#kolwrites

[witchystarssystem]

TW Abuse, Intense Trauma, Repitition, Body Horror

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☢️Quarantine☢️

I associate it with being left with no food. Starved and held at arm's length. I'm reminded of my own parents looking me in the eyes with disgust as they told me what they'd do...and why.

"Germs. We don't want our kids to catch them."

Our kids. I was a monster. I was born by blood. I was tainted

I was locked away. Days on end.

I got my own room but it was a prison. White walls. Too many walls. I talked to them. I asked for help.

No one came. No one ever comes

Quarantine

I associate it with pacing around, head toward my feet

1..2..3

1..2..3

1..2..3

I counted my steps and brick by brick built a wall in my mind. No one could hurt me. Count to three.

Count to three

Control. Gain control.

Count to three. Feel nothing.

Quarantine

I associate it with a growling stomach. Hungry for food or blood. Mainly blood

Bite the hand that beats me.

Tear it apart and savor the crack of bone.

Feed it to me, the sick dog

Better than the scraps I was given.

Quarantine

I associate it with tired eyes, trembling hands and muffled sobs.

Dehydration. Hunger. Day in and day out being reminded that loving someone was wrong.

I was abnormal. I was a disease someone could catch.

A virus.

Every breath was contagious. I was contagious.

I was a sickness.

Being queer was a sickness

I was sick.

So sick I needed to be kept away from others.

So sick I couldn't hug my siblings. So damn sick my parents casted me aside as if I was the dirt under their feet

"No one wants a mistake."

Quarantine

I was sick

No one had the cure

Quarantine isn't the same as isolation. Not to me.

Each word holds something traumatic

Something shaky.

Something terrifying

They are not the same

My parents placed me under quarantine because I was sick without any cure

The camp heads placed me under isolation, wanting to beat a cure into me

.

.

.

.

I shrug

"Just don't say the word around me. Okay?"

~Quarantine (4.4.20)

[dissociationnation]

Sun and Moon Part one.

Characters: Nyal Grey, Mako Reyes (OCs)

AU: Florist and tattoo artist, supernatural. 

Wordcount: 9.7K+.

A/N: Hello my dears! I’ll be writing this with the hopes of getting some feelings out, this’ll be mainly fluff and slow-burn galore but I do plan to sprinkle in some angst.

Slivers of bright sunlight peeked through the curtains, falling onto the sheets that pooled at Nyal’s hips, the slightest burn from the light made him shoot up, yells of ‘FLUFF’ and ‘CRUSH A UNICORN’ leaving his lips. His fangs sunk into his bottom lip gently, whines leaving his lips as he tugged his black sleep shirt down, rich ruby-coloured eyes narrowing into a glare as he tugged his slender fingers through his raven locks. He half-glanced to the clock, watching the bright numbers mockingly flash 13:41. He was late for his shift, good unicorn saviours as if the day could get worse.

He lifted his shirt up once he got to the bathroom, rummaging through his things until his hand wrapped around a small can of cream for such incidents that happened much too often to be considered ‘incidents’. It was truly his fault for always being out just before sunrise and retreating in a hurry that he often forgot to secure his curtains. He just never learned. A low hiss left his lips as he pressed the cool gel against the burn that was no bigger than a nickel. His head fell back, bloody tears beginning to form and fall without much of a care for his floor. His sleeve came to wipe it away, resealing the cream and setting it away. He stripped his shirt, staring at himself in the mirror, fingers ghosting over his chest, the faint lines of surgery still apparent if you looked close enough, or rather had a vampire’s sight. He tore his eyes away from the mental image of himself before, pulling out gauze and wrapping that would be covered by his uniform shirt. He tugged his hair back, tying it into a bun, admiring the undercut as he finished. He left without another glance, brushing a few loose hairs from his face and beginning to undress, tugging the curtain back into place.

His eyes scanned through his pants, catching on a few brighter-looking rather than the usual black cargo pants that he was famously known for in his workplace. He took out a white pair, slipping them on and readjusting the size slightly and pulling on the bright yellow shirt that was a trademark to the flower shop he worked at. A sigh of relief left his lips, though the moment was short-lived once the familiar beat of his most recent song addictions filled the air. He floated over to his phone, picking it up and holding it to his ear “Grey, how may I assist you?~” 

“Nyal get your ass to the shop before I literally take away every cat plushie from the break room” a gasp left his lips, though it wasn’t out of shock it was more so teasing “HAH! Jokes on you, I moved them to my house.” a groan was heard on the other line “Guess you won’t get the limited edition Junie kitty.” within a few minutes all that was heard from Nyal was rushing and the breaking of a few things as he searched for his umbrella and shoes, shouts of “HOLD IT LADY!” being heard distantly before he reached for his device and rushed out the door, half running half floating. “I’m on my way right now!” his pale cheeks were blooming with colour, reds and pinks creeping across his face as his chest heaved. He came to a stop outside of the shop, leaning against the window and leaning down to catch his breath, catching the stares of a few humans, witches, and vampires alike. He waved them along and stepped inside, inviting the cold air with open arms, closing his umbrella and setting it aside as he usually did each time he stepped inside. His steps were light, sneakers sliding across the floor as he began to float, turning so he was on his back and drifted over the flowers, admiring their differing colours with a gentle smile. Raven locks tickled a few petals, his fingers drifting over a few that seemed to be drooping.

His relaxation was interrupted when the door suddenly swung open, hitting the window and effectively scaring the wits out of the small male. His floating turned into falling quickly, landing on his back, gasping for air once it had been knocked from his lungs “holy unicorns dude.” he sat up slowly, beating against his chest as he moved behind the counter, glaring to the man that had entered, resting his chest against the counter “How may I assist you, sir?” The flustered look on the man’s face was almost enough to let him forgive the taller for making him casually fall out of the air.

“What’s the best flower for a confession?” the question was easy enough, though he felt a bit out of his element since well...ya know. “Would you rather have one specific type or a bouquet of different flowers? Bouquet’s tend to be more pleasing, but to each their own darlin’.” the slightest southern drawl was detectable, his hands already reaching for a few flowers to use to sample. He set down a few variations in colours of roses, adding in a few white Gardenia’s. “How do these look, sweetie?” he looked to the back of the store, his foot tapping nervously as his boss stared at him through the breakroom window, a smirk on her face. Tricky women. He excused himself for a few minutes, allowing the man a few minutes to decide what he wanted to do and collect the apron he’d left on his hook. A smile graced his lips at the tape over his name, the N was etched beautifully and the rest covered with tape, the messy handwriting of Elsie covering the rest with ‘yal’. She really was a supportive woman, working with her the past three years was lovely to him. He fastened the apron, reappearing at the counter “Figured it out yet, love?”

The man nodded mutely, mumbling something he couldn’t quite catch other than ‘bouquet’ and ‘price’ “You wish for the bouquet? That’ll be…” he trailed off as he began assembling the bouquet with one hand, using the other to tap into the register and pulling it away to finish tying the ribbon “18.37.” he smiled slightly, enough to keep his fangs partially hidden. The man paid and left with his bouquet, seemingly much more confident in himself now.

Hours passed, customers came and went and at this point, Nyal was exhausted from being the only one to do anything, his boss watching and enjoying his painful social interaction. A few times elderly women came in and with a confused stare attempted to refer to him, his deep voice “not doing much to help them” apparently. Pure bullshit, but he’d never comment on it. He collapsed in the breakroom, glaring daggers at Elsie, watching as she let out giggles and snorts “You looked so cute! Like a lost puppy AH HAH!” his cheeks burned, arms crossing as he huffed out a mumble of what he’d call kid-friendly curses.

The door rang out, alerting to another customer and Nyal stood with a groan, leaving the break room and stretching his arms, not taking notice of the stranger until he made it to the counter and opened his mouth to greet. His throat ran dry as he stared at the much taller customer, allowing himself to float a bit for the sake of comfort for his neck. “How may I help you darlin’?” He could practically feel Elise’s gaze on the back of his head, his mental sensors making everything inside of him explode when the customer replied with “pick me any flower you like, sweetheart.” he clicked his tongue at the line, lowering himself back to the ground and coming from behind the desk to look through the flowers, he knew them all like the back of his hand but he’d never really thought of them in a way he’d choose a specific plush. “I don’t think I have a favourite, sorry sweetie. Is there a flower that catches your eye?” his head tilted as he motioned to a few of the brighter flowers, more pleasing to the eye to him. “Only other pretty flower here is you, so I’m afraid there’s none. Unless you’d like to come with me?” he couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips, his hand moving to muffle the laughter and only failing as he crouched to keep from shaking in place “I’m sorry but… I’m no flower darlin’.” he stood up shakily, a few wheezes of laughter continuing to leave his lips “I could suggest you a rose or something, but I’m afraid even if I were a flower my boss can’t do anything without me.” he jerked his thumb to the breakroom, Elsie nearly falling backwards when the customer glanced at her. “What a shame. Well, if you ever take it back I’m Mako.” Nyal nodded, slightly shaking as he suppressed more laughter “Nyal. I’m almost always here, but don’t expect a time.” with that Mako left, sending one or two winks in Nyal’s direction through the window before disappearing. Elsie left the backroom, her giggle bouncing off the walls and making Nyal’s composure break within minutes “Your face is so red Ny, are you okay?” Nyal shook his head, leaning against the counter and continuing to shake and laugh.

Mako sat at the tattoo shop, staring through the window to the flower shop just across the street. A fond smile crossed their lips as Nyal and Elsie continued to laugh, Nyal’s small form bouncing and shaking Elsie who would smack him in response. They’d observed Nyal’s routine ever since starting their job as an artist, how he’d smile, his confidence changing as he transitioned and became more comfortable, at this point, they were sure they’d be a confirmed stalker. Nyal’s gaze would always fall on the tattoo shop, the urge to go in but being far too scared to commit with each time he left his shift. It was amusing to see the way he’d stop a few of the artists at the end of a shift, asking them for ideas or tips if he were to ever get inked. In a way, it’s what caused Mako to admire the male, and gain enough confidence to even approach. They hummed in content becoming lost for what felt like seconds though it was more close to an hour or so, only being brought back to reality when the buzzer rang to alert someone entering “Hello welcome to Glory tatts, you think it we ink it.” they looked down to see a familiar face, raising an eyebrow as a smirk graced their lips 

“Well if it isn’t my little flower.”

[witchystarssystem]

Weird to think I've known Avalon (Currently Mist), Jay, Leon, Tiny and Lu (Currently Meadow) forever without really acknowledging I was a system?? I don't even remember what research I even did but something clicked. When I was 15, I talked to an old friend via an RP which ended up having Leon and Tiny speak? Then Jay and Avalon. I think I had gotten overwhelmed sometimes and they stepped in. Kinda let switches happen more often I think. I remember vividly when Meadow really co fronted. I had my phone taken for some reason. Don't remember why. My parents accused me of taking it when I didn't. I was in bed crying. My mom had come in and threatened to kick me out because I "kept fucking things up and tearing things up". I bawled into my pillow when she left and shut the door.

"Mommy... I'm sorry. I'm sorry Mommy!" That voice wasn't mine..... I couldn't stop crying but felt so detached... everything just kinda hurt yknow? Yeah it sucked. Back then I had only five alters that I knew of. Tiny didn't speak at all though. She vented through an old blog..... Dunno. The signs have always been there. Weird..