esclizku

[esclizku]

hi I wrote a lot more of that one wip + did some light editing so here you go. tws/cws: are a lot of death + murder talk and a little body horror. Also @flynncorvus waves I forgot to tag you last time it isn't sawyer related but it is still our writing so I assume you're interested

It was laughably easy to get people to do strange things when they trusted you. Adrian had learned this from experience.

Cilan was not an exception to this rule. From what Adrian had found out about him, he probably considered himself better than that. But he was malleable, more than he thought himself to be. After all, he did trust Adrian enough to listen to his strange instructions that night.

This would be the mistake to end him in the most literal sense of the phrase.

The instructions were more like requests, wrapped up in smooth, sugary wording and mannerisms to convince and deceive. On paper, it sounded nice: a romantic night with his beloved partner in their favorite spot, which happened to be a large creek deep in a forest, buried far away from any others. They would be together the entire time, meeting first at Adrian's place to spend a little time together before venturing out. All of that sappy stuff that held no actual weight in their mind, but for Cilan it was everything he could've wanted, and, hey, it wasn't their fault he'd been so obvious with his desires.

It also so happened that along with their lips, a pretty little knife would kiss him that night. Or maybe their teeth. They hadn't decided yet, the surprise was part of it. A gentle, heartfelt goodbye to this vessel. They'd yearned for that kind of release, and known that they would never get it. The least they could do for their supposed lover was pass on that desire, experience it vicariously through him. Though, their victims had never seemed to appreciate the effort in their final moments. Maybe this one would, because he was different.

Cilan had genuinely interested them for once. For all of their lies upon lies, the persona they used around him was strikingly similar to their true one, and a few facts about themself were slipped casually into conversations here and there. They were getting too attached. Too comfortable. That, and their body was rotting itself to the point of them being in constant pain and increasing frailty. They couldn't stand to hold out any longer, and they had to get rid of their.. attachment. Which is why they had to do this tonight. A beautiful, misty spring evening, waiting to be brightened by blood on the soil. Not that anyone besides them and their beloved corpse-to-be would see it, but the intimacy would make that sight all the more precious. They may even bring their camera, put the photo in a nice, lightly bloodied frame. That would bring unnecessary suspicion to them, but they almost wanted to get caught just once to see how far they could go. If death would greet them at the end of that path. If death would greet them at all. All of that thinking was distracting them.

The two's footsteps sounded quietly through the woods, the shrill song of cicadas and other wildlife overshadowing them. They walked hand in hand, settling into a peaceful lack of conversation, the only substance being occasional glances or hand squeezes. This wasn't the type of affection they usually targeted, though blissfully unaware Cilan clearly basked in it. It wouldn't hurt to indulge him a little before his demise, and they didn't mind much. They were wearing gloves, anyway. They always did.

A small breeze brushed over their bodies as they approached the creek, wet ground squelching underneath their shoes while they did so. They sat on a larger rock and patted the spot next to them, gesturing for Cilan to sit. He followed suit, still keeping their hands entwined.

"D'you like it?" They asked, turning their head towards him a bit, a smile plastered on their face.

He nods, pausing before he responds, a habit of his. His voice is peaceful yet sleepy. "It's.. nice. I'm glad we came here." His head leans on Adrian's shoulder and they make their smile deepen. Cilan seems tired, more than usual, and he wouldn't know why. Adrian would, considering they're causing it. They're keeping tabs to make sure that he doesn't pass out. If he were unconscious it would ruin the whole thing.

"So am I. Thought you would appreciate it." The secluded nature makes this easier for me. The second sentence is somewhat true, since Cilan has always liked places like this, and it is part of the reason why they picked it. Those reasons and that it would make a beautiful picture if they did take one. They did bring that camera after all, and had taken a few photos on the way for show. None of them had the subject they were after.

Their conversation dies as soon as it’s begun, with neither of them being desperate enough in the silence to revive it. The background noise seems more small than the oppressive sound that fills it, likely because Adrian’s focus was entirely on the body next to them. They could hear his heart beating, steady and regular, and watched his chest rise and fall. Actions that after tonight, they wouldn’t be able to observe. Things that were always taken for granted, simple motions that brought life into a being. It was always fascinating, watching it all slow and eventually stop. The ensuing feeling was something outside of everyday living, something entirely other. It was their favorite part, the aftershocks of the adrenaline, watching the life bleed out of someone, and then, the finale, the disturbing, absolute calm that fell over everything, blanketing and blocking out all else. It was the only time they felt at ease, knowing they could live longer and that their goal that took so much time to get to had been achieved. They thought it beautiful. Their subjects found it horrifying.

Their gaze shifts away from Cilan’s vitals to his eyes. He seems in his own head, away from the environment and secluded into his mind. He was a mystery like that, Adrian could never guess what he was thinking in the moments between the sound and stillness. They wanted to pry him open and watch the thoughts flow out so they could finally see all of it with their own eyes. They were good at getting things out of people, but the one that was here, had gotten closest to them out of all the rest, was the one they couldn’t entirely figure out. The missing pieces were there, and they could see them, but they were just outside of their reach, not entirely discernable. They desired to know him in his entirety like it was a necessity. He had sharp edges, and they could see the glint of them, piercing through his facade. Sometimes he let them show, in all of their shattered sharpness, and that was when Adrian loved him most. And today, that lover would be buried, and they would be the one holding the shovel. The one caressing him with something vicious. His very own passage to the afterlife, his executioner, his in every devastating sense of it. They were getting impatient, waiting for the correct moment to start was essential, but they almost couldn’t restrain themself. If they took too long, they may.. Linger, and miss the chance. Cilan can’t walk away alive. He has to answer for the sin of becoming dear to a murderer and a people eater, and that retribution had to be death. It wasn’t entirely his fault. He was easy, and they were interested by his concealed parts. He had practically asked for it, holding them close like he did. Their jagged pieces were destined to collide at some point in a beautiful mess of shattered glass and viscera, glittering and terrible and lovely all at once.

They had unspoken agreement between each other to act normal when they were together. Adrian liked to think that he was aware of what lurked underneath, that Cilan observed and saw the glimpses of their true self that shone through the facade. They had seen his, picked them apart and pieced together what they could see, and the devotion had kept them attached. In certain moments, when the two of them were impossibly close, as if their flesh would rip apart and stitch together, attaching them into one thing, they were always less careful. They noticed the same in Cilan, who allowed his outer shell to drop in those periods. All they wanted was to crush it in their hands and hold the gory contents, but for the sake of their motive, it was one of the only things they couldn’t have. They pondered about it often, if he knew what they were in a situation where death didn’t lurk behind it, what he would do. That was something else they would never pry out of him. So many secrets they would never touch. Answers they yearned for instinctually, as if it was as simple as eating or breathing. It hurt without it in the same way. The unknown was an empty space in them, something that needed to be filled, an obsession that thrummed in the instants between everything else.

They were getting sick of drowning in the silence. Despite usually being a very patient person, they felt the eagerness buzzing in them. They could pass it off as something else, but they knew that no questions about it would come up. Cilan rarely questioned them about things, even if they could see how badly he wanted to know. Whenever he was trying to find something out, his expression and stature took on a completely different feeling. For all of his terrible sleep, when he was interested, he looked like the most energetic person Adrian had ever met. It was like light pierced through his being, and they couldn’t help but stare at it as it burned their eyes like he was the sun and they were nothing but an onlooker.

They allow the forest to exhale, for the environment to bask in its last moment of peace, before they turn their head to Cilan entirely, their gaze set at his eyes this time. It takes him an insignificant amount of time to meet them there. He doesn’t say anything, allowing them to take the lead in the conversation. He was usually able to read them unless they shoved their true expression beneath an easy smile (but even then, rarely they could tell that he saw through that), so he could tell that they wanted to say something. Their smile shifts into a subtle, casual version of their usual as they tip their head down and shift to rest their forehead on his. They felt the temperature contrast of the crisp air wrapped around them and a person against them.

“I think we’ve done enough of nothing, don’t you?” They ask, ignoring that he was clearly in deep thought. So were they, though he didn’t need to know that. Their voice is softer with a slight teasing edge to it. It almost falters with the weight of their notions beneath it, but it sounds convincing enough.

Cilan laughs, turning his head in their direction as well. “What else do we do, then?” He mirrors their tone and their smile. They pause like they’re thinking about it, averting their eyes briefly before returning to words. “I have an idea.” The smile on their face changes to something a touch more mischievous that suggests something different. He falls for it completely, as he usually does. If he were smarter, they never would have met. It wasn’t their fault.

They stand, holding up their dearest’s hand to lead him. The knife, small and fatally sharp, weighs in their pocket. It was one of their favorites. They might not even use it, but it was nice to have anyway.

[esclizku]

I don't like it much but I have to publish something if I want to be known here :/

[esclizku]

10 Non-Lethal Injuries to Add Pain to Your Writing

New Part: 10 Lethal Injury Ideas

If you need a simple way to make your characters feel pain, here are some ideas: 

1. Sprained Ankle

A common injury that can severely limit mobility. This is useful because your characters will have to experience a mild struggle and adapt their plans to their new lack of mobiliy. Perfect to add tension to a chase scene.

2. Rib Contusion

A painful bruise on the ribs can make breathing difficult, helping you sneak in those ragged wheezes during a fight scene. Could also be used for something sport-related! It's impactful enough to leave a lingering pain but not enough to hinder their overall movement.

3. Concussions

This common brain injury can lead to confusion, dizziness, and mood swings, affecting a character’s judgment heavily. It can also cause mild amnesia.

I enjoy using concussions when you need another character to subtly take over the fight/scene, it's an easy way to switch POVs. You could also use it if you need a 'cute' recovery moment with A and B.

4. Fractured Finger

A broken finger can complicate tasks that require fine motor skills. This would be perfect for characters like artists, writers, etc. Or, a fighter who brushes it off as nothing till they try to throw a punch and are hit with pain.

5. Road Rash

Road rash is an abrasion caused by friction. Aka scraping skin. The raw, painful sting resulting from a fall can be a quick but effective way to add pain to your writing. Tip: it's great if you need a mild injury for a child.

6. Shoulder Dislocation

This injury can be excruciating and often leads to an inability to use one arm, forcing characters to confront their limitations while adding urgency to their situation. Good for torture scenes.

7. Deep Laceration

A deep laceration is a cut that requires stitches. As someone who got stitches as a kid, they really aren't that bad! A 2-3 inch wound (in length) provides just enough pain and blood to add that dramatic flair to your writing while not severely deterring your character.

This is also a great wound to look back on since it often scars. Note: the deeper and wider the cut the worse your character's condition. Don't give them a 5 inch deep gash and call that mild.

8. Burns

Whether from fire, chemicals, or hot surfaces, burns can cause intense suffering and lingering trauma. Like the previous injury, the lasting physical and emotional trauma of a burn is a great wound for characters to look back on.

If you want to explore writing burns, read here.

9. Pulled Muscle

This can create ongoing pain and restrict movement, offering a window to force your character to lean on another. Note: I personally use muscle related injuries when I want to focus more on the pain and sprains to focus on a lack of mobility.

10. Tendonitis

Inflammation of a tendon can cause chronic pain and limit a character's ability to perform tasks they usually take for granted. When exploring tendonitis make sure you research well as this can easily turn into a more severe injury.

This is a quick, brief list of ideas to provide writers inspiration. Since it is a shorter blog, I have not covered the injuries in detail. This is inspiration, not a thorough guide. Happy writing! :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[esclizku]

no... no, i think i won't like this actually...

[esclizku]

Thank you, Johnny

🏷️ Mental Health Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Alternative AU: Teenagers, Pre-War

Call of Duty, Soap x Ghost Part of my Series, "CoD Ghost/Soap Teenager Shenanigans" Word Count: 5,645

freshly uploaded, go check out my ao3 for the full thing! divider by firefly-graphics

[This is a just snippet of the fanfiction, click on me to go to the full version.]

Yet, his muted and furrowed face loosened at one notification.

“Scot” was the contact name he gave that one insane year 10 transfer kid, the one who cussed like the sailor, the one who somehow managed to toss the usually uncooked cob of corn across the gigantic lunchroom without hitting anyone. And surprisingly, the one who really wanted to befriend him. The kid quiet in the corner, the kid who started wearing face coverings since year 8, the kid with bad grades, the kid who’s worst offense was accidentally skipping class, not because of a late bus, but because he fell asleep in the courtyard in a secluded area. That’s who the little troublemaker wanted to be friends with.

The message was simple, but it caught his eye, because it was fragile when he normally wasn’t. 

Let’s meet up, it’s Guy Fawkes Night. Miss you. 4:12 PM

Simon’s fingers slid onto the Emojis, then slid to GiF, sending him a stupid gif that he had saved of the Scottish Flag waving in the air. He chuckled to himself, and his eyes widened when he realized the Scot had immediately read the message as soon as he got it. Like an old grandpa, he sent the crying-laughing emoji, before actually answering. 

Picking you up in about two hours, send me your address. 5:45 PM

. 5:45 PM no, i don’t have time rn

I haven’t seen you in three weeks, just send me your address, damn brit. 5:46 PM

Had it really been so long?

Please. 5:50 PM

I even have a gift. 5:51 PM

[esclizku]

🔪 WIN A COPY OF ‘A KILLER CHAT! CHRISTMAS’! 🩷

“Merry f’ing Christmas, losers!”

To celebrate this holiday season, we are giving one lucky player a copy of our new festive addition to the Killer Chat! series, "A Killer Chat! Christmas"!

What do I win?

A digital copy of ‘A Killer Chat! Christmas’, which will be released on the 30th of December! More info written about the DLC here! 

What do I do?

FOLLOW our angelrot Twitter/X, Bluesky, Instagram, Tiktok and/or rosesrot’s tumblr.

LIKE and REPOST our social media posts about the competition.

Take a SCREENSHOT of your KC! Definitive Edition Wishlist on steam to help support future KC! content.

SUBMIT all necessary information in the giveaway form!

Deadline: 29th of December at 11:59pm GMT.

We will inform the winner before the game launch on 30th of December - if you haven’t heard by then you are safe to purchase the game!

Other important notes: 

You may enter on any number of social media platforms. Each social media post you complete the requirements for will gain you one individual entry (only one social media is required to enter).

We will be gifting the game to the winner directly through itch.io. You must have the permission of the account holder we are sending to beforehand.

If you have any questions please feel free to DM us on our social accounts or on our discord.

❄️ Happy Holidays everyone! ❄️

Support angelrot games!

Want to support Killer Chat!’s development plans further? Subscribe to me on patreon/kofi for exclusive and early access content or wishlist Killer Chat's Definitive Edition on Steam!

[esclizku]

he/they/it or third person.. 💭 call of duty, yume nikki, death note, dandadan, when they cry, madoka magica, delicious in dungeon, jjba, sweet tooth, deadpool, oumagadoki zoo, scp 🦴 on and off artist, cosplayer, fanfiction writer (click here), therian =^-^= into witchcraft

[esclizku]

The morning after

🏷️ Sick-fic, Sick x Caretaker, Fluff, Vanilla, Domestic, Established Relationship, semi-SFW

Call of Duty, Soap x Ghost short One-Shot Fan-fiction Word Count: 704

if you like this kinda stuff, go check out my ao3, wink wink divider by firefly-graphics

The morning after was always something he was looking forward to. Ghost was sweet all the time of course, there’s no doubt about that. But something about whenever they were passionate flipped a switch in Ghost, which Soap loved. The cold rough hands begged for the touch of his warm skin, tracing the soft patterns of the barely visible abs. Those dull, matte eyes made more contact with his ice-cold blue ones, and fuck. The way he treated him.

The mixer whirred to life, the ingredients inside flinging around the glass frame. Soap was a little bit winded from last night, his back ached, his legs trembling, but most of all, he wasn’t feeling like doing anything. The exhaustion that came from this age hit him all at once. He didn’t expect them to get to him at this age, especially since the military kept him active. Yet, despite being around 2 years apart, Ghost always woke up a little bit more energetic after sex, and that was evident even now.

Soap hissed when he felt his lover sneak up behind him, shoving the cold hands from winter into his warm jumper, cupping his abdomen. “You fuckin’ ass…-“ Was the sentence that got a warm chuckle out of the Brit, and he rested his stubble beard onto the veiny neck, muttering. “Why are you up this early?”

“Stomach’s growling since six in the morning.”

“You should’ve woken me up, Johnny.”

“So you can be hungry with me as well?”

“So I could make sure you’re okay.”

“Are you playing caretaker again, Simon?”

Soap looked over at Ghost with a warm gaze despite the cold blue in his eyes, one that was almost taunting. The Brit blinked softly, the wrinkles under his eyes becoming more prominent as he huffed a laugh out of his nose, almost scoff-like one, and muttered.

“You know me too good.” He grumbled, his hands warm at this point as he slid them out, turning off the blender. “Get back into bed.”

This is what he meant when he said a switch in Ghost flipped. When Ghost was bringing him the smoothie he had started along with an ice pack to his bed, where he laid somewhat sleepy. The way Ghost sat next to him, lifting the shirt and placing the ice pack onto his skin softly, onto the deep purple and red bruising Ghost’s teeth created, making Soap mutter swears and curses at him. And then the questions, Are you aching? Or Do you need something else?, it made Soap scoff almost when he insisted on making breakfast.

He cupped Ghost’s cheek, redirecting his gaze up into his eyes. “Darling, your sex is good, but it’s not ‘causing paralysis in both my legs’ good,” With a soft tone, he tilted his head. “Now stop worrying, or else your wee little head will fall off.”

Ghost was barely convinced, looking down at his body again. “You’ve been complaining about your back and legs a lot recently, I’m just looking out for you… If I made it worse…-“ He sounded a little worried, his eyes scanning him for any aches, like it was something that could be seen by the bare eye. “Bloody hell..”

Soap knew where this behavior was coming from, to be honest. Ghost, now that he’s older (well, if 38 even counts as old), has had his fair share of medical scares. First seeing the damage of his smoking, Second the diagnosis of his sleep disorder, and not to mention his scoliosis… It all mixed into making Ghost a healthier person, yes, but now he was also very aware of Soap’s health. Every ache could be a problem, every crack and every trip is treated with utmost care, and Soap didn’t mind it that much to be honest.

Just when he was worrying like this did it bother him.

Ghost opened to say something else, probably related to Soaps previously mentioned sleepiness, or how he was dizzy  a week prior, or something else entirely. Soap had no shame interrupting him with a kiss though, the chapped lips hitting Ghost’s delicate ones.

“Shut up,” Soap whispered into the kiss, their lips still soft and gently touching. “come lay with me.”

[esclizku]

[esclizku]

My masterpiece

Chilchuck by @/chiaragnak on IG

[esclizku]

"justice will prevail no matter what"

[esclizku]

[esclizku]

erm hi thats me

im a fanfiction writer and artist who makes fluff and angst n shit

my interest are call of duty, scp and right now also the purge for some fucking reason

part two in the works go check out the gays 😋‼️

Somehow I've managed to convince my friend @esclizku to write a Ghoap teen AU fanfic for me!? AND RILEY'S IN IT TOO

I am on my knees! Go read this awesome piece of work

(My friend will say I forced them to write it. Don't listen to that. It's propaganda.)