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teyamsilly · 4 months

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big baby and bigger baby

pairing neteyam x mom! oc, lo'ak x mom! oc, slight neytiri x mom! oc tags & warning i'm so down bad for neytiri, slight romance with wifey, lo'ak and neteyam are def mamas boys, mentions of blood and violence summary preparing for another raid, jake finally let his sons take part in it. veronica was proud but her concerns never left her. word count 2.6k index skxawng [idiot], ma'itan [my son], prrnen [baby]

teyamsilly speaking ✩ idk if i'll ever be satisfied with how my stories are cause i keep coming back to it and it feels like there is something lacking :') hope you enjoy it !

"We hit them here. Assuming they will be waiting for us to hit them earlier in the transport because of our surprise attack last time, let's wait a bit more until they cross this-" Veronica circled an area on the map with red paint using her finger, "to attack them. Like we discussed before, Tarsem will place the bombs by the tracks and activate them. The track gets destroyed and the train breaks. Na'vi on ground will collect all the goods in the train. Everything that is of use to us. Na'vi on sky will handle the helicopters."

She observed all the warriors. "Am I clear?"

They all answered with a firm yes, a nod of respect sent her way. Veronica looked at Jake and nodded. The simple gesture from her told him that the brief was done.

"Warriors, get ready!" announced Jake. The tent was instantly filled war cries, filling each na'vi inside with determination. The RDA destroyed their home once, they wont allow it to happen again. One by one, they left.

The Olo'eyktan watched as each of them exited the tent until his gaze stopped on two distinctive figures. He sighed, "Neteyam and Lo'ak, stay for a moment."

Veronica and Neytiri shared a knowing look. Their two sons weren't meant to be part of the raid because it was too dangerous. The first raid took five of their warriors lives and many injured, and fortunately Neteyam and Lo'ak weren't too stubborn about joining. This time they begged days on end about being a part of it.

Every time, Jake replied no without hesitation. He might claim they weren't prepared or that it was too perilous, but his two wives understood deep down that it was just because he didn't want the sight of their blood out there. Heck, he was already worried about Veronica and Neytiri being part of the raid. Thinking about his sons in the field will give him a headache.

The brothers glanced at each other before standing in front of him. Jake eyed them intensely as he spoke. "You're spotters, you got it? Spot bogeys and alert us if there are any," he reminded.

They nodded. "Yes, sir."

Their response didn't ease him, however. Jake knew it was an automatic response just for them to be granted permission. He stared at his younger son a bit longer before he nudged his head to the door. The boys walked away from their position and exited the tent. Their absence filled the place with silence as the adults just stood there and watched where they left.

Veronica lay her hand on his shoulder, and squeezed them gently. She smiled, "They will be fine."

"Yeah, I hope so," he mumbled, his head down.

"I am still against it," said Neytiri.

Veronica snapped her gaze towards her with furrowed brows. If there was one thing she knew about Neteyam and Lo'ak, it was that they would start to defy them little by little if they shielded them for too long.

"But," Neytiri continued, "our sons are strong. They know what to do."

Jake pursed his lips, his only response being a nod. The boys were too young for this in his eyes. Just because he wasn't human anymore, it didn't mean that he has forgotten his culture and beliefs. Neteyam's age may be considered the age of maturity, but to Jake he is still a kid.

Veronica tucked her knife in her sheath that was tied around her lower back above her tail. It was hard to stay positive in this situation because it seemed like Jake's anxiety passed to her. He isn't wrong to feel that way, no. She tried to overlook negative thoughts about them being there because the two were looking forward to this. They were driven to protect their home, and she doesn't blame them for that.

All the warriors crowded around the egde of High Camp with their ikrans. Vera, her ikran, stood out to her the most just because her colours are her favourite. She was painted with a mix of white, light blue, and green— colours that reminded her of the ocean.

"Can't believe we're spotters," Lo'ak grumbled. He shook the locks of the saddle on his ikran, making sure that it is fastened.

Neteyam sighed as he shook his head. "Be grateful. This is better than nothing."

The younger brother rolled his eyes. "Bet he only said yes cause Mama said so."

Lo'ak was sure that his life would have been more difficult if his mother wasn't there. She was the only person who understood him, who wouldn't yell at him for his mistakes and instead talk to him in a manner that he would understand what he did was wrong. His father's scoldings does give him a wake up call, but not enough to make him stop.

"And what about me?" Veronica arched an eyebrow as she approached them.

Neteyam smirked when he heard his brother curse under his breath as he was caught in the act.

"Nothing, mama."

"This skxawng said father only said yes because you said so, mom," said Neteyam. Lo'ak sent him a glare but he could care less. His baby brother was harmless as long as their mom was there.

Since the children have two mothers, they called them with different names to not confuse the women.There were too many instances when they were babies crying out for their mothers, but the mothers would always attend to them simultaneously. So, Neytiri was mother, while Veronica was mom. Although, Lo'ak called Veronica mama since he was little and he didn't grow away from that habit.

"Just so you know, I don't feel as confident anymore for letting the two of you out there. There are still ways you could help the clan and I would gladly find them," she said. Her words alerted the two teenagers immediately. Veronica smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "However, I trust you not to do anything stupid. Am I right to do so?"

Lo'ak nodded, his boyish grin stretched on his lips. "Mama, please, as if I would do something stupid at a time like this."

"You don't really have a good record for showing obedience in the worst times, ma'itan."

Neteyam chuckled, "Don't worry, mom. I will make sure he will stay put."

Somehow, I doubt that, she thought. The eldest son always managed to be tangled in his mess even if he doesn't want to, but she felt reassured that Lo'ak wasn't alone.

Looking at them stood at each others side made Veronica feel nostalgic. The image of them as children flashed through her head. They were yelling for her and running towards her with cheeky smiles, jumping into her arms. It seemed like time flew too fast. Now, they had matured and had a sense of responsibility.

"When did you grow so big?" Veronica sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. She drew Lo'ak into her embrace.

"Mom, stop," Lo'ak whined. His eyes looked around frantically with his cheeks flushed. He did not want to be treated like a prrnen in front of so many people.

"Hm, why?" she teased. "Do you have a girl I don't know about?"

"No, but-"

"I thought so." Veronica tightened her arms around her son, planting a kiss on his temple with a loud sound effect just to embarrass him more. She laughed as she heard him groan against her. "My baby is so big now!"

"Mom!" he complained. Veronica laughed as she took a step away from her son, seeing his cheeks flushed from embarrassment entertained her.

She turned to Neteyam. "Ah, my bigger baby." Her arms were stretched away from her sides, an invitation. Unlike Lo'ak, Neteyam didn't shy away from her affection.

He felt so nervous about the raid that his hands started to sweat, but his nerves weren't enough to scare him away. He wondered how Lo'ak looked so calm, excited even. They were actually going to witness up close the damages the RDA could bring. But being wrapped around his mom's warmth relaxed him, even if it was just for a little while.

"Mom, are you in sky team?" he asked.

Veronica shook her head. "No, I am part of the ground team. Your mother is the one in sky team."

Neteyam felt a gentle kiss against his temple. She stepped back, her hands squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Everything will be fine, Teyam."

He thought hearing those words again would make him feel better, but it didn't.

Veronica wondered if her mother ever felt this way: her heart racing from anxiety, a knot in her stomach, and the palms of her hands sweaty just for being worried for her own daughters' safety. Although the chances are highley unlikely, it didn't hurt to wonder. She would consider her mother lucky if she had never felt that way because then she had nothing to fear.

The moment she didn't see her two sons in the sky like they were supposed to, panic started to kick in. She spotted their ikrans staying on the ground, their riders nowhere to be seen. Just as she was about to alarm Jake, gun ships came and fired at them.

Veronica hurried to take cover, not leaving her any time to search for her sons. She prayed that they were safe, and that everyone managed to escape the shots. She only felt her worries fade away when she saw Lo'ak flew away on his ikran, but it soon came back when Neteyam was being carried by Jake. He had scratches on his back, blood seeping out from it. Did every mother experience this?

They were currently at High Camp. She carressed Vera's head before approaching the boys.

"Mom! Mama!" Tuk ran towards the two women and tried to hug them both with her small arms. The youngest Sully would often call either of the mothers with different names, not that they mind. Like Lo'ak, Tuk didn't stray away from her habit in calling Veronica mama, but she does call Neytiri this sometimes.

Veronica smiled and pinched her cheek gently. She patted the small girl's back when she moved away, and continued to walk towards the boys. Neteyam stood in front of his father, his head hung low as he held his injured arm. Lo'ak stood still by his ikran, nervous for what's to come. How ironic.

"You're supposed to be spotters. You spot bogeys, and you call 'em in," Jake scolded furiously, his eyes dancing between them. "From a distance!" he emphasised. "Does any of this sound familiar? Get here!"

Lo'ak obeyed and stood beside his brother, ashamed. Veronica observed her youngest sons' back before she went to Neteyam who was injured. She clicked her tongue gently as she surveyed his injuries. There were numerous scratches on his back, but some cut deeper than the others. Kiri rushed to her side once she saw the condition her brother was in.

"Jesus. I let you two geniuses fly a mission, and you disobey direct orders." Jake sighed, "Kiri, can you go help your grandmother with the wounded? Please?"

"My brother is wounded," she pointed out.

"Baby girl, please. Tuk, go with her. Go."

Kiri sighed as she shook her head, walking away with Tuk.

"Dad– sir. I take full responsibility," said Neteyam, his head hung low still.

"Yeah, you do. That's right. 'Cause you're the older brother, you gotta act like it."

Neytiri gave her husband a pointed look. "MaJake. Your son is actually bleeding."

Neteyam shook his head. "Mother, it's fine. I-"

"No, it's not," Veronica cut him off. She looked at Jake with an arched eyebrow.

His gaze shifted between Neteyam's face and his injured body. For a moment, his anger diminished. "Just go and get patched up. Go on, dismissed."

"Come," she whispered for the young boy to hear. Her hand held his bicep as they walked past Jake. She shot Jake a knowing look before walking further, passing by warriors who were getting situated.

They walked in silence, and Neteyam was not sure if it was comfortable or not. He hadn't experienced getting a scolding from his mom, it would either be from his mother or father. Usually Jake on rare occurrences.

Neteyam pursed his lips. "Mom," he called weakly.

"How many times did you save your brothers back?" she asked softly.

He stayed silent.

"I know you are doing your job as the older brother, and you are doing it really well. But, a time will come when Lo'ak will have to grow too. He has to learn how to own up to his mistakes." Veronica held his shoulders, stopping him from entering the Tsahik's hut. She moved in front of him, cupping his cheek gently and made him look at her. "You do not have to try so hard. You are just a kid."

Neteyam's eyes widened, his eyes turning glossy. He wasn't so sure why his chest started to hurt. Maybe it was because his hard work was being acknowledged, or maybe it was because someone saw that he was trying. Couldn't his dad see that too?

As Veronica patted his cheek gently, she smiled, "Go on. I'll be right with you."

The boy only nodded, he feared that if he tried to speak, his voice would crack and tears would start spilling from his eyes. Her eyes searched for Lo'ak through the crowd and spotted him with the ikrans, removing the saddles. The upset look on his face made her sigh.

Mo'at crouched behind Neteyam's back as she applied medicine on his injuries. He would either yelp or hiss at the contact of his wounds. Spider was in the hut too, he would make jokes here and then about how Neteyam was acting like a baby out of it just to make him feel better. Veronica laughed quietly at his words. She was relieved that the tension wasn't there anymore, she didn't know if she could bare it.

Her eyes trailed from Neteyam's back then outside the hut, sensing a presence. She locked gazes with Neytiri before it shifted to Jake's back, busying himself with his gun. Veronica excused herself and told Kiri to take over, approaching Neytiri. The hair at the end of her tail brushed against her wife's thigh as she gave her a peck on the lips.

Neytiri's hand caressed her arm, but her eyes stayed on the boys. Neteyam's grunts of pain could still be heard from where they're standing. He never had injuries like this, never this worse. Her tail swished behind her like something was on her mind.

Jake glanced behind him. He sighed, "What?"

"Neteyam and Lo'ak try to live up to you. It is very hard on them," said Neytiri. She faced her husband expectantly.

"I know." He refused to meet their eyes and focused on the weapon in his hand.

Neytiri kneeled beside him. "You are very hard on them."

Veronica sat beside the other side of Jake to hear their conversation better. Their voices were low to ensure that none of the children heard it.

"I'm their father. It's my job," he pressed.

"This is not a squad. It is a family." Her voice remained soft, and it was enough to break his walls down.

Jake placed his gun on the ground, clenching his fist on his knees. "I thought we'd lost them," he whispered. Tears glossed into his eyes as he looked at the two women, the only people who he could feel vulnerable around with.

It was difficult to stay away from long-term habits. Being a marine meant seeing a lot of difficult situations, he was forced to keep it together and be tough. Seeing his sons affected by the explosion made him lose all of his composure and he didn't know how to deal with it. He was still learning, but everytime he felt like he was getting better, his progress ruins.

Neytiri's expression softened, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she held his hand. Veronica placed her hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently. No word was said to one another except giving each other comfort. Each parents feared the same thing: losing their child. Parenthood was difficult, but if the three of them were in it together, Jake felt like he will be fine.

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callsign-bunnie · 1 year

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I'm begging you, please do a Part 3 to the slasher Ghost AU

Trying to figure out what I'm gonna call this part on the AO3. Anyway, this is part of my Slasher Ghost anthology. The new tag is "bunnie's slasherverse" if you want the other parts!

Soap had woken up in a house. He actually recognized it fairly quickly as Alejandro's family house. It was on a large property so... escaping would be a pain in the ass.

Rodolfo had woken up shortly after him, his smaller body having gotten the same dose as Soap so it took a bit longer to wear off on him. The first thing Soap had done was trying to assess how they could potentially get out of there.

Rodolfo? The first thing he'd done was track Alejandro down and start to curse at him in Spanish. Soap thought he was fucking crazy, but he was keeping his mouth shut.

"You are going to take us back, and you are going to fuck off, pendejo!" Rodolfo stomped his foot, glaring at Alejandro. Alejandro looked at him like he was lovestruck.

"Mi sol, I'm not going to do that." Alejandro shook his head. "You're going to leave me!"

"Yes! Because you are a murderer!" Rodolfo looked indignant. He jerked back when Alejandro went to touch him. "No! You don't get to touch, anymore!"

Alejandro whined and Soap felt like he was going crazy. They'd just watched them slaughter an entire house of people and Rodolfo was giving Alejandro the "no touch" treatment.

Soap flinched when he felt a hand touch his arm and jerked away from Ghost, who frowned a little. "Are you hungry?" Ghost asked.

Soap shook his head. "Not for anything you two have." He mumbled, backing up from Ghost. He still gave him intense anxiety. Well, still made sense. Whatever. Ghost scared the shit out of him.

Ghost frowned. "You need to eat, Johnny."

"Soap." Soap corrected. "Don't call me that."

Ghost looked hurt but he nodded. "Alright, Soap." He turned and left the room. Soap watched him, shaking his head, and then turned back to Alejandro and Rodolfo.

Rodolfo had his back to Alejandro, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. He kept shaking his head in response to Alejandro's pleading in Spanish. Every time Alejandro would go to touch Rodolfo, he'd move out of the way and yell at him.

Soap ran a hand over his face. He couldn't believe this. Whatever they'd used to drug them was still wearing off, so he was kind of drowsy. He wanted to sleep. He jumped when Ghost suddenly spoke. "We have beds for you."

Soap looked at him, confused when he'd came back. "No thanks."

"You're about to pass out. Sleep."

"No thank you." Soap shook his head, crossing his arms. "I don't really want to find out what you plan to do to me in my sleep." He huffed.

Ghost frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're a murderer." Soap looked at him, incredulous. "You... you murdered..." Soap counted for a minute. "At least 50 people."

Ghost looked almost proud of himself before wincing. "I adore you, Johnny. I won't hurt you."

Soap looked away, flushing. No, no. Ghost was a murderer. Do not get flustered over the literal murderer saying he adores you. "How would I know that?"

Ghost frowned and tried to think. "I don't know yet. But, I'll prove it to you."

Soap laughed. "You can prove it by taking me home."

"No can do." Ghost shook his head. "But, I'll prove it in another way. I'll make you love me."

"I'll never love you." Soap glared at him.

Ghost only smiled. "You will."

Soap was incredulous. Rodolfo was still giving Alejandro the "no touch" treatment, but Alejandro had brought his entire wardrobe over. So Rodolfo was in his showiest outfits and Alejandro had not been allowed to touch him at all.

Soap did not fucking get this at all. "Rudy! He's a serial killer! You- you cannot honestly think this tactic is going to work??"

Rodolfo sighed. He was on the couch, watching TV with him. "Soap, we are kind of stuck here. So, as long as they have us kidnapped, Ale gets to see and not touch."

Soap stared at him. "That's the method you're sticking with. Seriously??"

Rodolfo shrugged a bit. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Reluctantly, Soap had to admit that he did not. He really didn't think they'd get too far if they ran.

Honestly, as far as the house went, they were well taken care of. Soap had forgotten just how loaded Alejandro was. It had a fucking waterfall fountain in it. Just casually.

The kitchen was well stocked, Soap had finally given in and eaten, and there was a decent amount of entertainment. Nothing that could communicate with the outside world, of course, but that was expected.

"We need to get one of their phones." Soap mumbled, after a moment.

"And do what, exactly?" Rodolfo sighed.

Soap frowned. "Do you not have any desire to escape at all??"

"Soap. I am exhausted. I just watched close to 40 people be systematically murdered. I broke up with my long term boyfriend and then was kidnapped by him." Rodolfo laid his head back. "I'm tired. Yes, I would like to escape. But, until you have a plan, I'm going to keep lounging around in lingerie and shorts and watching TV."

Soap watched him and then softened a little. This probably was a lot to deal with for Rodolfo... It was a lot for Soap.

Rodolfo was quiet for a moment. "I've never told you how Alejandro and I met. We both survived an axe maniac in the woods. Well, I thought we both survived. He... wore a black skull mask. When we saw him out the window, I was terrified he'd come back to finish me off. And then... we got here and I realized that no. I'd been lied to. Four years of my life were a lie. Alejandro was the axe maniac."

Soap softened more. "Oh, Rudy..." No wonder he was defeated. He'd just found out his long term boyfriend was a fucking psychopath murderer. One who'd murdered to manipulate him into a relationship. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Rodolfo shrugged, staring at the very high ceiling. "He was cunning enough to manipulate me for four years. He's cunning enough to keep us locked here. At least for a while."

Soap cringed a little. "Yeah..." Rodolfo was right. They were not getting out of there for a bit. At this rate, the "no touch" treatment was likely the best he was going to be able to do.

Rodolfo was suddenly up, glaring at the doorway. Soap followed his eyes to see Alejandro was standing there. Alejandro looked distraught. "Mi sol, please end this punishment..."

"Go fuck yourself!" Rodolfo backed away when Alejandro came over and Alejandro pleaded with him. "No!"

Now that Soap had realized that this was their best option, this was kind of amusing. Soap leaned back, watching Alejandro desperately plead with Rodolfo, half in English, half in Spanish. Rodolfo just crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Please, Rudy..." Alejandro begged, almost on his knees. "Mi sol, I will do anything."

"Take us back."

"Mi Sol, I will do almost anything." Alejandro put his hands together.

Rodolfo rolled his eyes and turned away. Soap remembered Alejandro saying he had a media room in the basement, so he decided to leave them to that. He trusted Rodolfo could hold his own, going downstairs.

As Alejandro had said, there was a media room. It was small but it had a giant projector and some seats, so Soap went up to see what movies it had, curious. He decided to at least try not to spend every waking moment he had there with anxiety.

"What movies do you like?"

Soap jerked back, hearing Ghost's voice. "Asshole! Do you do that on purpose?"

Ghost frowned. "Do what?"

Soap narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. "Nothing." He turned back to the movie library on the computer attached to the projector. "Ironically... horror movies. Not... not anymore. I can't stomach them."

"Why not?" Ghost moved so Soap could see him again.

Soap blinked and looked at him, as if to say "are you serious?" Ghost, however, only stared back at him, genuinely curious. "You're joking, right?"

Ghost shook his head.

Soap took a deep breath. "Let me explain something to you. Normal people get traumatized by waking up to someone's blood dripping on them."

Ghost tilted his head, almost looking like this was a new concept. "Oh."

Soap shook his head again and just picked a random movie.

"So... you being traumatized... does it affect you in other ways?" Ghost followed Soap as he went to a chair, sitting by him but keeping a little distance.

Soap rolled his eyes. "Yeah, several ways."

"What ways?"

Soap wasn't even sure why he was explaining this. "Well, I had nightmares. Quite a few of them. You killing my hookup and cuddling me at night did not help that. I rarely sleep anymore. Sometimes... if I go quiet, I can hear screaming. I smell blood. I see your eyes, and not in a pleasant way."

Ghost frowned. "Oh." He seemed to consider. "And how do you help that?"

"Not being around the person who caused the trauma is a start." Soap glared at him.

"And that's me?" Ghost looked at him. "I traumatized you?"

"Yes."

"Well, we can't do that, then." Ghost frowned and furrowed his brows. He considered. "I'll look into treatments for trauma. Enjoy your movie, Soap." He stood and left.

Soap watched him leave, incredulous again. He was the only normal person in this entire house.

Rodolfo watched Soap leave, frowning. Great, thanks. Rodolfo just continued to ignore Alejandro's pleading. "Please, mi sol. I adore you. I need you. I want to please you... please..."

Rodolfo shook his head, turning away from him.

"Mi sol..." Alejandro sounded so distraught. It was hard not to give in, immediately. Rodolfo had always given in so easily to that voice. It was probably why Alejandro was using it.

"You lied to me..." Rodolfo finally said. "You... You killed my friends!"

"You hated them! They treated you like shit!" Alejandro went in front of him. "Anna was so cruel to you, all of the time. I wanted to kill her a lot earlier, but I needed to have restraint."

Rodolfo again turned away from him and Alejandro made a desperate noise. "She was my friend."

"You met Soap the next month! You never would have if she was alive!"

Rodolfo couldn't deny that one. "But you killed three people to get me to be with you!"

"You wouldn't have, any other way..." Alejandro again moved to the front of him.

Rodolfo huffed, since he couldn't really deny that, either. Alejandro had made his intentions pretty clear before that and Rodolfo had wanted none of it. "You're a murderer..."

"I'm your murderer." Alejandro half grinned.

"You're unbelievable!" Rodolfo turned right back around.

Alejandro whined and was suddenly grabbing Rodolfo and dragging him to the couch. Rodolfo half heartedly went to jerk away but Alejandro didn't care. He just sat on the couch and pulled Rodolfo into his lap, nuzzling his shoulder. "I adore you, Mi Sol. I would die for you. I have killed for you... Forgive me..."

"You're a murderer!" Rodolfo climbed out of his lap, huffing. "You have killed people."

"I love you..." Alejandro looked up at him. His eyes were so desperate and so sad and Rodolfo... he gave in.

Rodolfo softened and slumped. "I love you, too..."

Alejandro grinned, immediately, and pulled Rodolfo back into his lap, kissing all over his jaw and shoulders. "I've been wanting to bring you here and keep you here for a while but I could never find the right time to do it. I want to keep you away from everyone else, no one else deserves you."

Rodolfo shook his head. "No- no. I'm not- I want to still be able to see people, Alejandro. That's not fair. Why do I have to stay here?"

Alejandro paused, clearly not expecting that response. "Because you're mine."

Rodolfo pinched the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, the empathy lessons he'd had to give Alejandro over the course of their relationship made sense. "Alejandro! I like going outside and shopping and going to parties and restaurants and interacting with people!"

Alejandro seemed to consider for a moment before shrugging. "I will go with you to all of that, then."

Rodolfo covered his face. He was getting overwhelmed. Alejandro touched Rodolfo's arms but Rodolfo jerked away from him, tearing up a little.

"No.. Mi sol.. Don't cry, I hate it when you cry..." Alejandro's voice was soft, caring.

"You kidnapped me... You lied and you manipulated me..." Rodolfo whimpered. "Our whole relationship was a lie..."

Alejandro took his hands. "Mi sol... anything I ever did was because I was madly in love with you... I just... you were so beautiful and sweet and funny and... I wanted your attention on me... And I hated your bitch friend because she was constantly putting you down to make herself feel better..."

Rodolfo sniffled and looked up at him. Alejandro smiled down at him. "Rudy, I would kill anyone who hurt you. Give me their name and I'll do it. I adore you. You are the light of my life. You are my life."

Rodolfo couldn't help melting. "But... but I don't want you to kill anyone..."

Alejandro brought Rodolfo's knuckles to his lips, kissing both hands. "I love you so much..."

Rodolfo hesitated before curling back into Alejandro. "I love you, too..."

Soap wished he could say he was shocked that Rodolfo had given in so quickly. But, he wasn’t. Rudy was always kind of weak for Alejandro. Soap had watched Rodolfo give in on so much for Alejandro’s puppy eyes.

Soap, however, was not going to give in to Ghost.

Not when he was still waking up with horrible nightmares. They were worse, now. Fire and smoke and claustrophobia. And the same blue eyes staring deep into his own. It didn’t help that he’d turn around, sometimes, and those blue eyes would be watching him.

Soap tried to entertain himself, since Alejandro didn’t let Rodolfo get more than two feet away from him. But... it was so mind numbingly boring. Soap wasn’t sure he’d felt a positive emotion since he’d gotten there. Fear, boredom, loneliness... That was it.

Ghost never touched him, though. He only watched him. Sometimes, he’d talk to him. Soap had to admit, for someone who spent 7 years in the woods, supposedly, though Soap stumbled on in-home gym and it kind of clicked (also Ghost had his own bedroom), he was fairly charming.

If Soap didn’t see Ghost soaked in blood when he closed his eyes, his attempts may have worked. But, Soap was still deeply terrified of him. Alejandro kept encouraging Soap to give Ghost a chance but he was not taking advice for how to deal with a murderer from another murderer. (He’d tried to get Rodolfo to tell Soap as well but Rodolfo had only glared at Alejandro, so Alejandro gave up quickly on that one. Soap had half a mind to call Alejandro a simp. He still might.)

So, Soap planned to just completely ignore Ghost.

Until he was so mind numbingly bored one night. He couldn’t sleep and Rodolfo now slept in Alejandro’s room, so he couldn’t talk to him. Which left him one option.

The crazy mass murderer.

Soap groaned and shook his head, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting up. Maybe Ghost would be asleep and Soap would just come back and go to bed.

He went down the hallway to where he knew Ghost’s room was. Reluctantly, he knocked on the door, jumping when it opened almost immediately. “Soap.” Ghost looked surprised.

Soap looked away. “Hey. Sorry I um... couldn’t sleep.”

“And you came to me?” Ghost looked almost touched and Soap huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, don’t make a big deal over it,” he muttered. He pushed around Ghost, going into his room.

Ghost followed him, though he still gave him distance. “I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Soap sat on Ghost’s room and sat down. He wasn’t shocked at the Slasher posters on his wall. They covered black painted walls, as well as death metal posters and satanism symbols. God, what a fucking weirdo. “Satanism?”

“I don’t follow it but I like the stuff and Alejandro thought it was hilarious.” Ghost shrugged, sitting in his desk chair. “It’s a cool aesthetic.”

“Like being a slasher?” Soap snorted.

Ghost shrugged. “The police made me this way. They wanted me to be a murderer so bad. Figured... why not.”

“Because murder is wrong??” Soap stared at him. “And you were a murderer. You killed your family.”

“I did not kill my mother or brother. I’ll admit to my father. Bastard had it coming. But... no, I didn’t kill my mother or my brother.” Ghost shook his head.

Soap frowned. Ghost had no reason to lie but... “Who did, then?”

“My father. He got really drunk. He was trying to kill me, too but... I guess I just snapped.” Ghost shrugged, looking around his room. “Ale found me a few days later, still covered in his blood.”

Soap frowned a little. Jesus. “But your father was dead so they blamed you...”

“I guess. I stayed away from civilization. Alejandro took care of me for the most part. He killed his own father two years later and just turned him into a social recluse who sends his son to do everything.” Ghost looked at Soap, again. “I helped him get Rodolfo, you know.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think I need that story.” Soap shook his head, not really wanting the details on how Alejandro and Ghost teamed up to traumatize Rodolfo.

Ghost shrugged and continued to watch Soap. “When you decided to beg for your life by empathizing with me... It made me feel weird. No one had done that. They’d only ever begged me not to kill them, but you just didn’t want to be fucked up.”

“I’m not like other victims.” Soap mocked and glared at him. “I didn’t beg for my life so you decided to spare it? What am I King Solomon?”

Ghost seemed to perk up a little. “King Solomon... what an interesting metaphor. The man who asked God only for Wisdom and he rewarded him with riches as well. Hmm... I suppose you are.”

Soap narrowed his eyes at him. “A pretentious psychopath, even worse.” He mumbled and looked away, finally.

“I spared you because I wanted to fuck you.” Ghost said, after a moment. “You were right.”

Soap froze, having not expected that. “But you knocked me out when I tried anything.”

“Police sirens.” Ghost shrugged and leaned back. “But, for the year that I didn’t pursue you, I thought about you every day. I thought about your body, mostly. Your mouth.”

Soap turned bright red. Fuck, he was a sucker for bedroom talk and Ghost had a weird way of doing it. He looked away and then stood. “I think I’m tired, I’m going to go to bed.”

Ghost stopped him, immediately. “Wait, I’m sorry. That was too fast. Alejandro... says I can be too intense, sometimes.”

“Yeah, just a bit.” Soap huffed. He paused when Ghost touched his chin and turned Soap to look at him. Soap’s breath caught at the way Ghost stared into his eyes, almost forcing him to keep eye contact.

Soap did manage to yank his eyes away from Ghost. “I will never love you.”

“That’s not true.” Ghost murmured. His thumb traced over Soap’s lips and he had to take in a breath. “I’m willing to wait until you do.”

“You’ll be waiting forever.”

“I’m fine with waiting forever.” Ghost shrugged. “I’ll wait.”

Soap glared at Ghost, but he was only met with a smile. “You’re a bastard.”

“You really are just a pretty man. I didn’t get why Alejandro said Rodolfo was pretty and beautiful so much but... I do now. You’re so beautiful. I want to look at you all day every day. Trace your features with my eyes...”

Soap clenched his hands into fists, trying not to show how flustered that made him. “It’s fairly obvious you and Alejandro are best friends. Did he teach you how to say those things?”

“You pick it up, after a bit.” Ghost shrugged.

Soap looked away, pulling away from Ghost’s touch. “You make me afraid.”

“That is understandable.” Ghost nodded. “I killed several people in front of you. But trust that I am in love with you, Johnny. I will wait for you to love me, too.”

“Goodnight.” Soap muttered and left, not wanting to entertain his words. He would never love Ghost. Ever.

Soap woke up screaming, begging for his own life. He jerked back, moments later, when his door was being thrown open. He panicked, climbing out of the bed and backing as far away from the door as he could.

Ghost was standing there, looking fairly freaked out. “You screamed...”

Soap couldn’t help but soften at the concern in Ghost’s eyes. “I had a nightmare...”

“Are you alright?” Ghost came into the room. Soap took in a shuddering breath and shook his head, still shaking. It’d been horrible. He’d re-experienced the entire night over again, in excruciating horrible detail.

Ghost came over and seemed to hesitate before pulling Soap into his arms. Soap almost wanted to pull away, but he was so tired and so scared and Ghost was holding him and he hadn’t been held in so long and Soap just melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Ghost’s waist.

Ghost seemed awkward, but he put his arms around him, and held him close. Soap took in another shaky breath, closing his eyes and pressing his face into Ghost’s chest. Soap liked the way Ghost smelled. Clean laundry and skin. No blood or smoke.

Soap eventually pulled away when his own shaking subsided a little. He took a deep breath, avoiding Ghost’s gaze. This didn’t mean anything. He didn’t love Ghost. He didn’t want Ghost. Ghost scared the shit- “Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Please don’t go.” Soap cringed at the pleading in his own voice, embarrassed. That sounded pathetic.

Ghost looked like Soap had just handed him Christmas. “Alright.”

Soap hesitated before climbing back in bed, lifting the blanket. Ghost didn’t even hesitate, just climbing right into the bed with him. Soap curled up to him, relaxing when Ghost again put his arms around him.

He had to admit, when Ghost had put his arms around him the night he thought he was Evan, it had been nice when he didn’t know it was Ghost. Ghost was so firm and warm and Soap had loved it. “Go back to sleep, Johnny. I’ve got you.”

Soap relaxed and nodded, doing just that.

#slasher ghost #slasher alejandro #Alejandro Vargas #Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro x Rodolfo #Aledolfo #Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II #Call Of Duty #Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #bunnie's slasherverse

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astrabear · 1 year

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15 questions, 15 tags

tagged by @ongreenergrasses. Not gonna tag 15 people, that's like 30% of all the people I follow.

Are you named after anyone? I have the name that my mother would have had, if my grandmother hadn't changed her mind at the last minute and given her a popular name instead. My mother always resented being one of many [name]s in her classes at school and was determined that if she had a daughter, she'd use this name.

When was the last time you cried? Man, I don't fuckin know. My dad died a year and a half ago, my stepfather died a few months ago, I've been unemployed and looking for work since December (just accepted an offer the other day, so that's cool), I visit my mom regularly and she's having a really hard time, and there was an ice storm a couple of weeks ago that left us without power for 36 hours and brought up a bunch of trauma from a debilitating storm two years ago. Also I have depression and anxiety. I can't be bothered to keep track of when or how often I cry, is what I'm saying. Sometime in the past week, probably.

Do you have kids? nope

Do you use sarcasm a lot? When joking with my roommate, yes. As part of general communication, I use it but I think not a lot?

What's the first thing you notice about people? Doesn't this depend on what's noticeable? Like if someone has blue hair, I'm gonna notice the blue hair first. Anything that stands out or seems unexpected - unusual hair color, tattoos, certain hair styles, size/height/other features that are at either end of the bell curve, dramatic clothes or accessories.

What's your eye color? Dark brown

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, definitely.

Any special talents? I notice and remember stuff about people, and I connect pieces of information. Someone once described it as my superpower. This makes me very good at giving gifts. Sometimes I have to keep it to myself in order to not sound creepy (because people aren't necessarily prepared for you to remember something they said in passing a year ago, and then connect it to something that someone else mentioned last week, and use that to infer something they had not yet told you.) I'm also bizarrely good at finding specific Old Guard fanfics.

Where were you born? Houston, Texas

What are your hobbies? I have had so many hobbies that I no longer currently practice. I want to get back into cooking and baking (as hobbies rather than just necessity). I write. I play the Sims. For a while I was using the Sims to make fanvids, but that's fallen away as the writing has picked up. I'd like to start drawing again. It's going to take some time to get back in shape enough to do it, but I'd love to one day take up weightlifting again.

Do you have any pets? I have two cats, Truffle and Tristan. They will be turning 4 in a couple of months. I adopted them in 2019 and I can't imagine getting through lockdown without them. I made up these song lyrics about them, back when "Bad Guy" was still a thing: So he's a buff guy Not got lots of fluff guy Likes to play real rough guy Tail always so puffed guy She's that smart type Take my things apart type Face a work of art type Got a loving heart type They are good cats Duh

What sports do you play/have you played? None. The only physical endeavor that I've ever been serious about was weightlifting, but never competitively.

How tall are you? 5'3, 160cm. I'm basically a hobbit.

Favorite subject in school? In high school, English. In college, probably history.

Dream job? Alas, there is no job out there that would include doing complex work in spreadsheets and databases, and coaching/mentoring other people, and doing some kind of problem solving/information and referral work that gives people immediate assistance. When I did social service type jobs, I felt like I wasn't getting enough mental stimulation, and now that I'm working more analytical jobs I miss the satisfaction of helping people. Oh well.

Like I said, I'm not going to tag 15 people. But I will tag @lazaefair, because you're my most recent follow so I know you the least well.

For cat pics, see below

Truffle, my perfect angel baby:

And Tristan, my little goblin boy:

#tag game #getting to know you #my cats

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randomrosewrites · 3 years

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Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.

#i cant beleive this is so long ganyu my love #ganyu x reader #ganyu x you #genshin impact #ganyu imagines #genshin impact imagines #my writing #genshin impact fanfiction

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cosette141 · 2 years

Text

On the Other Hand (OUAT fanfic)

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Pairing: Captain Swan

Author: cosette141

Words: 1291 (ongoing wip)

Summary: (tag to s4 episode "The Apprentice") After two hundred years without a hand, Killian gets it back... and then loses it again in the same day. I felt like we missed out on a lot of the emotional component of this, so this is my attempt to encompass that, as well as make him feel better about it. (Lots of angst, but with an eventual fluffy, comfy ending!) CS

AO3 link

Chapter One

"I'm here to ask you out."

Never has Killian Jones missed a dart board quite so extravagantly in his life.

Yet…

Never in Killian's life would he have expected to hear those words from Emma Swan's lips.

Thank the gods she couldn't see his face when she'd said them, for he was positive he wouldn't have been able to school the utter boyish excitement from his features quickly enough.

The moment she left the diner, he'd retreated to his room.

Shut the door.

Swallowed.

It felt like as quickly as the excitement, the rush that came at the idea of a date with Emma, of Emma finally feeling the same as he did…

It faded.

A million thoughts raced through his head, each touched by a slight anxiety that he's never felt before. He's been with his fair share of women (ahem, an unfair share, more accurately), but he hasn't courted a woman since Milah.

He hadn't had to worry so much what women thought of him when it came down to one night; he doubted they remembered the finer details of his face come morning, and he could hardly recall theirs at all (and the rum helped). His own reputation and his natural attractiveness—devilish handsomeness, it was simply a fact, ego be damned—that gained him his choosing of women whenever he was in need of a good time.

Meeting Milah was the first time he'd felt anything after Liam's death.

Courting her felt like a gift.

Simply having someone who stayed longer than the morning, someone to know, someone who knew him. Someone who bloody cared to know him.

And though he'd never courted anyone prior to Milah, never met anyone worthy of the risk of love, though he was a pirate, when it came to Milah, he'd been selfless. He'd actually taken her to the lands where they carried women on jeweled chairs, for no other reason than to show her just how he felt she should be treated. Anywhere she wanted to go was his destination. He risked his life at every turn to ensure her safety, planned beautiful nights under starlit skies on the seas—something he'd love to show Emma one day if this goes that far—he'd use his feared reputation to get them the finest things, dining, anything her heart desired.

Killian hadn't been lying when he'd told Emma that he knew how to plan a romantic evening.

However, there was something he'd… forgotten, until now, until he'd stepped into his room.

The reminder took his joy with it.

Because there was a distinct difference between the version of him that courted Milah, and who he was now, about to court Emma.

And that difference stared back at him in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall, the light glinting off it from the sun outside.

Killian felt his eyes fall to his hook.

He lifted his arm, touching the metal with the fingers of his right hand.

His only hand.

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Emma had seen him without his hook, once.

Even sans the brace.

He'd only been glad that the medical professionals had bothered to give him a bandage to hide the worst of it, where his wrist had been cauterized.

She'd seen his… his imperfection nonetheless, however.

But, that was a long time ago.

Emma hadn't been focused on him; her mind was focused on Cora and solving the town's problem. It was one of the only times Killian was relieved she had a one-track mind when it came to her work.

She probably hasn't thought about it again after that day.

Probably.

However, he wasn't immune to the shots people take at his one-handedness. And as much as he tries to forget it, Emma was no exception.

"Take Hook with you."

"What's he gonna do? I have magic, he's got one hand!"

That one, however…

That one had happened very recently.

Just weeks ago.

In the hospital, before they'd gone to take down Zelena, and before he'd nearly drowned.

He knew Emma was angry with him for not telling her about his cursed lips.

He knew how she felt about being lied to.

He understood her anger with him.

But her words had come out so quickly.

As if…

As if it was something she'd always thought.

As if it was something that had often been on her mind.

"He's got one hand."

None of the digs about his hand, in his entire life, had hurt more than that one.

Because for the first time, he was forced to think that she never truly could love him like this.

He let out a breath, looking again at his reflection.

Not that he could blame her.

He's forced to see beneath the hook nearly every day, though he averts his own eyes every chance he can. It's ugly, it's marred, it's a terrible flaw.

How many nights has he woken in a cold sweat, to a nightmare where Milah, having survived their encounter with the Crocodile, leaves him after seeing it?

Would she have stayed?

Can you love half a man?

"He's got one hand."

It's been so long since Emma had seen beneath the hook that Killian wasn't sure she… remembered.

What if, after one of their dates, when she's ready to be intimate with him…

A muscle worked in his jaw.

What if…?

"He's got one hand."

He shut his eyes.

Killian let out a breath that held so much more than air, held age-old pain and longing, and he sank to the mattress, running his hand over his face.

He opened his eyes, glaring at the damn hook.

What if it costs him her?

Killian detached the hook, staring at the brace. For years after the incident, he could almost still feel it, as if it were still there. Like his body and mind didn't understand it was gone. Like they missed it as much as he did.

Killian hasn't felt its ghost in many, many years.

He hadn't had two hands for centuries. He's forgotten what life felt like to have two hands. Always relying on his teeth in an attempt to open and close things. His hook can't do everything a true hand can, and people seem to always forget there are things he can't do. And in those moments, there's always the awkward, bloody humiliating pause when they realize. To see pity in their eyes hurt more than losing the damn hand did. So many things that Killian sees people handle with simplicity, without even a second thought, is something he has to constantly try to figure out how to do. Nevermind the always-lingering fear of injuring his right hand, even temporarily. What the bloody hell was he supposed to do then?

And all of this, a lifetime of this, for what?

A bloody magic bean?

Rumplestiltskin didn't have to cut off his hand.

The demon did so gleefully, leaving Killian to live a life that, more than once, Killian has considered far worse than death.

"Bloody Crocodile," he hissed to the stump, to the ever-present reminder of everything he was not.

But the reminder of the man who took his hand made Killian sit up. Something occurred to him for the first time since he and the demon buried the hatchet.

Perhaps…

It did seem like the twisted sort of thing a demon like him would do.

And if it were true…

Killian felt a little twitch at his lips.

He stood, and clicked the hook back into place.

Paused there, listening to the echo of the metal snap.

Took a breath.

And hoped that it would be the last time he would ever hear it again.

AO3

tag list: @teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones

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thyandrawrites · 3 years

Text

tag meme

I was tagged by @haleigh-sloth. Thank you for the mention!

Why did you choose your URL?

My original url for this blog was bloodycarnations. It was supposed to be a reference to a scene in Tokyo ghoul where Kaneki bleeds onto a bed of white carnations and they symbolically turn into red spider lilies. I switched to thyandrawrites because I'm no longer a tg blog. Thyandra is my online nickname and my pseud on ao3, and I wanted people to connect this blog to my writing more easily

Any side blogs?

only one that I occasionally use, @thyandrascorner. Since I wanted this blog to stay bnha-centric, I made that sideblog to share all the cool reblogs from other fandoms / temporary obsessions. You can probably guess from the occasional HQ post on here that I failed at keeping this blog bnha-only lol

How long have you been on tumblr

counting the blog I had before this one, since 2014. this blog only exists since 2015 though

Do you have a queue tag?

I can't remember, lol. I rarely ever queue. If I did have a tag, it was probably just "q"

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Before this blog, i had a multifandom one. When my obsession for Tokyo ghoul became too big, I decided to start anew and created this blog with the intention of it staying tg-centric. When TG ended and my interest in the fandom waned due to drama, I simply switched to a different fandom (bnha) and now here I am

Why did you choose your icon/pfp

I wanted a picture of Dabi with white hair and that one is pretty

Why did you choose your header?

it changes all the time but right now is the lov in suits because that pic is badass

What’s your post with the most notes?

likely my disaster bi Kaminari post. I muted it when it got tumblr famous but holy shit. 12k notes. the bisexuals vibed with it

How many mutuals do you have?

I don't keep count so I have no idea. Likely a dozen, maybe 20ish people? Idk, I have a lot of friends from the ctabb server but I always forget to track down their socials and follow them back

How many followers do you have?

lemme check... 6633

How many people do you follow

437 but my dash is populated by the same 10 people lol. most of them must be inactive

How often do you use tumblr each day?

I usually scroll the dash for half an hour each day when I'm not distracted / busy with something else. Whenever a good chapter drops tho I can spend even a couple of hours on here, either writing meta about it or reading trusted mutuals' takes

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

mmh, I can't remember any actual fight but I admit that I haven't always been on my best behaviour. I sometimes get snappy and very defensive when I can't parse tones well, and that led to a couple of confrontations with anons over the years (some of which were actually people trying to start shit, others were people whose tone I misread and attacked myself). It's an issue I have. I'm working on it! I'm already a lot better at letting things sit without assuming the worst than I used to be. Also because now I have severely crippling confrontation anxiety, but that's another can of worms lol

I once got vagued by a popular blogger who tagged the post with "die bitch" tho... we used to be mutual until then but that opened my eyes to how toxic she was

How do you feel about “you need to reblog this posts”

I have a strong dislike for guilt-tripping. It feels very manipulative, especially when that holier-than-thou attitude is performative. A reblog about a sensitive topic deserving attention doesn't substitute actual activism and guilt-tripping people into thinking so is straight-up shitty

Do you like tag games?

It depends on the game! But in general, yes

Do you like ask games?

Same as above. I never shared any of those super long lists of personal questions for example. I don't like talking about myself

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I feel like all my meta blogger mutuals have pretty big followings. @/linkspooky @/hamliet @/transhawks to name a few. I'm also followed back by some big-name artists somehow...??? How did that happen (not mentioning them because hello social anxiety my old friend...)

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I used to! I go from being a misanthrope to crushing very easily on people. No in between. The person in question was an author whose writing made me feel seen and gave me the illusion of seeing them in turn. I ended up crushing on them for a short while but it was just a parasocial relationship I created by assuming things on them from the way they described the world in their writing. Kinda dumb in retrospect, lmao. Silly old me, what did you expect from an internet relationship

Tagging: uhh I haven't been online a lot in the past days so idk who's already done this...? any mutual who wants to do it can consider themselves tagged by me

#tag meme

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javisjeanjacket · 4 years

Text

Exile - (poe dameron x fem!reader)

Folklore Series Part 1 /4

A/N: who doesn’t love a bit of yearning in the evening?? this one is inspired by Taylor Swift’s new song, ‘Exile’. If I used your gif or photo in my collage, let me know and I will add your tag! :)

Warnings: cursing, yearning, alcohol reference, poe dameron is in it so there should be a thirst warning as well

Word count: 2K

"Excellent work, the First Order's work on light speed tracking will be extremely valuable if we can crack their hextacryption. Go ahead and return to base." Leia's voice crackled over the holodisplay.

"General, I thought I was assigned to Coruscant permanently." You said, your eyebrows pursed in concern.

Leia chuckled. "I wish we had the money to keep you there permanently. Come back to base and the team will decide where your next deployment will be. May the Force be with you." The gray-haired woman bowed her head and the holodisplay vanished.

You stuffed the holoprojector in your back pocket as your chest tightened. You blinked several times, trying to force your emotions to sort themselves out.

Speeders, cargo ships, and public transports zoomed outside your tiny hotel room viewport. For a moment, it struck you how every one of those creatures in every one of those vehicles had a life as rich and flawed as your own.

Your mind wandered to Poe Dameron; lost somewhere in the stars so very far away from you. Your fingers absentmindedly grazed over the top of your wrist and for a fleeting moment, you were able to convince yourself it was Poe's hand on your skin.

The communicator on the nightstand beeped, pulling you from your delusion, and resounded, "Transport arriving at 21:04."

Taking a steadying breath, you looked once more over the hotel room that had become your home during your work on the city planet. Your mind filled with memories of nights not too long past; how your body had curled into the thin sheets and how violently your fingers had clenched the pillow tucked to your chest. Flashes of nightmares zipped through your mind as did the many nights spent with your heart drowning in tears and alcohol.

A deep loneliness washed over you, pushing your heart to jump and yelp against your rib cage.

Your eyes felt heavy and hot tears pricked at the sides of them as you began to gather your clothes from the small closet in the corner of the room. Haphazardly stuffing them in your rucksack, your mind did not have to work hard to envelop you completely.

Ripped from some hiding spot deep within, the memory of Poe's hand on your back sending shivers across your skin, now spun on display in the front of your thoughts. His smile beaming in the sunlight. How soft his lips were on your cheek every morning, the sweet must of your bodies intertwined. The wave of his hair curling away from his face. The fire in his eyes and in his footsteps.

The feelings still living inside of you for Poe Dameron; so long harbored and so long neglected, moved with a fury to invigorate your feeble heart. Beating against your chest, the muscle threatened to shatter all over again.

Reality reminded you of the last time you had seen the pilot; the red rings around his deep brown eyes and his hand tracing his lips, frustrated. How hot the fire inside your chest had burned, how utterly defeated you had felt. How the feeling of your words, heavy as stones in your mouth, still filled you with regret.

The way his face had twisted in pain, how taken aback he was. Poe, for as much as you loved him, could never seem to hear you out. In his mind, he felt that he could make things the way he wanted them to be, just by his sheer will and determination. To him, Poe Dameron was the end all, be all of his own destiny. And, to an extent, he was right, but when it came to other people he struggled with the notion that to have them in his life, it meant he actually had to have them in his life.

You dropped your head to your chest and wiped a warbling tear from your eye.

One of your favorite shirts wrapped around your hand; absentmindedly you had strangled it.

You stuffed the shirt into your bulging bag and zipped it closed.

Taking a deep breath, you flicked your eyes to the clock on your bedside table.

'21:03' It displayed. Swallowing against a dry throat, you picked your rucksack up from the floor and left your hotel room, the lock clicking firmly behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't know what you expected to feel, coming back to Base after months away, but it wasn't this.

You sat upright in the pilot's chair of your ship, your back straight against the cushion behind you and your knees pushed tightly together. Nausea rose in the back of your throat and you had to force it back down.

The Resistance Base came into view and your heart leapt from your chest and into your hands. Your fingertips seemed to glow, drunk on a cocktail of adrenaline and anxiety. Your own words echoed around your mind, 'I think that it's best if you just leave me alone.' 'When I'm with you, I can't stop myself from trying to pretend that I don't feel the way I do.'

'Do I still feel that way?' You interrupted yourself.

Mindlessly, your fingers began to prep the landing sequence.

'I'll have to see him. I can be civil. I'm sure I was just being dramatic.' Your eyes settled over the Resistance flight techs moseying in your direction, half hoping to recognize a face on one of them.

Taking a deep breath and hurrying through the ship to gather your things, you met the landing dock as it lowered to the ground beneath you. You nodded a greeting and smiled softly to the techs hurrying towards your ship, asking if you needed fuel or repairs.

A familiar astromech droid's beeping pulled your attention to your shin.

You smiled broadly at the little orange and white ball droid, squealing as you bent down to rub his sides. "BB-8!" You exclaimed. "Oh, I missed you buddy!"

The droid moved back and forth excitedly and beeped rapidly, firing off a story just too important not to tell you.

You nodded, fully unaware of what he was saying, but happy to see him so happy nonetheless. The droid finished his spewing and began to whir back to the compound, towards the one person you did not want to see, you assumed.

"BB-8!" You called, not wanting to hurt the little droid's feelings by abandoning him. "I'm going to find Leia."

The droid's visual receptor widened and then narrowed. His system was processing why you didn’t choose the most logical thing to do after being away from Poe for so many months.

You smiled gently at the droid and headed towards the bustling Base entrance. Resistance members hurried past you, chatting to each other, pointing harshly with eyebrows furrowed, and others laughing heartily.

The path through the D'Qar Base was easy and memorized, your boots clacking on the metallic floor below steadily. You shouldered your rucksack closer to you and squeezed through the frantic hallway. Nerves wrapped their hands around your stomach, flipping it over and over again. Your eyes scanned the hordes of people, unconsciously searching for the face of the Resistance's most valuable pilot. You made your way into the war room where you spotted Leia's heather gray hair hovering over a holodisplay table. Close by though, a familiar black mop of unruly curls moved from one side of the room to the other. His voice carried through the din and his finger pointed to something on the holodisplay.

Suddenly, your legs were planted where you stood. You could feel them tremble and your breathing hitch on it's way out. Half of you screamed, 'Run! Run!' and the other half felt as if it would never move again.

'Well, I can't very well run away now, people have seen me.'

Taking several short breaths in, you moved your gaze from Poe to Leia. Setting your shoulders back and sticking your chin out defiantly, you moved through the clusters of Resistance intel officers to General Organa.

She and Poe both had their backs to you, Poe still explaining his thoughts.

"General Organa." You said, your chest out proudly.

Leia turned to face you and her features softened.

At the sound of your voice, Poe whipped around from the star chart in front of him and his mouth gaped slightly.

You could feel how hot his gaze burned on your face, but you dared not to meet his eyes and satisfy him.

Leia greeted you and ran her hands up your forearms. "I'm so glad you're back safely. The intel you brought us was invaluable."

You smiled at her as your thoughts began to pound against your skull, 'Look at him, look at him, look at him.'

"Thank you, Leia." You answered.

"Poe," Leia began and turned to your ex-boyfriend.

Anxiety rose up in your chest and your eyes moved back and forth between the two of them frantically.

"Will you make sure your friend here makes it to her quarters alright? I can finish up here without you." She looked between the two of you with a knowing look on her face.

"Oh, General, that's not-" You began.

Leia held up a jewel-clad hand. "I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about."

Your eyes finally met Poe's and you could almost feel yourself tripping into them again.

Poe's face was set, his curiosity now turned to steeliness. He pulled his eyes from yours and looked down at his boots. His hands rested on his hips underneath his flightsuit, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to snap it's fangs at you. He looked up at you again, his chest beating shallowly, and then turned to walk down the corridor you had entered through. His frustration trailed after him, bouncing and wailing like a child pouting.

You clutched the strap of your bag and kept your head down, your eyes following the up and down of Poe's scuffed boots through the hallway.

He turned and lead you down a darkened corridor, and as well as you could remember, it was no longer used because of the unsafe door panel wiring.

Your eyebrows scrunched and you could feel a shudder in your chest as you realized why he had brought you this way. The best pilot in the Resistance wanted closure.

Poe's lean body turned around to face you. His bottom lip tucked into his mouth and his eyes scanned the hallway behind you, his senses heightened by the surprise of seeing you.

"Look," He began, his arms crossed over his chest. His voice was just as you remembered it. Just as you had heard it so many times before.

A burning desire to hear your name in his mouth again, to hear him shape you with his tongue, rose in your chest.

"We gotta talk about what happened. If you're gonna be here, I need to know how to be around you." His dark eyes had an unrelenting hold on yours. In the dim light of the hallway, shadows played across his face, painting him in darkness almost overwhelming.

"I don't know what you want me to say." You choked out. A muscle behind your eye twitched.

"Do you want me to not talk to you and avoid you in the halls or what? What do you want?" Poe's voice was laced with frustration. You could sense a deep melancholy in him and the anger guarding it carefully.

"No, Poe, I-" You sighed and tucked your shaking hands into your back pockets. "You don't have to do that."

"Then, what?" He spat. His arms flung outwards to emphasize the end of his question. He was trying to keep his voice quiet but his passion kept pushing him upwards.

"Why don't you tell me what you want." You said, his frustration frustrating you.

Poe chuckled indignantly. "What I want? What do I want?" He took a step back and turned from you. "Do you even remember what we were like?"

You gritted your teeth as you blinked hot tears away from your eyes. Of course, you remembered. The secret dates off-planet, the way he would run to wherever you were to give you a goodbye kiss before leaving on mission, no matter how quickly he needed to take off. How could you forget?

"I remember everything." You whispered.

Poe's face scanned over yours, searching for what you meant to say. His jaw set and his chest heaved shallowly. His head tilted to the side, looking at you. The skin around his eyes softened.

"Then...what happened?" He asked tenderly.

"I ...I loved you every day we were together." You admitted. The words nestled for so many months in your heart now taking off and flying on their own.

"It was real for me, whatever we were. But..." You shook your head, your eyes keeping Poe's hostage. "I don't think it was for you."

Poe reached a shaking hand out to touch your face. His skin kissed your cheek and your eyes shut involuntarily, a relief you didn't know you needed. "I never could read your mind, could I?" He chuckled lightly.

One side of your face turned upwards and your throat burned at the tears yanking at your eyes.

His thumb wandered to graze down your chin and then to rest around your jaw. "I missed you every day we were apart. I pretended like I didn't but...you never gave me a warning sign. I never understood what happened." His eyes fell to your lips and his body seemed to freeze in place there.

You shook your head and pulled yourself out of his ensnaring grasp. "Poe, I gave you every sign that I could. I told you every day, a million little times, that I was going to leave. You just didn't want to hear me."

The pilot sighed heavily and his eyes watered. "Can we just...try again? Do you," He sighed again and looked back up to your eyes. "Do you still feel the same way about me?"

You pulled your top lip into your mouth and drug it across your teeth, the pain a welcome release of the mounting pressure inside you. "We've both seen this Holofilm before, and neither of us liked the ending. It's time to let go." The harshness of your own words ripped your throat to shreds, but you kept your lips firmly shut.

"And what if I can't let go?" Poe asked, his tone clipping at the end of his unspoken deceleration. His body moved closer to yours and his wide palm reached to hold the small of your back.

Looking up into Poe’s hazel eyes and feeling his muscles tensing around your body again sent a wave of light-headedness through your mind.

"I think I can find my quarters on my own, Commander. Thank you for your help." Your voice broke as you pushed yourself out of Poe's grasp and headed towards the women's sleeping quarters. You kept your eyes trained on the ground below as you tainted it with hot tears, plopping and splashing against the cool metal of the Resistance base floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~

What did you think? I really hope you enjoyed reading my work. Just your liking / re-blogging it means a lot. If you have a moment, I would love to hear your thoughts! Tell me what you think via my ask box or a comment always warms my heart!! Thank you again for reading!

Need more reading material? You can visit my Masterlist for more Poe Dameron content, as well as my other works.

Want to be kept in the loop? Let me know so I can put your handle in my taglist form. Right now, I’m writing for Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, and Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia, but I have plans to expand my SW character list, and eventually add in my favorites from the MCU as well.

Thanks again for reading! Sending love! -hai

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not-poignant · 4 years

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Hi Pia, longtime reader, first time asker. Your writing is very therapeutic and important to me. However, I've started having a lot of anxiety around FFS, a story I deeply love. As someone who experiences similar intrusive thoughts to Ef and is slightly traumatized by traditional story structure, I'm extremely afraid that Ef will "fail" for a plot device and do the things he's most afraid of doing. Can you warn me if that's going to happen? Like in the tags maybe?

Hiya anon,

While I have no particular plan to have Efnisien relapse (and it’s certainly not going to be the intended drama), I can’t warn for what I don’t know is going to be in the story. I’m writing FFS completely unplanned, and I’m following the characters, so I can’t tell you either way what 100% is or isn’t going to happen. Like the major conflict/drama points in this story do not, so far, centre around Efnisien relapsing. But that doesn’t mean it might not happen outside of that, or that things might not change down the track. This story has already thrown me a lot of curveballs, and it would be irresponsible of me to say that a story won’t have certain content just because - right now - I’m not planning for it to have that content.

That being said, if Efnisien does relapse, it wouldn’t be the end of the world? It’s fairly realistic to his recovery. Even if Efnisien thought it was the end of the world, it really wouldn’t be. It wouldn’t undo the three years of progress that he’s made, it wouldn’t undo the techniques he’s learned for self-management, and it wouldn’t mean that he’s going to become who he used to be.

It would be considered kind of an understandable part of his non-linear healing process and both Efnisien and Dr Gary would already have protocols in place for what to do if that did happen. Like, Dr Gary has expected relapses long before now, and one of the reasons Efnisien makes the tallies on the board is in part, one of his protocols to help prevent that. But it’s not foolproof, and Efnisien is just human. It wouldn’t be treated like a massive plot device because frankly it isn’t one. It would be if anything, a way of showing just how far Efnisien’s come. It’s just a part of his manifestation of the messy nature of his disorders, which includes far far more than intrusive thoughts.

Keep in mind that 99.9% (probably less, frankly) of people with intrusive thoughts don’t act on them and don’t want to act on them. Efnisien’s situation is different because he was coerced into acting on them. Having similar intrusive thoughts is not the same as being in a genuinely similar situation to Efnisien. His profile psychologically is extremely complex, and includes having sadistic opportunism incentivised because it was literally the only way he could be loved and experience love growing up. Efnisien is definitely learning that he can experience positive attention without doing those things, so those things are less likely to happen. Chances are that even if you relate to some aspects of Efnisien’s mental state, you don’t have the exact cocktail of disorders and things going on that made him act on his thoughts in the first place.

While Efnisien behaves as though many of the things he thinks are disastrous, Dr Gary doesn’t think it would be unreasonable for Efnisien to relapse under severe stress. And please keep in mind that Efnisien’s intrusive thoughts also include severe and unusual self-harm, there’s a wide spectrum there, and if he relapses it could have quite a few different ways of manifesting. We already know he’s got some anger management and impulsivity issues around Dr Gary, in particular.

If it is going to happen in they story, I’d definitely put tags in that chapter that there’s a relapse situation happening (or at least explain the content and make it clear that it’s not happening in intrusive-thought form) and then probably consider something like ‘minor relapse’ in the main tags.

As always, if a story is causing anxiety to a point where it can’t be regulated, I don’t recommend continuing on with that story. Especially if it’s hitting too close to home in a way that no longer feels good. That’s the point at which the story can become triggering or harmful, even if you’re enjoying aspects of it, the cost becomes too high. You can always just wait until it’s finished.

The whole point of FFS for me personally is that I don’t have a chapter plan, so I can’t promise that something of that nature won’t be in the story in the future. I know myself as a writer, I wouldn’t do it in an exploitative way, but I just can’t give you the reassurance you’re looking for. Unlike the majority of my other writing, the whole point and enjoyment of this story for me is that it’s unplanned, so I’m just not locking in future plot points (or ruling them out), unfortunately.

#asks and answers #falling falling stars #efnisien ap wledig #fae tales #fae tales AU #i would hate if i said #'i don't plan for it to happen'#and then it happens in 30 chapters #and i forgot i committed to something here #that would make no sense for efnisien in 20 chapters time #at any rate #it's not what i've got planned for efnisien #it's not that kind of story #a hopeful ending isn't congruent with him not constantly being on a road to recovery #but given his past #it's also reasonable to expect that he will relapse #that's not a plot device #that's just...how it is #and efnisien relapsing #is NOT anywhere in the same ballpark #as a person who experiences intrusive thoughts acting on them for the first time #i really doubt #that you and he are the same #because you both share similar content intrusive thoughts #and that's something to keep in mind whether you keep or stop reading #Anonymous

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bottomhaztoplou · 5 months

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sit pretty, good kitty (3k) by DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry // bottomhaztoplou | @paranormalbabydoll

Written for the @1d-oneliner-fest!

Louis treats his Kitten to an afternoon of fun.

Read it here on AO3!

(Collage info: Collage made by me on Canva using pictures from Pexels and Google.)

#my fic #my writing #larry fanfiction #larry fluff #larry smut #dom louis #sub harry #i'm no longer using tracking tags because anxiety #1donelinerfest #kitten harry #human louis #cat hybrid harry

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retroateez · 4 years

Text

1980s horror film - s.mingi

hello all!!!

it’s been a lot longer than i intended, but a bunch of stuff came up and i both didn’t have time and didn’t feel like writing. this also wasn’t what i initially planned on posting, but life works weirdly and here we are. that being said, i wrote this in a way that is different to how i typically write so i apologise if it sounds/feels weird or awkward. regardless, i hope u enjoy! (also i didn’t realise it was all lower case so please ignore the inconsistency lmao)

pairing: song mingi x reader genre: unrequited love?? idk how to tag it oops word count: 1660 this is inspired by a song titled ‘1980s horror film II’ by wallows!

mingi had been waiting for eons to score a date with y/n. way too long. all of his friends (mainly wooyoung), teased him constantly about her, but he had never gathered the courage to do anything about it.

they'd been friends for a long while, even hanging out a few times together at the cinema, or just going out for lunch before mingi realised he had an absolutely huge crush on her.

recently he'd been avoiding her like the plague, using volleyball practice, or band rehearsal with the boys as an excuse not to hang out with her.

that was, until one sunny saturday afternoon, when she called him out of the blue. he took a few moments to collect himself, staring at the ringing phone in his hand like it was a ticking bomb seconds away from a devastating explosion.

"hey dingus!" y/n called down the phone once he had collected himself enough to answer. "what are you doing?" she asked.

"nothing. why?"

"i'm bored." she declared. "wanna come over?"

"s-sure!" mingi agreed straight away.

"sweet. see you soon then!" y/n hung up, and mingi was convinced he might pass out.

he'd never been to her house before. maybe she really did like him back? oh god, he was starting to internally panic now; how was he supposed to act? he didn't want to be a creep but he didn't want to be painfully awkward either. oh god. oh god oh god oh god.

"get it together, mingi." he scowled at himself in the mirror, shaking his faded red hair side to side. he couldn’t make a fool of himself in front of her; he absolutely would not allow it.

this could be his chance, to finally muster enough balls to ask y/n out before it was too late. yes, he'd decided; today would be the day.

-----

half an hour later, an exceptionally nervous song mingi knocked on the door of his highschool crush. he reached up and brushed a shaking hand through his hair, wondering whether his legs were numb from fear or the chilling bite of the surprisingly cold weather.

a few moments passed, then the door swung open to reveal y/n. she was dressed in her usual style, comfy, stylish, beautiful, very y/n. in truth, she could be wearing a trashbag and mingi would still say she looked gorgeous.

she gave him a wide, toothy grin and stepped aside to let him in.

"welcome to mi casa!" she motioned to the hallway dramatically, one arm sweeping out in front of her and almost bashing her elbow into the kitchen doorframe.

"i wanna watch a movie!" she said, once she had recovered from the near injury. "i've already got the snacks ready, so let's go!"

she began bounding up the stairs, mingi following her before realising where they were headed and freezing abruptly in his tracks.

"we're going upstairs?" he breathed, anxiety flooding him from head to foot.

just what exactly was she expecting from him?

"yeah?" she shrugged. "is that a problem?"

"no!" he replied, perhaps a little too quickly. "no, that's not a problem at all."

-----

he was scared.

bordering on terrified.

y/n's bedroom was dark; having pulled the curtains before mingi's arrival to avoid the sun glaring onto the television.

as the minutes went on, mingi became less and less sure just what she was planning this afternoon.

she paced over to the tv set, opening a dvd case and slotting a disc into the player.

"it's a 1980s horror film," she explained. "i've been wanting to watch it for ages, but i didn't want to watch it alone... you don't mind, do you?"

mingi shook his head quickly. he did in fact mind, not being the biggest fan of the horror genre, but he'd made it this far, and backing out now was definitely not an option. plus, if wooyoung caught wind of mingi chickening out, he would never hear the end of it.

"here," she motioned to her bed; a double, with lilac sheets and an appropriate amount of cushions bundled up by her pillows. "take a seat."

unsure of whether he should, but not wanting to be rude, mingi crawled across her bed, sitting down amidst the cushions and crossing his legs like an obedient, yet timid child. he watched y/n grab her desk chair, dragging it across the room and placing it beside the bed, distanced but still close enough to mingi to completely throw him off his guard.

"don't you want the be-"

"nonsense!" she cut him off before he could even get the words out. "you're my guest, so you get the bed."

mingi was bewildered. never in his life had he expected to be in this situation. it appeared that y/n had absolutely zero intentions of doing anything romantic. which, don't get him wrong, was totally fine, but regardless he was still confused.

all the cheesy high school romance movies he’d watched, and all the young adult fiction novels he had read hinted that when you were invited to your crush’s house, alone, it usually indicated they wanted something romantic. or something more. absolutely nothing had prepared him for, or even suggested that the current circumstances would ever occur in a million years. mingi felt rather cheated, to be honest.

was she making him wait on purpose? deliberately staying away from him in the hopes that he'd just cave in and sweep her off her feet? y/n didn't seem like that kind of girl, but mingi had been wrong about a lot of things when it came to y/n.

the movie began to play, and they sat surrounded by darkness, mingi decided he would simply go with the flow. he was a nervous wreck, but he wasn't a pervert; he wouldn't do anything unless y/n initiated it. the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

despite reaching a solution, he couldn't get it out of his mind how close they were in the moment. glancing to his side, he could very much reach out and gently touch her hair. or softly caress her cheek.

obviously, he wouldn't, because that would be weird. and that was a vibe he was trying to avoid today.

halfway through the movie, y/n jumped up, explaining she had to use the bathroom and scaring the shit out of mingi in the process.

he kept his gaze fixed on the movie playing in front of him, but his mind wandered to other places. he sighed deeply.

he didn't even know what to say to her.

she's always on his mind,

and yet,

he's too afraid to say anything. how long would this pathetic pining go on for? surely it would be better for him to take wooyoung's advice and just go for it? otherwise he'll be playing this game for god knows how long.

that was it.

he simply couldn't help the way he was feeling; he needed to get it out, to tell her how he truly feels.

and maybe, just maybe, she'd feel the same way too.

y/n comes back, and mingi gears himself up for his confession. digging into the deepest corners of his mind to find the right words to use. deciding to abandon his previous resolution to let y/n initiate, he convinces himself to take charge and follow the lead of every heteronormative teen movie in existence, and sweep the girl off her feet.

until she ditches the chair, motioning for mingi to scooch over and then she lays down right beside him.

the bed is fairly large, but then again mingi is no regular sized teenage boy, his lanky frame taking up a considerable portion of the bed.. as a result, his right side and her left are pressed flush against each other, and poor mingi thinks he's about to explode.

but still, he inhales deeply, surveying the situation.

the lights are off,

the mood was right.

perfect.

mingi lets her settle for a short while, which is really him internally psyching himself up, before setting his masterplan into action.

he turns his head slowly to look at y/n, noticing how invested she is in the movie and he pouts a little.

he wants her attention.

she still doesn't notice, so he opts for placing his hand on her cheek as gently as he can and guides her gaze towards him.

her eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but she makes no effort to move away.

frozen anxiety that mingi misinterprets as a green light.

his eyes fall shut, and his upper body leans forward the tiniest amount. he's so close. so close to finally being able to show y/n how he feels. he's seconds away from having a weight lifted off his shoulders. he can't wait to shove it in wooyoung's face either, all the times the younger boy had called him a pussy had pissed mingi off to no end, but look at him now wooyoung, look at him now.

all he needed was for y/n to bridge the gap between them.

but instead, a small hand on mingi's shoulder pushes him back, and his eyes snap open abruptly, and he feels his stomach fall straight through his ass.

"y/n, i-"

the look on her face stops mingi dead in his tracks, because he can't read her expression.

is she mad? is she super pissed that he tried to kiss her? he'd understand if she was, it probably wasn't the best course of action but it was the best he could come up with. is she angry? is she hurt? disappointed? he searches her eyes, burning into his, for answers but comes up short. all he can do is try and guess how she's feeling, but realistically he's no expert, he's no mindreader, how is he suppo-

"mingi, i'm really not that into guys."

oh.

#ateez #song mingi #mingi x reader #unrequited #poor mingi #surprise she's a lesbian #uh oh #song mingi fluff #ateez x reader #mingi fluff #mingi angst #mingi #ateez fluff #ateez angst

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heartlesslywhumping · 5 years

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do you have any recs for poisons to use in a whump? like not to instantly kill the whumpee/victim, but to make them hurt for a long and copious amount of time before they die? there would be a window in which someone could try and save them (and potentially succeed) as well. I'm writing a whump right now and am in some desperate need of help because I can't find any suitable... thanks! I know it's a lot to ask, but if you have any sources to go to or any ideas that'd be great!

I have many! Here are the top 5 that come to mind and are potentially recognizable to your audience.

Remember that anything I say here can be affected by magic, sci-fi, or really anything you want :)

Ricin is a great one! It’s often been sent to government officials so there’s some fairly easy to find info on it, people got curious as to what exactly it was and how it worked. What I know about it is as follows

It can be inhaled, eaten, or injected but is most potent when inhaled or injected.

It takes a deliberate act to be exposed to ricin. There is no natural way to expose someone to it or be exposed to it. Exposure is a deliberate action.

It is a protein in a castor oil plant.

If heated, it is no longer toxic

It can take up to a day for symptoms to show up but it can kill you within three days. If the victim survives more than five days, survival is likely

There is no known antidote to ricin

Victims who ingest the protein get severe nausea and diarrhea. If it is inhaled, the patient will also have difficulty breathing and fluid will build up in the lungs. They end up with an irregular heartbeat, low blood pressure, and seizures. This can last for up to a week. The patient can die of shock and multiple organ failure.If you ingest the protein, treatment can usually reverse the symptoms and patients will survive, though they may suffer long-term organ damage. A man was poisoned with ricin in Las Vegas in February of 2008 and fell in to a coma for more than a month. The Bulgarian writer Markov first showed a fever, was admitted to the hospital, and died three days later.

Another awesome one is Fugu Poison (Tetrodotoxin) This one is most commonly found in marine animals and fish! It is found in the Japanese delicacy Fugu. People still die from improperly prepared or sold fugu. Here is what I know

You only need a little bit to die. I believe roughly 25 milligrams can kill a 75kg human.

Most commonly it’s been ingested, I don’t know if there is another way to take it or be exposed to it.

There is no known antidote save for stomach pumping and forced vomiting, although some people have made a lucky recovery

It is believe to be 1,200 more potent than cyanide

It can take anywhere from 20 minutes to twenty-four hours to kill you

Symptoms begin approximately 3-45 minutes after ingestion.

Symptoms include: lightheadedness, vomiting, dizziness and weakness, muscle twitching, aphonia, pleuretic chest pain and convulsions, hypotension, depressed corneal reflexes and fixated diagonal pupils, headaches, difficulty breathing, paralysis, respiratory paralysis and asphyxiation.

A dramatic poison is strychnine. This one isn’t as toxic but I enjoy the style of it. It’s actually fairly common and is found in many pesticides, all those google searches for “Strychnine for sale” aren’t by psychopaths by probably by people needing pest control. Probably.

You can ingest it, inhale it, or have it injected.

It is a white, odorless, colorless powder. (Some say it tastes bitter)

It kills through dramatic and excruciating muscle spasms that continue until your body dies from exhaustion and you also can’t breathe anymore

Initially, a victim might just seem excitable (though they would also be in pain)

Symptoms occur after 15-60 minutes

Symptoms include: Agitation, apprehension or fear, ability to be easily startled, restlessness, painful muscle spasms possibly leading to fever and to kidney and liver injury, uncontrollable arching of the neck and back, rigid arms and legs, jaw tightness, muscle pain and soreness, difficulty breathing, dark urine, initial consciousness and awareness of symptoms, respiratory failure (inability to breathe), possibly leading to death, brain death, shortness of breath, unbearable feelings of anxiety, restlessness, twitching and spasms gradually develop and lead to violent tetanic seizures in which the head is bent right back to the buttocks, so that the spine may be broken. Breathing may cease for intervals of one to two minutes at a time; in this event the seizures may also stop, only to recommence at the least excitation - a loud noise or a gentle touch - until death from exhaustion finally supervenes.

There is no known antidote

If a victim survives past 24 hours, recovery is likely

Want to poison by making them eat it? Feed them amatoxin. It is found most commonly in Death Cap Mushrooms, which look like other mushrooms so cook up something tasty and kill a whole dinner party.

Apparently it tastes very good

I believe it must be ingested

It remains toxic whether raw or cooked

After 6-12 hours nausea, abdominal cramps, profuse watery diarrhea, and signs of dehydration show up

After that, the victim seems to recover but their liver will continue fail

Death occurs after 3-7 days although death may occur within the first 24 hours from massive fluid loss.

Symptoms include: espiratory tract, headache, dizziness, nausea, shortness of breath, coughing, insomnia, diarrhea, gastrointestinal disturbances, back pain, urinary frequency, liver and kidney damage, or death if ingested or inhaled

Symptoms potentially include: irritation, burns, redness, severe pain, and could be absorbed through the skin, irritation, corneal burns, and eye damage if absorbed via eyes.

Besides liver transplants and some penicillins, there are little treatments or antidotes.

I read somewhere that victims often slip into a coma and die, but I can’t find the source so that’s debatable. This is the internet after all.

You could go for some significance, foreshadowing, or easter eggs by using Hemlock. It was famously used by Socrates as his death penalty.

Drinking it’s tea can make you feel initially drunk

Ingestion is the most common and effective way to suffer but prolonged contact can also lead to poisoning.

Some mythology says that the plant didn’t turn toxic until after the blood of Jesus fell on it after his crucifixion

Poisons last on the plant even up to three years after death

Goats seem unaffected

Symptoms show up as quickly as 30 minutes after exposure

Symptoms include:trembling, burning in the digestive tract, increased salivation, dilated pupils, muscle pain, muscle weakness or muscle paralysis, rapid heart rate followed by a decreased heart rate, loss of speech, convulsions, unconsciousness or coma, central nervous system depression, respiratory failure, acute rhabdomyolysis, or breakdown of damaged skeletal muscle, acute renal failure, death, seizures, rapid heart rate, frothing at the mouth, and respiratory distress, nervous trembling, salivation, lack of coordination, rapid, weak pulse, respiratory paralysis, occasionally bloody feces and gastrointestinal irritation

Death occurs 48-72 after 48-72

There is no antidote although doctors will likely try to assist in breathing, secure your airway, and remove the hemlock from your digestion track,

I hope that was helpful! I would recommend doing further research on your poison of choice to really get the details right but make sure not to bog down your writing with too much explanation, most people far prefer angst to hyper-accuracy.

If you would like, I would love to be tagged when you finish your work! I’m always on the lookout for new fan fiction and whump 👀

Good luck with your writing!

#whump prompts #writing prompts #writing reference #writing resources #friendly-neighborhood-ash #poison #brief religion mention #heartless answers

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mental-health-advice · 5 years

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Please tag this as #Winter. Thank you! So school is starting for me in a week & I'm terrified. I know my anxiety and depression are going to be worse once school starts & I'm afraid that I'll start self harming again. I'm 103 days clean & I really don't want to destroy that. It's just awful. A part of me still misses it. It would just be so easy to hide it when it gets cold with long sleeves & such. Or maybe I'll bruise myself. I once did that when I had a breakdown. People will think I tripped.

Hello#Winter,

I feel you! Istart school today and I’m a little scared as well! My anxiety always kicks inbefore school and gets quite stressful. I hope that since you’ve sent this in,your school year went/is going well and that you have stayed clean! I can’teven begin to express how rewarding it is to be clean of self-harm and thoseintrusive thoughts!

School is amajor stressor for many teens/young adults. Whether the problem is social life,grades, pressure, etc. you can’t seem to escape it, but luckily there is a wayto push back these negative feelings and have an awesome school year! Know thatyou can make it a great year by keeping your head up, focusing on the thingsthat matter and sticking with your friends!

Staying cleanfrom self-harm is so rewarding. You can read here aboutreasons not to harm anymore. However, I will list a few of my favorite for you:

Because you do not deserve to be hurt, not by anyone, noteven yourself.

Because you deserve the same compassion, kindness, and lovethat everyone else does, and that you would give to a friend.

Because if you hurt yourself, you are repeating andreinforcing what your abusers or people who put you down told you, and none ofthat is true.

103 days clean is so awesome! In October, I will be 2 years clean. That makes me so happy thatyou’re wanting to continue this streak! It is normal to feel as if you miss this behaviorbut realize that you are stronger than these urges and that you can overcomeanything! Don’t let long sleeves be an excuse to start harming again, there isnot any reason you should have to inflict this pain upon yourself any longer. Yourwellbeing is sooo important! If you are struggling with covering your scars, wehave a resource page for that here. Bruisingyourself isn’t helpful either. It is the equivalent to self-harming and willsend your anxious thoughts into a downward spiral. I want you to stay on thetrack to recovery!

Whenever youfeel the urge to self-harm, try these things:

Find a softfelt marker, or some paint (acrylic) and draw anywhere that you want to harm.Draw patterns, swirls, anything that brings you joy! Use bright colors likeyellow, pink, sky blue to promote happiness and calm states of mind.

Squeeze anice cube. Doing this can help you release everything that your feeling in anon-violent manner.

Pleaserealize that by substituting self-harm with these safe alternatives, you arenot eliminating the self-destructive behavior but rather putting it in adifferent package, if you know what I mean? Motivate yourself to put an end tothis behavior, and you will see some life changes take place! Feel free to takea look at our resource page for alternatives to self-harm here.

You are soloved, ok? Please focus on yourself and recovering. You are much stronger thanyou think. I’ll be thinking about you!

“There isno precision measurement for pain. You don’t have to reach a scale or number tobe worthy of help or love. “

With love,Autumn

#mhaautumn #mental health advice #mental health blog #mental health #mental health awareness #school #self harm #long sleeves #anxiety #depression #bruises

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virgofabreakdown · 6 years

Text

Prologue - Double Lives AU

Next Chapter

Happily Ever Afters Make the Best Once Upon a Times

Logan's POV

Bride's Room 1:30 PM

Where was he? He said he was going to be slightly later than planned, but three hours is pushing it. The procession starts at approximately 2:45 this afternoon. We only had about an hour left before we needed to head to the chapel.

He insisted on keeping it a surprise for his soon-to-be brother-in-law. Being as dramatic as he is, he was so preoccupied as to keep this creation of his a secret from everyone, he had forgotten to collect it from his work place. If he misses his own brother's wedding, I will arrest him. I really will. I will personally beat him to a pulp and arrest him.

To anyone who would walk into this mess of a wedding, I would understand their automatic confusion. This place was a disaster. The flowers were spread across the small building we had rented out. After an incident involving the flower delivery guy and a cater, flowers and breadcrumbs both littered the floor.

I'm currently waiting for my husband to arrive at his future brother-in-law's changing room with an outfit he designed for the 'bride', who happened to be on the verge of a panic attack.

"Logan, where is Roman?" The bride-to-be asked. I've been dreading this question. Friends or not, it was hard to calm this man. Once he gets an idea in his mind, no matter how ridiculous, it's nearly impossible to get it out.

"He said he'd be right back," I squat down to his level and place my hand on his shoulder, as to offer comfort to him. "He'll be here any minute."

"That was, like, six hours ago. What if he got lost? Or got hurt?" He argued. With every new theory, his usual perky demeanor gave way to a much more panicked look of worry. "Or - oh god, what if he ditched us?! What if I said something to offend him and he hates me now? What if he took Virgil and ran? I might never see him again! I need to see Virgil! Logan, where's Virgil?!"

He sat on the floor, clearly over analyzing the situation. Odds are Roman was either busy doing a last minute fix on his mystery outfit and lost track of time, or was quelling his brother's last minute anxiety.

"First of all, it's only been three hours. Second of all, you need to calm yourself," I say, looking for anyway to put his mind at ease.

"I'm fine, Logan, really."

"Falsehood," I sighed. "Patton, I have to stop you right there. In my opinion, it sounds to me like you are in a state of inference observation confusion."

Patton faltered. "W-what now?"

The Chapel 2:50 PM

"My apologies, allow me to rephrase. You appear to be jumping to conclusions. There is a multitude of possibilities as to why he has not come back, especially when we don't know how long it takes to get to Roman's work, there could be traffic downtown, or he could be calming down a rather anxious Virgil."

"Virgil? Why would Virg be anxious?"

"Well, think about it. Virgil is a habitual worrier."

"That's right," Patton chuckled, as he wiped away a tear. "He is a Taurus."

"Exactly. Now come on, just because Roman's outfit isn't here doesn't mean everything else isn't. So, how do you want to do your hair?"

Virgil's POV

The Chapel 2:50 PM

I have been standing here for ten minutes. All of the bridesmaids and groomsmen were here, as was the clergy. My best man and the maid of honor were both missing. I thought standing up here alone for the original five minutes was gonna suck. These unplanned minutes were even more agonizing than the planned ones.

Everyone was watching. It was deadly silent. No one moved.

"Woo, Virgil! You got this!" Someone in the crowd shouted. I felt my face go red. Was that...? Yeah that was Sloane. Naturally.

"Sloane, leave my nephew alone!" Another voice shouted.

"Ah come on, live a little Aunt Patty!" Sloane shouted back. Oh boy, isn't this fun?

Suddenly, the music picked back up. Roman jogged into the room and tripped on a small step, landing face first.

"Ah, Дерьмо!"

Logan walked into view, with a noticeably anxious Patton clinging to his arm. As they were walking, Patton's eyes meet mine. He appeared to brighten upon seeing me and gave me a small wave.

Patton was...stunning. He wore a dress/suit sort of fusion, I guess? The outfit seemed to be modeled after Garnet's wedding outfit. I am unsurprised that he made a cartoon themed wedding outfit for him. It being by Roman, had many alterations. The skirt had been made longer to act as a train. The gloves were shorter than in the original cartoon, only going to about the elbows. On his head, Patton wore a pair of cat ears that matched his sandy brown hair. Well, I should've guessed he'd do something like that. This is Patton.

They reached the alter and Logan extracted Patton from his arm. Patton's face went red for a moment before pulling Logan into a big hug. He then pulled away and turned to me.

"Hey!" He said looking at me, eyes full of nervous excitement.

"Hi," I chuckle.

"This is real, right? I'm not dreaming again?"

"This is real, Pat," I assured.

"Good," he breathed a sigh of relief as we both stare at each other.

The minister cleared his throat, "may I begin?"

We both go red. I'm almost positive Patton is just as embarrassed as I am, if not more. I go to speak, but Roman beat me to it.

"Nice going, Emile. You ruined the moment," Roman said, causing the entire room to laugh.

"Dearly beloved..."

Patton's POV

Event room 9:30 PM

"I toast to the groom~" Roman sang.

Corbin, Sloane, and Elliot joined into the spontaneous singing, "to the groom, to the groom, to the groom."

Everyone was many, many drinks in and singing along to various songs from various shows. I even had fun singing some Disney songs with Roman and danced a song or two with Logan.

Despite the day's rocky start, everything was perfect. Standing over by the bar, I could see Roman and Logan dancing along to Shake It Off on the dance floor. They looked so happy. The song faded out and was replaced with All Of Me.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around me. "Hey."

"Hey," I reply.

"May I have this dance?"

"Always."

Virgil took my hand and led me too the dance floor. We danced together, swaying to the rhythm.

"So I heard your day was a train wreck," he says, looking me in the eye.

"Just a bit," I admit, not wanting to go into detail.

"So, Mr. Black-Berry, what happens now?"

"I don't know," I look up at him. "What does happen now?"

"Well, it was pretty awful today wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but it got better as it went on."

"Exactly. This proof that even everything goes wrong, we can and will pull through. So I say we just go with it and see what life throws at us. How does that sound, Mr. Black-Berry?"

"That sounds perfect, Mr. Black-Berry."

End of Prologue.

Дерьмо - sh*t

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