#fanfiction in gaidhlig

[wildflowergirlie]

I love being in a large fandom because on a whim I decided to see if there were any fics (like at all) in Scottish Gaelic (Gaidhlig), and the first one is a freaking wolfstar fic. like what are the odds?

[ghostmistdraws]

"Alright, let's do this one last time.."

[updated as of 02/10/24]

Hello! My name is Ghost (he/they + any neos) and this is my main tumblr blog! What do I do here? Well it's mostly just random and hyperfixation shit but I do post original art here! You can find any of my original posts under the tag #ghostsposts

I also write fanfiction over on my AO3 account! Go follow me here

What Fandoms you I engage with?

this changes often but as of now:

The Bad Batch

The Clone Wars

The Spiderverse movies (itsv and atsv)

Star Wars Rebels

Agents of SHIELD

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (book and musical)

The Glass Scientists

Arc of a Scythe

Percy Jackson + the Riordanverse

This is a Multifandom blog! (clearly) So chaos is warranted.

"Ghost! Do you have side blogs?"

Why yes good friend! Here are some relevant ones!

@the-crow-kid - side blog for cryptids, Gaidhlig, and punk subculture stuff

@ratbastardacademic - side blog for gothic literature, academia, mad science and general academic shittery

@sketchesfromghost - Art blog! Mostly shitty sketches.

+ more as I work on organizing my Tumblr account!

DNI if you're transphobic, homophobic, racist, ableist, or misogynistic PLEASE I do not want to deal with intolerance on any of my accounts.

Navigation

#ghostsposts <- original posts

#ghostshitposts <- self explanatory, filter this if you don't care to see my rambles

#ghost rambles <- same as above

I swear a lot to be warned.

~~~

Asks are always open! Come chat with me!

I hope to see you around here! Ghost out!

[your-royal-highness-of-trash]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

-My garden

-Reading (cod fanfiction)

-Zentangling (I love drawing spirals so much)

-Learning Gaidhlig

-My boyfriend :3

[ficseanspeisear]

Dè a tha sin?

"Dè a tha sin?" Thuirt Jason nuair a choisich e anns an uamh le Tim.

"E!" Thuirt Brus agus bha e ag obair air a' Choimpiutair na Dealtaige.

" Na faighich, a Jason " Rinn Tim diùrrais ri Jason.

Rol Jason a shùilean agus thuirt e a-rithist. "Dè a tha sin?"

Phiob Bruce a uasal. " A Jason, am bheil thu ceart gu leoir ? Seo an Coimpiutair na Dealtaige. Tha cuimhne agad an sin, nach 'eil ?"

"Chan eil mi a' bruidhinn mun choimpiutair. Tha fios agam an Coimpiutair na Dealtaige. Tha mi a' bruidhinn mu sin!" Thuirt Jason agus thomh e air a' bhòrd. Mhill e dùil.

" A Bheil thu a' bruidhinn mum bhòrd?" Dh' fhiosrachadh Bruce. Phiob Bruce a-rithist ach thuirt iad slaodach. Bha e tro chèile.

Chuir Tim a cheann na làmhan. Thuirt Tim ro a bha Jason a' bruidhinn a-rithist. "A Bhruce, bha e a' bruidhinn mu dheidhinn do chofaidh à Starbucks!"

"O-hò! Uill, 's e Luck of the Leprechaun a th'air agus bha e an cofaidh ùr aig Starbucks do Là Fhèill Pàdraig!" Thuirt Brus leis an snodha-gàire.

"Tha sin gràineil. Ciamar a tha thu ag òl sin?! Chan e cofaidh a th' ann, 's e usp a th' ann! Tha dùil agam nas fheàr riut" Thuirt Jason.

" Cha bu chòir dhuinn a bhi an dùil nas fheàrr ri sin à Bruce. Òlaidh Bruce a latte na Peaberry, leth-caifein agus leth-neo-caifein le bainne gun uachdar air smùid gu 145° ach chan eil e cus cobhar. Agus bha e leis aon dhrama na Butterscotch." Thug Tim cagar do Jason.

Agus fhreagair Bruce "Ach, ceannaich Dick an Luck of the Leprechaun dhomh. Agus an e math, mura h-eil e beagan milis."

Ghabh Jason conbhaig agus thilg Jason a làmhan an àirde san adhar. Thuirt e "Chuir thusa gairiseachadh orm."

Thionndaidh Jason air a shàilean agus choisich e a-muigh à Uamh na Dealtaige le dranndail.

Dh'òl Bruce a chofaidh agus rinn e snodha-gàire aig Tim.

Clapanaich Tim a cheann. Thug e an tablaid gun robh iad ag iarraidh. Agus choisich e a-muigh às an uamh cuideachd.

Dh'òl Bruce a chofaidh. Ach nuair a bha fios aig Bruce le làn-fhios gun do dh'fhalbh iad agus nach robh iad a' tilleadh a-rithist, thilg e an cofaidh a-muigh anns an t-soitheach-sgudail. Agus chaidh Bruce air ais a dh'obair.

[kalendraashtar]

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part VII)

Part VII – “You bleed just to know you’re alive”

Twenty-eight

Why do sirens cry in blue and red?

Are they calling for help, for the crushing urgency, the need to rob time of time itself? Or are they warning us to look away, to prepare ourselves because tragedy is upon us – we might as well be next?

Even after many years, I’d recall their grieving sound. The way my hands pressed upon Claire’s belly, blocking the exit of her life with my palms. The screams around me, senseless, enhancing my growing despair. How her eyes never left mine – daring me to stay with her, to keep death at bay.

The paramedics came. They could have taken from seconds to a lifetime to reach us – I wouldn’t be able to say. Time skipped and jumped, a leaf on the fury of wind, fragile at the thought of flying.

“I need you to step aside, sir.” A small man told me with assertiveness, trying to dislodge me from my position, kneeled next to Claire on the ground. His gloved hands were already evaluating her pulse, placing an oxygen mask on her face.

“I will not leave her side!” I growled, ferocious. He gave me a serious look, but didn’t make any further attempts to take me away from her, certain I would strike and maim any man foolish enough to try. He was right.

They quickly bandaged her abdomen with a pile of snow white compresses, held tight against her body by a bandage skilfully applied. Claire tried not to moan, but I could see her pain in every ragged breath, in the sweat that dripped from her brow.

The ambulance flew across the roads of Edinburgh, transporting us to the closest trauma centre. The driver had opened his mouth – about to object my presence – but was shortly discouraged by my menacing glance and a shook of head from the short paramedic.

“Hold on.” I repeated to Claire, like a mantra, holding her band – being almost thrown to the opposite side of the ambulance as the vehicle raced to the hospital, jumping on speed bumps and sliding on the curves like a car in hot pursuit. “Dinna die on me, mo nighean donn. I won’t let ye, do ye hear me?”

“I’m… not… too keen…. on the idea… either.” She puffed haltingly, making a weak attempt of a smile, which almost broke my heart.

“Woman of thirty, victim of an armed robbery, gunshot wound to the upper right quadrant with no exit wound – she’s losing blood fast.” The paramedic announced, as they erupted through the emergency doors, a team standing by to receive them. “Glasgow fifteen, she has been responsive during transport. Her blood pressure kept dropping, the saline is wide open but ineffective fluid challenge.” He informed to a man with brown hair and olive eyes, who nodded in acquiescence, leading the gurney carrying Claire to a trauma room as I followed closely.

“Denzel.” Claire whispered to the young surgeon, as he started to unpack her abdomen to access her injuries. “Is that you?” He looked at her face, surprised at hearing his name, and his eyes opened in shock.

“Claire!” He touched her face in greeting, as nurses hurried around, preparing trays and drugs that might be necessary. “Dear God! What happened?”

“Do ye know her?” I asked, grabbing her hand in spite of a nurse’s protest, prepared to shoo me away from the secluded room.

“Of course.” He looked at me with concern in his calm eyes, as he started to palpate her belly. Claire hissed in pain and he pursed his worried lips. “I met Claire during medical school in Boston and was very pleased when she decided to return to Scotland and be a resident here, as I am. You really shouldn’t be here, sir.”

“Please…” Claire pleaded, closing her eyes for a second and licking her chapped lips. “Let Jamie stay…just a while longer.”

“Alright.” Denzel Hunter patted her hand in reassurance. “As long as he doesn’t faint on me.”

“How… bad… is it, Denny?” She asked, her eyes more unfocused and glassy. “I’m…fairly…sure…it went through…my liver.”

“And I’m sure you’re right - brilliant even in this situation, my dear. I’ll ask Doctor Myers to come in to operate.” Denny smiled, skilfully inserting a catheter on her jugular vein.

“I’ll be dead…before…he gets here.” Claire said sheepishly, raising her brow. Her face was hazardously pale, her whiskey eyes shining even brighter, her orbs dilated from pain and blood loss. “It has…to be you. I trust…you.”

Denny nodded, solemn, checking her pupils with a small flashlight, as she suddenly became unconscious – the monitors around them going crazy with alarms. “She’s bleeding out! Let’s move people, hang that saline wide open and two units of blood on the rapid infuser!” He commanded, concentrated in the wound’s trajectory. “Do you know her blood type, by any chance?”

I didn’t know her blood type – never had the chance to ask her, that information amongst a million other precious details of her that I knew nothing about. I didn’t know her birthday, even though I knew the position she slept in. I didn’t know her favourite dish – even if I was aware she preferred sneakers than high heels. I almost choked at the realization of the lifetime of things I could be robbed of, so devastatingly – left wondering, forever, because the time we had been offered hadn’t been enough. Knowing how much I loved her – and yet knowing so little of the one I loved.

“I dinna ken.” I admitted, gripping my fists, fighting the urge to curl into a ball and weep on the floor, stained with her blood.

“That’s alright.” Denzel assured me, throwing away compresses soaked in blood. “Let’s go with O-negative! I need a blood gas test as soon as possible and someone call the OR, let them know we’re coming! I want to be doing the first cut in less than five minutes!”

“Is she going to be alright?” I fearfully asked him, reluctantly letting go of her hand as a nurse took blood from her wrist with a fine syringe.

“She’s going into shock from the blood loss.” He explained in a steady voice. “I need to repair the damage right away, before she’s too unstable to endure the procedure. We’ll take her away now.”

I approached her, feeling numb as if my own blood had been turned to ice in my veins. I kissed her forehead, my lips hot against her perspired skin.

“Don’t leave me, Claire. This time I’ll beg.” I whispered in a broken voice. “Don’t leave me.”

****

I roamed the strikingly white corridors, incapable of sitting any longer in the waiting room outside the OR, where other husbands, daughters and mothers gathered, hope and fear lurking inside their eyes.

I came upon the small chapel, whispering of shelter and tranquillity in the half-light. I sat on the wooden bench, my hands entwined in prayer – I was ready to surrender to His will well enough, but was intent on offering a bargain.

“Lord, ye gave her to me.” I whispered, my eyes fixed on the cross where he had been martyr, symbol of the most loyal of loves. “I canna make sense of it in any other way. When my need was greatest ye set her upon my path so she could heal my soul. All along I was meant for her.” A warm tear streamed down my check, too raw to be contained. “And I intend to love her well the rest of my days – to care for her and make a home of her heart. I shall repay the gifts bestowed upon me by loving her to the best of my abilities. So I ask ye now – dinna take her away.”

I clenched my teeth, fighting against the sobs that threaten to wreck my body. “For if ye ever loved, ye know this – there’s this place inside me that only exists as long as she walks the earth. Once she’s gone, the part of me that lived in her light – the best, the one that makes me myself and no one else - will die with her.” My voice was unhinged, resounding in the naked walls, pulsing as the chambers of His heart. “I’m none so brave as I was before, ken?” I added very softly. “Not brave enough to live without her anymore.”

I heard footsteps approaching the door – I didn’t bother to clean away the tear tracks on my cheeks. I didn’t turn either – I knew who had come to bring me news.

“Does she live?” I asked aloud – the hint of pain, of shaped glass an inch away from shattering, creeped into my voice.

“She lives.” Denzel Hunter sat next to me, sighing in tiredness as his bones found comfort in transient rest. “It was touch and go for a while, but I was able to retrieve the bullet and repair the vessels – she lost a bit of her liver, but it will regenerate itself with time.” His outline was sharp, softness mixed with edges, akin to a bust of an angel descending from grace to speak of hope to the lost crowd. “It will be a slow recovery – but she lives.”

“Thank ye.” I closed my eyes and bent my head, my body shaking from supressed grief, as I let go of the leash I had been using to keep myself together. “Thank ye.” I repeated. I didn’t know if I was thanking Denzel Hunter or God – but to me, in that moment, they were one and the same.

He squeezed my shoulder in silent acknowledgment and left me alone – to cry for joy and gratitude, for my heart had been saved.

****

I sat by her side as soon as she went to a room in recovery. I jumped each time a monitor bleeped, startled to the point of panic – but she slept peacefully, her lips still hauntingly pale.

I knew sleep wouldn’t touch me – my task was to watch over her. To guard her. To will her back to me.

I marvelled with each heartbeat – found terror in the infinitesimal space between each and every one of them. I talked to her in the Gaidhlig, the language of my dreams, in which I could best tell her all my heart. I brushed her hand with inquiring fingers, learning the lines of her to make sure they were still the same. I kissed her lips softly, remembering the promise of her laugh.

And as the moon rose outside, I watched the circuit of air inside her lungs, the tiny movements of flesh and bone, adjusting to the challenging rhythms of life. I watched her breathe again and again, until she opened her eyes to look at me – and I discovered that I too could breathe again.  

[ficseanspeisear]

Càite a bheil an cofaidh?

Sheall Tim aig an inneal-cofaidh a bha falamh. Agus cha robh cupa cofaidh aige an latha sin fhathast. Agus nuair a sheallas e air a' bhòrd-obrach ris am poit, cha d' fhuair e am baga cofaidh no cupa cofaidh dha. Bha Tim tro chèile.

"Càit' a bheil an cofaidh, a Jason?" Thuirt Tim às a' chidsin. Dh'fhosgail e na caibineatan.

Cha do fhreagair Jason. Dh'obair e air a mhotar-rothair.

Ghluais Tim na biadh agus sheall e anns na poitean dhan cofaidh. Nuair nach d' fhuair e an cofaidh, dhùin Tim na caibineatan. Sheall Tim anns a' chiste-dhrathraichean. " Càite a bheil an cofaidh?"

Cha do fhreagair Jason.

Chuir Tim an seòmar bun os cionn. " A Jason, Càite A Bheil An Cofaidh?!"

" Dè cofaidh."

Phiob Tim a shùilean slaodach. Agus shaobh a cheann gu Jason. Agus thuirt e cho sàmhach "Dè cofaidh! Dè Cofaidh! Thuirt e! Agh, tha gaol ort agam, Jason. Ach tha fios agam nach eil thu cho gòrach!”

"Dè a thuirt thu?" Dh'èigh Jason. Bha e na briathran toilichte.

"CÀITE A BHEIL AN COFAIDH A CHUIR MI ANNS A' CHIDSIN LEIS A' PHOIT?? SIN COFAIDH!!!!"

"Ah, uill, chan eil fios agam." Thuirt Jason. Choisich Jason dhan chidsin. Chunnaic e dè a rinn Tim. " Agus stad a' dèanamh tòn an cidsin. Ghlan mi e sa mhadainn seo dhut."

Spadh a shùil nuair a cuala e Jason. Shlàraig Tim an doras dùin. Agus thuirt e leis a guth a' snigheadh anns a' phuinseanach. "Jason, mo bhràthair, mo chairdeil, Càite A Bheil Mo Chofaidh?!"

"Chan eil fios agam ach thig dhan t-seòmair eile leam. Agus seallaidh sinn anns a' mhionaid no dha." Rug e a làmh do Tim. Chiortalaich a mheuran dha nuair a sheall e nach deach Tim a dhol a làmh.

Chuir e mùig ri Jason ach cha do tug e a làmh. ‘’Chan eil mi toilichte leat an-dràsta. Chan eil cofaidh agam fhathast agus tha mi sgìth.’’

Choisich iad anns an t-seòmar eile. Nuair a ghabhas e a-staigh, chunnaic Tim na rudeigin air a’ bhòrd.

‘S anns air a’ bhòrd a chuir Jason bracaist. Cheannaich e cofaidh às Jitters Coffee a ‘s fheàrr le Tim. Agus chòcairich e foileagan leis uighean agus sliseag beucainn dha. Agus bha am baga mòr gun do chuir Jason air a' bhòrd.

Bha iongnadh air Tim. Shuidh e ann an sèithear agus sheall e air a h-uile rudeigin.

Rinn Jason snodha-gàire ri Tim agus thug e am baga mòr dha. ‘’Fosgail e!’’

Nuair a fhosgail e am baga, fhuair e inneal-cofaidh, cairt Jitters Coffee, trì bhaga cofaidh agus cairt a thuirt gun robh fo-sgrìobhadh dhan cofaidh aige às an Dealtag agus na Bràigh-dearganan.

‘’Co-là breith sona dhut!’’

Rinn Tim snodha-gàire ri Jason agus thug e ciosagan dha. ‘’Tapadh leat. Ach ma fholaicheas thu mo chofaidh gu bràth tuilleadh, aithreachasaidh thu e. An bheil thu a’ tuigsinn?’’

‘’Tha. Tha mi a’ tuigsinn, eun naoinein.’’

Agus bha gàirdean Tim timcheall amhaich Jason.

[ficseanspeisear]

Fhuair Fox prèasantan

Choisich Ceannard Fox anns an t-seòmar-comaidh aig Dòm an t-Seanaidh. Bha cupa mòr na làmh chli gun thuirt e ‘1d seanair Ori’vod’ agus bha Pada na Dàta na làmh dheas. Leugh e obair a’ Sheannsalair air a Phada na Dàta. Bha e cho sgìthe agus cho thrang agus bha e air a shàrachadh leis an cogadh seo agus an Seanadh, na seanadairean, na Jetti, agus an Seannsalair. Bha e dìreach ag iarraidh cupa a’ chofaidh eile.

Ach anns an t-seòmar comadaidh, bha flùraichean agus seòclaidean air a 'bhòrd. Agus bha Vod na shuidhe anns an t-seithir a-mhàin anns an t-seòmar. Bha e ag òl cupa cofaidh le siùcar agus bainne, nuair a bha an Vod ag obair air a Phada na Dàta.

Sheall Fox ri Vod agus a’ bhòrd. "A Thorn, cò às a thàinig na flùraichean agus na seòclaidean?"

"Thàinig na flùraichean à Seanadair Amidala agus ‘s e flùraichean Naboonaich a th’ annta. Tha i an dòchas gun toir iad aoibhneas dhuinn. Thàinig na seòclaidean às na Jetti. Agus ma sheallas thu anns na bogsan anns an t-Seòmar-stòrais 974, lòrgadh tu botail na fhìon Alderaanaich agus botail na bhranndaidh Correlliaiche. Thàinig an acol à Seanadair Bail. Agus ghabh Seannadair Chuchi cofaidh dhuinn oir tuaraidh sinn cofaidh math." Thuirt Thorn. "Rinn mi poit ùr agus bha i deiseil ma bhios thu ag iarraidh cofaidh."

Choisich Ceannard Fox chun poit a’ chòfaidh. Chuir e a Phada na Dàta air a’ bhòrd. Agus dhòirt an cofaidh anns a’ chupa. Thug e druthag cofaidh leis a shuilean dùinte. Rinn Fox osann. Sglàmh e an cofaidh agus dhòirt an cofaidh anns a’ chupa a-rithist.

"Hoigh, a Fhoxy! Dè a tha tighinn ruit?" Thuirt guth. Thionndan Fox timcheall air gu lauth. Chan fhaca e Thorn, ach sheall e ri Vos. Thorn. Rach Vos air a’ bhalla agus chroisg e a ghàirdeanan.

"Dè a tha thusa ag iarraigh, a Vos?" Thuirt Fox aig Vos le suilean caoile. "Carson a bheil thusa aig an Fhreiceadan Choruscant?"

"Uill, tha prèasant agam dhut." Thuirt Vos. Choisich e a’ tarsainneachadh an seòmar do Fox. Chuir e a ghàirdeanan air gach taobh de Fox. Thog Fox an cupa suas ga bheul leis a dhà làmh.

"Seadh." Thuirt Fox beumach agus thug e druthag a chofaidh.

Thug Vos cupa a’ chofaidh Fhox. Agus chuir e aig a’ bhòrd leth ris a’ Phada na Dàta. Chuir Fox gruaim air. Ach thug Vos mach bogsa agus thug an bogsa gu Fox. Nuair a dh’fhosgail Fox an bogsa, sheall e muinge le criostal Kyber. Sheall Fox a-suas ri Vos.

"Carson…?" Thuirt Fox ann an guth-thàmh. Bha fiamh air ron prèasant.

"Tha mo ghion ort, agus tha gaol aig mo chriostal Kyber ortsa. ‘s minig a bha e nar ùidh thoirt pàirt de ar bheatha dhut." Thuirt Vos, "Agus ‘s e Là Naomh Bhaileintin a th’ ann an an-duigh, bha sinn ag iarraidh pàirt mo criostal Kyber."

"Tapadh leat." Thuirt Fox. "Ach chan eil fios agam dè Là Naomh Bhaileintin a th' ann?"

"’S e latha a’ ghaoil a th’ air Là Naomh Bhaileintin agus air an latha, bheir thu prèasantan gu na daoine cò dha bheir gaol agad." Thuirt Vos.

"Oh, tha mi a' faicinn." Thuirt Fox agus sheall e aig na prèasantan air a’ bòrd. "Uill, tapadh leat. Tha gaol agam ort."

Thug Fox pòg do Vos ann am pòg Keldabe. "Là Naomh Bhaileintin shòna."

________________________________________________________________

Notes:

Facal Star Wars ann a' Ghàidhlig Pada na Dàta - Datapads Seannsalair- Chancellor Freiceadan Coruscant - Coruscant Guard Ceannard Fox - Commander Fox Seanadh - Senate Seòmar-comaidh - break room/mess room Dòm an t-Seanaidh - Senante Dome Naboonach - Nabooian Alderaanach - Alderaanian Correlliach - Correllian Criostal Kyber - Kyber Crystal Vod - brother in Mando'a