’s eyes trained on him and the reassuring look he’s being given, the breaths he’s meant to mirror. 

He’s nodding, he nods and sucks in those slow deep breaths as he’s being shown. Like the many times the father had done before, exaggerating his own breathing to give him something to copy, and not to think about. 

He sees the smile on Josh’s face, and tries to stretch his own expression into a shaky semblance of something similar. it’s okay, i know it’s okay, it’ll be okay. 

And then the guardians hands are cuffed behind his back, and he’s escorted out. 

#drabble #fuascailt #arrest tw #police tw

[omarxwatson]

OMAR WATSON ; THE INTRODUCTION

NAME: Omar Michael Watson

NICKNAME(S): Big-O

AGE: Thirty-two

RESIDENTIAL AREA: Downtown, two bedroom apartment, first floor

OCCUPATION: Owner at Touch of Ink and Tattoo Artist

LENGTH OF TIME IN PROVIDENCE PEAK: Thirty-two years

basics.

BIRTHDAY: March 08, 1991

PLACE OF BIRTH: Providence Peak, Colorado

GENDER IDENTIFICATION: Cis Male (he/him)

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

POSITIVE TRAITS: Observant, Humble, Meticulous, Busy

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Candid, Aloof, Cynical, Private, Impulsive 

family.

MOTHER: Hoyle Watson  (incarcerated)

FATHER: Daphne Watson (deceased)

SIBLINGS: tbd watson (younger sibling), tbd watson (youngest sibling)

CHILDREN: None

PETS: None

biography notes. 

serial killer tw, death tw, arrest tw, police tw, suicide tw

born and raised in providence peak, colorado to hoyle and daphne watson. he is the eldest of three children, having two younger siblings that he was incredibly close with growing up.

he had a very adventurous family growing up. they were always active, going into the colorado mountains, kayaking in the rivers, snowboarding, sledding, mountain biking. there were few instances in which omar wasn't outdoors as a kid.

he was always the protective big brother of his younger siblings. he looked out for them as much as he could. despite not being their parents, omar often felt like was the first one that they came to when something was wrong. both of his parents did work a lot, but they were by no means neglectful of their children.

school was not omar's favorite place to be at the end of the day. he had a hard time sitting still and always was itching to get out of class at the end of the day. he struggled to get the best grades, but tended to walk into the next grade with the passing grades needed to move on.

he had friends and was rather social. he wasn't the loudest, always being more on the quiet side and preferring to listen, but he was rarely seen alone and more with a close knit group of people.

when omar was thirteen years old his life changed in a way that he never thought imaginable. his parent's didn't get a divorce, he didn't get a new sibling. what happened in his life was unimaginable.

there was an evening when omar was taking his younger siblings up to bed when his house erupted in a fit of chaos when police officers made their way into the watson home and arrested his father. no one told omar and his siblings what was happening until the next morning.

his father had been arrested for a string of murders in the area and the evidence against him was damning. omar's life felt like a blur in the days to come after his father's arrest. the news stations were quick to pick up, standing outside the watson home on a daily basis as the case continued to come to light to the general public.

omar went from having a surplus of people that he called his friends, to feeling completely alienated from the people he had known for nearly thirteen years in some instances.

he became a recluse, knowing that people looked at him and saw his father. they looked at him and were curious if he might end up like his father or if omar had any knowing if at all. it was around the time that his life was falling apart that he fell into art.

in addition to learning to draw, losing himself in sketches, omar started to rebel in other ways, landing himself in detention on more than one occasion and ultimately, this is where he met lainey, forming a friendship.

his mother rarely left the house after what happened, leaving omar and his younger siblings to fend for themselves. she fell into a deep and dark pit of despair, unable to look her children in the eye, rarely getting out of bed most days.

despite his rebelling, when things started to go downhill with the finances, omar had to get a job. he worked odd hours of the evening and all day during the weekends. he held several jobs to make up as much money as he could before resorting to selling things.

by the time omar was eighteen, he barely managed to graduate high school, getting by with minimal effort because working had taken the most of his time. at this time, his mother took her own life, five years of depression taking a toll on her.

at this time, omar was old enough to take care of his siblings legally and did so. they lost the house, but omar moved them into an apartment, working day in and day out. he had taken up work at the local grocery store, working as many hours as he could and when he did have free time, omar was an apprentice at a touch of ink.

omar still had a passion for artwork that wouldn't go away. he used it to escape any overwhelming feelings that he was having. dealing with emotions was something omar felt like he didn't have time for. and college was absolutely out of the question for him, not having the funds or want to leave his younger siblings. he wanted them to have the best life, his was already over in his eyes.

in addition to his artistry, omar has another hidden talent and that is baking. he does not share this talent with many, mostly his siblings but the occasional close friend would know of his baking skills. it's another artistic outlet for him.

when he was twenty-four years old, his friendship with parker took a change. he had met her prior to his life being turned upside down and he felt like she was the one person that had never judged him. though their age difference had always prevented anything more, despite a crush omar had developed on her. not that he'd willingly admit it to anyone.

she was twenty-eight the first time they hooked up and said they shouldn't do it again, but then it kept happening. and happening. until it didn't when parker went to new york, leaving omar feeling alone once more.

at the age of twenty-six, omar was handed down a touch of ink. the owner was someone that he felt close to, was a father figure to him more than anyone else in his life. omar's skills had appropriately grown and his mentor thought it were appropriate to hand it down to omar when he passed away. it had broken his heart to lose someone like cody in his life, the man he practically owed everything to.

omar took a while to adjust to owning a business and takning on new clients as well as new artists. he was cautious about those that he hired, having trouble trusting new people in his life.

it wasn't until he met amara obi when he was thirty-four years old that omar finally let someone inside his life again. relationships did not come easily for him, preferring the lack of depth of one night stands.

amara came into his life and omar felt like he was finally seeing the brighter side of life for the first time since he was a young teenager. he fell quickly for her, proposing to her after a year of dating. he was ready to start a life with her, looking to turn around what life he had left.

it wasn't until news came to light with amara, making it seem like she had somehow been involved with his father that omar acted impulsively, in a negative manner. he quickly ended the engagement between the two, feeling as if she had completely betrayed his trust. he didn't give her the time of day to explain and it wasn't something she was ready to do either.

six months have passed since the engagement was broken off by omar and he has been working on getting the money back from several deposits that they had placed at various vendors. it has been in recent weeks that omar has learned the truth of amara's history.

he deeply regrets his decision to leave her but doesn't know if there is a way to turn it around. omar fears he will fall into old habits with parker if he isn't careful, knowing that it isn't the best decision but that's exactly why he wants to do it.

once more his life has been turned upside down, but this time it was omar doing so and not anyone else. he's still learning how to take responsibility for his own actions.

wanted connections.

younger sibling (brother or sister)

youngest sibling (brother or sister)

childhood best friends

friends that stopped being friends with him when his father was arrested

one night stands

high school girlfriend

tattoo clients

tattoo artist apprentice

future romantic connection

#omar watson || introduction #serial killer tw #murder tw #death tw #arrest tw #police tw #suicide tw

[gay-impressionist]

france is burning.

667 people were arrested last night. they are curfews in place. public transport is partially closed at night.

nahel, a 17-year-old, was shot tuesday by the police during a traffic stop. he wasn't violent or armed, he wasn't a threat. but he broke the law and tried to drive away, so the cops killed him.

and now france is rioting.

there is a video so the government isn't trying to deny the facts for once. but the minister of the interior (in charge of the police) still insist that the police shot less people since the 2017 law on public safety.

but an analysis of police statistics by Le Monde, the most read newspaper in france, says otherwise. when the police shot on average 250 people each year in the five years prior to 2017, that number became 297 after 2017. for shots fired specifically on moving vehicles, the average used to be 119 and it's now 150. before 2017, there was an average of 0.06 deaths per shot. now it's 0.32.

more than ever, the police shoots to kill.

so france is burning.

#i wanted to write something small because there's nothing on tumblr #but it became longer and longer #i didn't add pictures bc it always seems voyeuristic to me. this isn't click bait. i'm not here to exploit the pain and the anger in any way #but a kid died and hundreds people are being arrested and tumblr doesn't say a word #upthebaguette #whatthefrance #acab #tw death #tw police brutality #france things

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was exploring the new dorms my school made and talking to my friend about who’s all rooming together. After a little while he turns to me and says; “Did you hear that Mr. C is getting arrested?”

“Oh my God, no way! What for?”

“Making meth. Come on I’ll show you-“

He takes me down the hall to one of the dorms where the door was conveniently open so I could see in, where my teacher Mr. C was sat in front of a fish tank that was pouring out a fine white powder. We watch on as a whole squad of police run down the hall, into the dorm room, grab Mr. C, and drag him away.

#dream #school #dorm #friend #arrest #drugs tw #police

[bearandbirdfan]

SuleMio Angst Edit

Context: Suletta's heart, under the effects of the Data Storms, starts to give out and Miorine does everything she can to keep Suletta's heart beating and alive.

#mobile suit gundam #mobile suit gundam the witch from mercury #gundamedit #gundam #gundam witch from mercury #g witch #sulemio #suletta x miorine #suletta mercury #miorine rembran #tw: cpr #tw: heart attack #tw: heart failure #tw: cardiac arrest

[captain-444]

Stolen joke lol idk who wrote it but you’re a funny one. Quote you every week Amen

#3d bllog #3dtumblr #3dblrr #ed not ed sheeran #3ating d1sorder #four arrested and €2m of cocaine seized by garda after planned search of two vehicles #ed bullshit #ed active account #ed disorder #ed no sheeran #ed not sheeren #tw ed but not sheeran #edn0s #bingedisorder

[little-peril-stories]

Whumptober 2023, Day 8: "I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier."

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: angst, death, murder, arrest, vicious rumours/false accusations

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 1250 || Approx reading time: 5 mins

"I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier."

Teaser: And to be safe, she needed to be free—far from the man who’d taken her away because he believed he could, that his royal blood made him all-powerful, that he deserved to have his fists curled tightly around anything or anyone he pleased. He’ll never let go, she’d said. He’ll never give up.

"I'll never be a hero who all the citizens adore / But if I hide to save my life, what has my life been for?"

The scholar watched her go.

He watched her vanish, watched her wide eyes shimmer with tears as she made her escape.

Met her gaze when, for the most agonizingly beautiful instant, she looked back.

And then was gone.

“I’ll distract him,” he promised. Breath stuttering in his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and wondered if she could feel how his heart thundered against her shivering form.

“Come with me,” she whispered. “Please. But we have to go. Now.”

We have to go. Away from here, away from the castle, away from the place that had turned her visit from a holiday into hell.

He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to say yes, to let her cling to him—and to let himself cling back—for all of eternity, to let centuries pass them by in perfect harmony and happiness. He wanted to. He wanted her.

“I don’t want to go without you,” she said, squeezing more tightly.

He needed her.

He needed her safe.

And to be safe, she needed to be free—far from the man who’d taken her away because he believed he could, that his royal blood made him all-powerful, that he deserved to have his fists curled tightly around anything or anyone he pleased. He’ll never let go, she’d said. He’ll never give up.

That she had escaped his grasp on her own was a miracle.

If he finds me again, he’ll never let me leave.

So the scholar pulled away, clasping her hands as their bodies peeled apart, loath to put any cruel, miserable distance between them, yet knowing he had no choice. He made his promise again. “I’ll distract him.”

Of course, she knew; she must have; she knew him inside and out; she knew his very soul. He was no soldier, no fighter. “What—what are you going to do?” Her fingers tightened, still tangled in his. “They think you’re the one who—”

“I know.”

“They think you killed me.”

“I know.”

She shook her head, those fragile bird’s-wing bones trembling against his. “Please don’t—You can’t—”

“I’ll just distract him long enough for you to run,” he said. Tugged his hand free. Brushed a lock of hair from her dirt-streaked cheek, relishing the silken smoothness of her skin for what was sure to be the very last time. “Then I’ll—I’ll run. I’ll find you.”

Empty words, a hollow promise, a vow of nothing.

“But they think you did it,” she said again, echoing the rumours, the warnings that had been circling him for days, the words that would haunt his memory for the rest of his life. “They’ll arrest you. They’ll kill—”

“They won’t.” He did not know if that was true. “I can’t let him hurt you again. I won’t.” Overcome with too many thoughts, too many fears, too many jabs of paralyzing terror that would conquer him if he allowed it, he drew her close again. One final embrace.

Against him, she shuddered.

“I will find you,” he whispered, despising himself for the lie. He wrapped his coat around her to hide her stained and ripped dress, almost unrecognizable from its former loveliness. Why hadn’t he thought to give it before? “Now. Run. Please.”

“Don’t get hurt,” she said. There were tears on her cheeks. Why? He wished she wouldn’t weep for him. He was a liar and a coward, a fool who’d spent an entire lifetime quailing at conflict and lying to himself. To the end, he knew, those things were what he would remain, even as he did this, this preposterous thing, this stupid but courageous but illogical but selfless thing.

Nothing but a coward.

I love you, he was supposed to say, sealed with a kiss that contained everything that swelled inside him but which he could not put into words. Instead, he said, “Run.”

The scholar watched her go.

***

He was no fighter, but he was a magicwielder, and he was in love with a girl who everyone else believed was dead—who, they believed, he had murdered in cold blood.

He could not protect his reputation, but he could protect her.

He saw the looks, the gazes that turned from confusion to suspicion to astonishment. As recognition flashed across their faces.

I’ll distract him.

But the soldier—who was supposed to see him and, bound by duty, arrest him for his supposed crimes—kept walking, even as those he commanded realized that a wanted man was in their midst.

The commander would find her. He was looking for her, and she could not outrun him. He would find her and bring her back to the prince, and they would lock her away, shut her up in the dark. A girl of leaves and sea air and sunlight, and the prince and his commander would keep her until she wilted and died.

He would use her, she’d choked against his shoulder. She had something they wanted, something she’d kept hidden from everyone, something they’d discovered and were unwilling to relinquish.

No. The scholar wouldn’t allow it. If she wanted to hide, she must have had her reasons.

If he let the prince take her away and hurt her some more…

He wouldn’t forgive himself.

Never.

He raised his hands, magic crackling at his fingertips, and he froze the commander in his tracks. Although he saw the man begin to shake and his eyes to bulge in confusion, other images overtook his senses: her gleaming tears, her torn dress, her bruised wrists.

Her teasing, pealing laugh, the ethereal whisper of her hair against his fingers, the musical sweep of her bare feet through fragrant, luscious grass.

He unleashed his magic and watched the soldier stiffen, as if his bones would crack and shatter. He halted. He fell.

“Commander!”

Shouts from far away.

“Commander?”

And then—

“It’s—it’s him! There!”

He was discovered now for the act he was committing, but the scholar knew he could not run. He was weak. A coward. A liar.

Words flowed over him, words he knew he should heed, but he had to stop the commander from getting up again, had to keep the attention on him, had to make sure she got away.

“Commander!”

“Don’t move!”

“He’s magicwielding!”

“Someone stop him!”

“Sir!”

“Stand down!”

“Commander!”

“He’s not breathing!”

“Get him!”

“He’s dead!”

The scholar released his hold, sudden dread coursing through his blood.

Dead?

No.

No.

He hadn’t wanted to—

I’ll distract him. Run. Please.

A diversion, an opportunity.

That was all he—

“I said, he’s dead!”

How?

The scholar stared down at his hands, hands that had never before wielded power strong enough to do what he had just done.

A crowd pressed in around him—too many, too many. Someone knocked him to the ground, and as his glasses went flying and the world turned to a soft watercolour blur, he was awash in shattering pain and biting terror.

“You killed him!” someone roared. “You killed the commander!”

“N—no.” It couldn’t be true. But they’d said. He hadn’t. But they’d screamed it out. He’s dead, he’s dead. But he was a coward, and he was weak. You killed him. But he couldn’t have. “I didn’t—”

“He’s dead, you murdering bastard!”

I wasn’t trying to—

Noise rose around him, furious and panicked, coalescing into one thick wall of sound. Words and words and words and screams and words and bellows, so many voices, too many, too much. Nonsensical. Foreign. Commander. Magic. Him. The girl. Dead. Dead.

Under arrest.

Murderer.

Dead.

Doomed.

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#whumptober2023 #no.8 #lyric #“I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier.” #outnumbered #oc #original content #fic #angst #death tw #murder tw #arrest tw #vicious rumours #false accusations #lps man of letters

[loonarmuunar]

Took a lot of inspiration from @junebugdunes incredible comic of Ramsey and Zora, please look at her artwork it’s absolutely lovely <3

Textless versions + other stuff below

There were supposed to be 2 more pages but uhh. I’m tired. Prolly gonna draw those later, as a part 2 or somethin.

This was SUPPOSED to be some concept art but. It escalated.

Wanted to make the characters look as Zora perceives them or remembers them and stuff. The Banzais are big and shadowy cause that’s how she saw them as a kid.

Anyways yeah The Woods reminds me of Zora and I wanted to try to incorporate that almost chaotic feeling that I get from it. It’s like audial eyestrain to me I love it.

#epithet erased #my art #zora salazar #ramsey murdoch #banzai blasters #epithet erased zora salazar #ee zora #fanart #comic #eyestrain #tw eyestrain #tw blood #epithet erased ramsey #dead bitch #he was too silly commited too many crimes #arrested on charges of sillyness #epithet erased fanart #zora salazar fanart #great at cowboy #shout out to Zora’s parents who I’ve claimed for myself #my characters now… #her parents are sillouettes def inspired by the great at cowboy artstyle #but also cuz she was probably too young at the tine #and doesn’t remember what they look like #idk how to spell sillouhette #anyways Zora is a piece of shit but also zam. wowzers girlie ur pretty fucked up lmao. #it’s fun to draw her in Situations. u can make her sad u can make her funny u can make her angry. those are the only 3 possible situations #I’m so fucking tired idk what I’m doing. i’ve been walking around all day. might’ve also touched a conesnaill shell. idk we’ll see if I die #does anyone actually read these #if ur still reading this I’m kissing you on the mouth and we will have a summer wedding

[strawberry-barista]

⚅— @lunarshined asked: —⚅ ⚅— o Have you ever got in trouble with the law? What for? for decaf~ —⚅

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

"I was homeless, boss. The law doesn't really appreciate folks like that all that much. Buuut, that being said, I did get arrested once for a petty theft. It was on purpose. I was sick'a not having a place to stay, and so I figured I'd spend a night in jail instead. And that was a mistake. I suffered a lot for that decision. Jail sucked. I never pulled that shit again."

A pause. And then.

"Oh yeah, and I also got in trouble with the Higher Plane. Yeah. Taboo refinery is very fucking illegal and so is interfering with a Game. I got my ass put in angel jail for three years. But... I can't said I'd never pull that shit again. I might if it were important."

#busy dizzy and lazy ⤙ic⤚⚄ #you still lack in experience ⤙answer⤚⚄ #few lines of the sentence lie ⤙hc⤚⚄ #lunarshined #arrest tw #homelessness tw #ask to tag

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 16

Flatline

Roswell, New Mexico s02e05: “I'm not gonna let you go alone, okay?”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

#whumptober2023 #no.16 #flatline #roswell new mexico #gifs #flashing tw #whumpedit #whump #sick #heart condition #pale #cardiac arrest #collapse #support #face touching #passing out #unconscious #cradled #tears #my gifs #max evans #isobel evans #nathan parsons #lily cowles #yeah… i miss this show :(

[whumpy-daydreams]

CPR in hospitals

I did a post on doing cpr as a 'civilian' (i.e. in public with no equipment). But most people who follow me are writers! So here's how it goes down in hospital.

It varies on where someone is in hospital having a cardiac arrest, so this is just for if a patient is in a hospital bed with monitoring on.

The first sign is going to the monitor going crazy and the patient unconscious.

Step 1 - pull the emergency button and start chest compressions (they are still the most important thing!)

Step 2 - someone else will give rescue 'breaths' using an oxygen mask and bag (technically called a bag valve mask or BVM). Two breaths after every 30 compressions

Step 3 - someone else is cutting clothes off and putting defibrillator pads on. An anaesthetist may also intubate the patient and put them on a ventilator (this means you can do compressions continuously)

Step 4 - the defibrillator will scan the heart rhythm. If it's shockable (ventricular tachycardia or fibrillation) then everyone steps away while it shocks. As soon as it's safe, CPR continues (most defibrillators determine the rhythm and calculate voltage automatically)

Step 5 - if it's a non-shockable rhythm, give IV adrenaline ASAP

Step 6 - if it's a shockable rhythm, wait 2 minutes after first shock, check and shock again. Repeat a third time.

Step 7 - if the patient is still in cardiac arrest after 3 shocks, give IV adrenaline and amiodarone

Step 8 - continue CPR and give adrenaline every 5 minutes.

The person giving compressions should switch every 60 compressions (two cycles of 30) - the next person is counted in so there's no time without compressions

There are 10 main causes of cardiac arrest - while all of this is happening a team of doctors will be trying to work out the cause so they can treat it. I won't go into the causes because it's boring and technical.

CPR, defibrillation, and drugs will continue until the cardiac arrest stops or the patient is declared deceased.

If someone is in hospital because of hypothermia, remember! They're not dead until they're warm! (there have been cases of hypothermia patients being successfully resuscitated after over 5 hours of CPR!)

#cpr #cardiac arrest #tw medical #writing advice #I got to do this in a simulation with a defib and it was so cool

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Full article. Feb 20 2024 - link

#Harry’s stalker #Harry’s stalkers #Myra Carvalho #I fucking hope she rots #my blood is boiling #in the same vein #that other creep woman from the us who went to his house to also HAND DELIVER a card #YOURE A FUCKING CREEP TOO #the fact she’s doubling down on TikTok and posting increasingly more disgusting videos about Harry #fucking stalkers #hope his security gets your ass arrested next time u show up to stalk and harass him #disgusting #tw stalking #stalking