here’s chapter two! this is dedicated to @stardustsroses , happy (late) birthday my love!! <3
masterlist | ao3 | part 1
tags: @staticpetrichor @stardustsroses @nalgenewhore @illyrianbeauty @mariamuses @nomattertheoceans @vivorsomething @b00kworm @maastrash @lost-in-fictionn @acourtofabsandillyrians @ladywitchling
***
Cassia.
Her named suited her. Soft. Ethereal.
Awkwardly, Manon extended her hand in an offer to help her up from her cowered position. Cassia’s stare immediately glued to the razor sharp nails curving wickedly from her pale fingers.
“I won’t hurt you,” she repeated again, cursing the touch of shame that sent a pang down to her very core. Since when did she feel bad about her terrifying exterior?
Cassia visibly swallowed, nodding hesitantly before accepting Manon’s hand, her body so light Manon barely had to exert any energy pulling her up.
“Um, I-” she stammered, timidly meeting her gaze. “Thank you for not killing me.”
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nightmare prompt for tangfei pretty please 🥺
Person A can tell that Person B is having a nightmare because they’re making weird noises/motions in their sleep so Person A wakes them up and asks if they’re okay
---
Of the both of them, they have long established that Tang Yi is the one who has nightmares. It’s almost counter-intuitive, considering that Shao Fei is the one dealing with violence and blood and crime day in, day out. In comparison, Tang Yi is now living life as a retired gang member and all he does is golf, work, have work dinners, and then spend time with Shao Fei, the days of fights and drugs well behind him.
Well, logically, it is supposed to be behind him, but Tang Yi wakes up in the middle of the night often, the coppery tang of blood filling his nostrils as he gasps for air, his hand reaching out for a figure who’s about to be shot to death, multiple hands grabbing at him in the dark, trying to ambush him while he’s asleep... many more.
When that happens, it’s always Shao Fei waiting with a hand caressing at his forehead as he comes back to himself. Shao Fei bringing him back to reality with his lips and his touch, his sweet murmurings.
So Tang Yi is a little surprised when he wakes up in the middle of the night this time, and it’s Shao Fei who’s fidgeting in bed and mumbling under his breath while asleep. Frowning, Tang Yi reaches over to the bedside and switches the lamp on, and-
Sweat beads at Shao Fei’s forehead and his face is incredibly pale; Tang Yi barely dodges when hands suddenly shoot out to swipe at him, and it is only reflex and practice from back in his gangster days that has Tang Yi catching both arms in his hold gently, afraid that Shao Fei is going to hurt himself like this.
On closer look, Shao Fei’s bottom lip is bleeding from where his teeth are biting down onto flesh in his nightmare, and Tang Yi startles yet again.
“Baobei,” he murmurs immediately, pulling Shao Fei into a sitting position and holding onto him, not too tightly, but with just enough force to keep him from flailing. “Baobei, you’re having a nightmare, wake up.”
He realizes the moment Shao Fei comes awake, because the body in his embrace goes ramrod straight with a shudder. Tang Yi waits patiently but keeps up with his soft litany of murmurings and kisses to his temple.
“... Tang,” Shao Fei croaks, his voice hoarse as he shakes, “Tang Yi...”
“You okay?” Tang Yi asks, pulling him closer now that he’s awake, “Baobei, it was just a dream. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Tang Yi,” Shao Fei repeats, burying his face into his husband’s shoulder.
Tang Yi doesn’t ask. When Shao Fei stops shaking, he moves to get out of bed, and when Shao Fei refuses to let him go, Tang Yi lifts him out from under the covers as well.
Standing obediently as Tang Yi undresses him and drying his sweat with a clean towel, Shao Fei feels a lot like a doll. His brain is all mush and refuses to string two coherent thoughts together, and all he wants is Tang Yi. They don’t speak much as Tang Yi pulls a clean shirt over his head, and then directs him back to bed.
He lets Shao Fei curl right against him, and his hold is much tighter than usual, but Tang Yi doesn’t mind.
They’ll talk about Shao Fei’s nightmare tomorrow morning, when the terror of the night no longer haunts him.
For now, he guards Shao Fei’s sleep and smiles a little when Shao Fei’s breaths even out against his neck.
do i need to say more
I love my wall decor ~🥺🖤
"Oh, Geralt, I think it's broken!" Jaskier wailed from where he was sat in the mud.
Scowling, Geralt bent to inspect the ankle in question, the one Jaskier had turned when he slipped on the wet ground. He poked at it and Jaskier moaned.
He rolled his eyes. "It's not broken," he said gruffly. "Just twisted. You'll have to keep your weight off it."
Jaskier's face scrunched up in distress. "Then whatever am I to do?" He waved his arms in the air with great dramatic intent. "For I am all alone in the wilderness, miles from civilization, and now incapable of walking." He wound himself up into a full performance. "The wolves will come for me and I shall surely die here!"
Geralt suppressed a smile. "I'm sure we can figure something out."
He pondered Jaskier with mock contemplation while Jaskier gave him soft, pleading eyes. He threw in a little lip tremble for full effect.
"Fine," he grunted eventually. "If we must." He scooped Jaskier up into his arms in a bridal carry and lifted him into the air.
Jaskier squealed with delight and threw his arms around Geralt's neck. "My hero," he declared, dropping a kiss onto his cheek.
The bard really was an idiot. He tucked him into his chest and fought back a blush.
This blog is dedicated to collecting receipts of Ableism and ableistic users.
I am not here to start or engage in discourse, just collect receipts of Ableism that I see.
If you see an ableistic post, note, thread or user, just @me on the ableistic thing you want me to look at and I will look into it.
The ask box and submissions are open. Submissions are for screenshots of Ableism, the ask box is primarily open for suggestions of ableistic users to look at.
Some things to keep in mind:
The owner of this blog is mentally ill and mentally disabled in multiple ways.
They are also a minor.
This is a side blog and not my main.
I always tell myself I’m going to write the idea down and that’s even assuming I remember I had an idea lol…
a bitter story exploring loss, trauma and healing gone wrong.
GENRE: literary fiction.
POV + TENSE: first-person referral, retrospective.
SETTING: a fictional commune, unspecified time period.
TONE: bitter, sharp, resentful, lonely.
STAGE: completed first draft, 2769 words.
LOGLINE: years after her childhood and its horrors, angry, resentful emily writes a letter to her dead sister— the one whom she sees as the cause of her trauma— in an attempt to come to terms with how horribly wrong her life is now.
LITERAL LOGLINE: when you decide to scream into the void as a substitute for therapy except surprise! it doesn’t help.
our first-person, extremely unhinged narrator. she’s a very bitter woman and is someone with nothing to live for, the way she sees it. a lot of her apathy + the disarrayed state of her life and mind was a direct cause of her childhood trauma and the unhealthy coping mechanisms that followed said trauma. she’s perpetually angry at her younger self and is overly conflicted towards her feelings towards her family, mainly her sister.
emily’s older sister. she was a role model for her when they were kids, and emily used to worship her. she was a loving and emotional person, and was very reckless— and rebellious— with a streak of massive unchecked anger [directed mostly at her father]. emily doesn’t recall much about her anymore, due to how young she’d been when lilee had died.
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