#poison prose

[toxinspired]

dancing on heaven's palm

There's a masquerade ball tonight. For Luffy, a buffet. For Zoro, free booze. And for Nami, any number of stupid rich people whose jewelry would look much better on her. Bright Island towers above them, its foundations sinking into the depths. At the top lies a glittering mansion. Old mines turned into shops and houses in the middle. Beneath the waves, know knows what lurks?

fandom: one piece

rating: teen

chapter 1/3

relationship(s): luffy/zoro/nami

tags: post-wano, masquerade, established relationship, canon typical levels of violence, additional warnings in fic

this is my OP Big Bang 2023 fic! it's finally here! art done by the wonderful @nairi-0 and beta-ing done by the lovely @swordsmans

im super excited to finally be able to share this ♡

[theartoffresco]

[notmygrave]

i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth

[a-dreamersjournal]

The sweetest poison.

I knew I religiously loathed myself when you kissed me softly and I hated it. Because somehow, it wasn't hurting me. You weren't hurting me. And I don't recognize myself when I'm not aching. I still remember the night when you held me and I begged you to kiss me hard, hard enough to draw blood from my lips, I couldn't tell you how I longed to feel the pain. So when you smiled, confused, I smiled back, dismissing my plea as a joke. I was too ashamed to confess how desperately I wanted love to hurt me, to give up on one last strand of dim hope. To give up on the hope that, maybe love could save me. I wish I knew the pain i was seeking would break my skin and bones, make me crawl and beg for mercy every single day. I didn't know you could Love like that, Darling. I didn't know you could make me hurt like that.

Did you somehow figure out I wasn't Joking that night? Or did you hurt me because..you simply could? I guess I will never know the answer to that. But for what it's worth.. You are the sweetest most deadliest poison I ever had.

[profanityandprose]

“I’m the poison apple in your tree.”

[poeticalyx]

Samudra-manthan ke hodh me,

Nikla wo ban ke amrit,

Danav aur devta,

Sab use paane ke liye the prerit,

Use sabhi ne lagaya shish,

Aur mai ban kar nikli jehrila vish,

Koi naa karna chaha vish ko grahan,

Par nilkanth ne kiya sahan,

Mujhe sabne usse thukraya,

Aur me chal padi uski bankar nila saya.

समुद्र-मंथन के होड़ में,

निकला वह बन के अमृत,

दानव और देवता,

सब उसे पाने के लिए थे प्रेरित।

उसे सबने लगाया शीर्ष,

और मैं बन कर निकली जहरीला विष।

कोई ना करना चाहा विष को ग्रहण,

पर नीलकंठ ने किया सहन।

मुझे सबने उससे ठुकराया,

और मैं चल पड़ी उसकी बांकर नीला साया।

Midst the tug war of sea churning,

He arised being the holy fluid of immortality,

Evil and God,

Everyone-

To have him played the game witty,

Each of them bowed to him due respect,

As slowly I, from sea, rised being the toxin of suspect,

To drink the toxin-

Each took steps back of month,

But delicately and droughtly drank by Nilkanth,

They kept me apart from him-my holy fluid,

Now I lovingly labrynth into him as his blue shadow of void.

—poetiCalyx

[quotelr]

Someday we shall look back on this dark era of agriculture and shake our heads. How could we have ever believed that it was a good idea to grow our food with poisons?

Jane Goodall

[revelisms]

He does not remember how it feels to taste the sweet-summer warmth of laughter, real laughter: tangerine-sun, honey-smooth: the kind that oozes past cracked teeth and crooking smiles, shakes through one's bones and racks off the walls.

Oh, it's been years since he's laughed. A lifetime since the sliver at his mouth curled just-so at the corner, the way it used to: 45-degree slant, flash of teeth, chuff off the tongue.

He does not remember it—because to remember it means remembering it all: means sitting back in dim-lit rooms with shared cigarettes and smoke-sweet snarking and the floorboards bruising at his back, means ink-stained fingers and stacks of pamphlets and riot-songs in the streets, means that blazing silhouette in red and fire being hope and wonder and him—not betrayer, not murderer; not asphyxia clogging his head with cotton, and the toxins handling the rest.

He squeezes his eye shut, hard enough to ache—and he sees black. Sees pinprick-light at the end of a tunnel, thirty meters from salvation.

And that—

That, he remembers.

The way sulphur sat in one's throat like a poisoned seed: turned their spit metallic and their lungs to stone. Cool clay slick-sludged through his fingers. Gravel in his nails, coal on his teeth. Tick-tick-trings of steel and stone, and metal screeching down the tracks, and rusted shafts lurching beneath their feet: every gear squealing to slaughter, cattling them meter by soured meter into the chilled breath of a beast. Their days and nights marked by clean descents with the dawn; ash-coated resurfacings with the smogged moon. Thrown to the farthest rungs of hell—only to survive for a lesser purgatory.

A quarter of a lifetime spent underground.

One couldn't scrub the dust from their skin, if they tried. Or the blood, it seemed. Not that it made a bloody difference.

Blood in his eye, on his hands, in the clean red he buttons over the sallow of his skin; tugs sharp at the wrists, smooths flat at the collar. His tie ribboned and weaved, a dozy hiss between his fingers. A suit of silken armor: shielding, for all it confines.

In his office, he thwicks open a gilded lighter. Pulls in a drag.

"You smoke too much, y'know." Child's-lilt: quietly scornful.

Silco huffs blue through his teeth, the tail-end of a sound almost familiar. "Phantoms leave their marks."

The tobacco hits his throat with juniper leaf: sweet-bitter-burning. Even then, there's sulphur on his breath.

silco, on past lives / what you remember.

[twerkswiththepowerofthedarkside]

Isn't there such poetry in venom,

Because Reneé told me you could poison poison,

But here I am, mouth wide open.

[tearstainedink]

Would you wait for me until the day that the words “I love you” no longer feel like poison on my tongue?

[toxinspired]

swiftly flow the days

"Koala let herself be absorbed into asinine small talk, keeping an eye on the patio and the mansion beyond. People crowded around the food tables, a few guards made rounds around the perimeter, and a few more kept watch from doorways leading deeper in. Nami, still on her arm, laughed at something one of the noble women said. According to their information, it was almost time for the shift to change over. The clock ticked on."

a thief and a spy walk into a bar

fandom: one piece

rating: teen

relationship(s): nami/koala

tags: secret identities, heist, post-time skip

wordcount: 3984

[trystmmmwords]

After all this time,

I sometimes still crave for the recklessness .

The recklessness that took my life .

[thecityhermit]

From AJ Addams’ collection of poetry and prose, Doll House. New chapter up now!

[screamintothevoidd]

I once ingested poison.

Ever so often I think about it.

Ever so often I cry about it.

[quotelr]

I wish I could throw off the thoughts which poison my happiness.

Frédéric Chopin

[reverie-quotes]

"You said that you envied what you feared and hated what you envied." Roiben rested his long fingers on Corny's shoulder. "But it is as easy to hate what you love as to hate what you fear."

— Holly Black, "The Land of Heart's Desire" - The Poison Eaters