#trigger: death

Prompt: Ba Sing Se

Summary: In the wake of the collapse of Ba Sing Se, Katara seeks the help of an old friend. Or: Zuko and Katara reconnect late in their lives.

R.I.P. Nichelle

as for the other, they haven't seen the real side of reality. happiness is mostly an illusion that hides the suffering everyone has gone through. but if they haven't felt pain already, i'll be the one to show them pain through the knife.

seeing the smile fade away from someone and eventually the emotion from them is a fascinating feeling.

There is no such thing as natural 100% natural immunity to types and status ailments (abilities that prevent certain stats from lowering are the exception). So to gain those immunities, pokemon need to train to build up the resistance so it has no effect.

Send ♦ for drabble of my muse dying in your muse's arms.

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Lance had a bad feeling through the mission but didn't really think twice. You always had bad feelings when you're fighting in a space war, after all. Although Lance ended up learning way too late that he should have questioned it.

The mission had been bumpy, but it wasn't too out of the usual. Until Lance got separated from the others and found himself on a wooden bridge up in the air, trapped from both ways with Galra closing in and fast. He could jump, but he was way too high to make it with just an injury at minimum. Gritting his teeth, he continued to fight back as he tried to stall for help from the others.

When the others finally came into view, he let himself stay hopeful for the moment.. Until he felt it. One of the Galra were able to come up behind him, their weapon slicing through Lance's abdomen once he turned around. An arm shot to hold the wound, which had he been any closer could have been a clean cut through him completely. Luckily, the suit kept things from being as painful to see as it would've been. Lance tried to keep fighting back, unable to hold his weapon before one of the Galra pushed him off, the Cuban falling towards the ground quickly albeit motionless.

↳ self para to start the murderhouse plot with @wretchedwendigo​

triggers: death / murder 

Moving in to the four-bedroom house seemed like a no brainer for Nikki, when her friends had brought up the idea. They’d all been friends for so long, and the split rent was so low they knew they couldn’t pass up on an opportunity like this, even if it meant some people had to share rooms or make do with smaller spaces. It was just... too good not to try, and what was better than sharing a house with all of the people she loved most, anyways? It’d taken little time to get used to the house. Disregarding that the previous owners had died there, the young adults had brought new life and color to their humble abode. 

It was a day like any other, your standard Wednesday. All of her friends had made their way out for either work, or errands, and Nikki had the place to herself. This wasn’t uncommon, and some days, she even welcomed it. She liked having alone time, to dwell in her art books or pick up a novel to read without interruption from one of Roman’s roaring videogames or Cricket’s loud pop music. She was cozied up on the couch, when she heard a noise, shuffling feet in the other room, before a closing door. This left her curious, knowing that the only door in that direction belonged to the basement, where she roomed with Finnick. “Finn?” She called out, certain she was home alone. Marking her page before placing her “book of the day” to the side, she pushed to her feet, when she didn’t hear a response, making her way towards her room. 

“Finn, you home?” She called out once more, this time at the top of the staircase leading into the dark basement. She’d never been afraid of the lower level, careless of the overhead pipes and the old toolsets they hadn’t bothered moving when they’d claimed it as an extra bedroom. But, something just felt wrong as she peered down at the room, noting that the lights were still off, and nobody was answering. “Guess not,” She commented to herself, turning to close the door, but just as she did this, she heard a noise behind her, encouraging her to flip the light switch and make her way down to where her bed and belongings were, one step at a time. 

She was quiet now, uncertain as to what was waiting at the bottom of the staircase, but as her bare feet met the concrete floor, she froze, realizing all too quickly that she wasn’t alone. Contemplating her options, she studied the set of eyes in the corner of the room, before turning quickly and racing back up the stairs, yelling for anyone who might hear her. But, her friends weren’t home, and before she had made it to the top, a hand had grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling with such force that she tumbled down the stairs, hitting her head hard against the cement floor -- where her friends would find her later that day. Dead.

Let’s go deep. WARNING: Might not like what ya read here. 1. I have (All medically diagnosed)

borderline personality disorder

depression

general anxiety disorder

post-traumatic stress disorder

obsessive-compulsive disorder

attention deficit hyperactive disorder

2. My mum died without warning in 2009 and my dad died in hospice in 2018. And I miss them every day.

3. I was pregnant with my last child, a son in 2011. I was 2 weeks away from him being born. I woke up one day to him not moving. He died in utero due to the nuchal cord twisting, kinking, and killing him. They refused to give me a C-section, I had to give birth to him naturally. It was pure torture and anguish.

4. In  April 2017 I had a pulmonary embolism that almost killed me. Was in ICU a week. Horse sized needle-like injections of warfarin for another week in my stomach.

5. In December 2017 right before Xmas, I suffered a subdural hematoma (brain bleed and brain swelling) that again, almost killed me. I had a 10% chance of survival. Coded 2 times. Was almost put in a medically induced coma. Had brain surgery to fix the issue, I had to have it again in February to continue the removal of fluid off my brain. I now suffer from bad memory, poor coordination, etc. AND I HATE IT!!!!

Bonus! My son’s birth father was murdered in 2016, separated from my spouse shortly after my embolism. Single mum, making it on my own with a great son and friends at my side.