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#open ended prompt
0-ink-zinc · 8 months
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Writing Prompt # 14
Bounding down
the rabbit goes.
Through the trees
and through the halls.
Chasing cotton
and catching dreams.
Falling through
to deep
unsettling
seas.
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ghostbsuter · 6 months
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I'm on the writing grind, you can see that I just finished rewatching the Teen Titans (2003).
Edit: Here is some art I did for Titan!Phantom
.・゜-: ✧ :-
(The end is near.)
Gripping the communicator, the bright yellow case with a cartoonish 'T' on top glared back at him.
(The portal was growing.)
He presses the button, the communicator switches on and he calls out.
"Phantom to Titans, do you hear me? Phantom to Titans."
The crackling sound came as a sign of connection, It didn't take any heavy weight off, however.
"Robin here, Phantom? Everything alright?" The soothing voice of Teen Titans leader answers him, and he suppresses a sigh.
"Robin," he bites his lip, the portal only growing.
The ghost zone is eating Amity and all just because fucking Vlad couldn't, for one ancient time, sit still.
"I—" a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he apologises with a wince. "You're gonna be really angry at me when you... find out."
Concern leaks through the voice as Robin speaks. "Phantom? What's going on?"
Thr screen on the communicator switches on and Robins brow knitted expression stares back at him.
It quickly changes, alarmed. "Phantom." The vigilante says. "Is Amity Park okay? Do you need backup?"
Always on the right track, dear leader. Danny shakes his head fondly.
"It's too late for backup," he admits quietly.
"Phan—"
"Just tell new members of me, okay?"
Danny doesn't let the other finish, giving a bitter smile before throwing the communicator on the ground, breaking it.
The familiar yet threatening green of the ghost zone welcomes him.
"Titans! Emergency call, Phantom got a situation!"
The bright red lights is enough for the rest of the team to flood to the common room.
"Rob?" Cyborg asks. "What's the situation?"
"We don't know!" The bird answers, stressed. He's pulling the audio and video recording of the call up to the monitor, replaying it for the team.
They don't figure it out until they are at Amity, landing with the jet and jumping from their seats.
Raven and Starfire fly ahead, and they all reach the border of Amity.
Or what of Amity remains.
Because–
The entire city is gone—!!
Complete annihilation.
(When robin finds out who did this, he will have words with them.)
"Robin," Raven waves them all over to her side. She's crouching, hand in a sphere of black, her magic. "Amity wasn't destroyed. It was relocated."
Her expression is grim. "Someone abducted a whole city."
All he does is nod, looking at the team before him.
"Someone call Herald, Titans, we got work to do. Our mission is to find Amity Park, Phantom, and save both." With sombre nods, they prepared for take off.
"Titans! Go!"
And they separate.
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whump-kia · 2 months
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god I love caretaker-turned-whumpee so much. "I'm going to scream. don't stop." coaching someone through stitches. explaining the procedure step-by-step, knowing the motions by heart and knowing your life has to be in someone else's hands. "take a deep breath. steady. you can do this." pushing aside the agony in favor of keeping your inexperienced caretaker calm, clinical precision even in pain, "hold me down," the trust and vulnerability in letting someone heal you when you spend your life healing others. ugh. it's so good.
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 140
Y’know what I am rotating for crossovers? The Flashpoint timeline. You know who I want the Murder Grandpa to meet? His grandkids. You know who else I want him to meet? Battinson. 
Now why not include a bit of a crossover. 
Thomas was expecting to die, what with the whole timeline collapse and all that. But well, Clockwork has final say in time-related things. And his favorite show has gotten interesting but quite stale- but, there’s this small baby timeline, one similar to his previous favorite show. 
A baby timeline where Bruce was the one to live, and is even juuust starting out as a vigilante and has just gotten a trio of little children. Wouldn’t it be interesting if he just… picked up this one older ball of rage and placed them with these smaller mini balls of vengeance? 
Come join him Daniel, there’s a new show/timeline to watch. He has popcorn!
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spielzeugkaiser · 2 years
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[First Part] - [second]
Baby (who still has no name) is warming up to Geralt, who also starts to connect some dots. (Like, I think he suspects that he's Jaskiers son, adopted or otherwise, but he won't even humor the idea that he could be the dad.) That being said - the kid is an angry teenager sometimes. Jaskier tried all he could as a single parent and they have a very loving relationship, but I also think they do argue quite a bit, and there is some tension.
And the more he gets to learn how Geralt truly is the weirder is gets, cause. He's a good guy? And either Jaskier is petty and was too dramatic and kept him from meeting his dad for nothing, or Geralt isn't a good guy AT ALL and has hurt Jaskier really bad, and he doesn't think Geralt has it in him, but some people (and especially alphas) get really weird and archaic around omegas? And he had to witness again and again, with how little respect his unbonded, single father of a bastard child was treated - is Geralt like that too? But Jaskier still only ever talked somewhat kindly about him. And from all he saw... he trusts Geralt. He's a quiet, but witty and honorable man. But is it fair to doubt the parent that was there for him, that raised him, that sacrificed so much for him? The poor kid is so conflicted.
#please tell me your headcanons and prompts about this 'verse it's just vibes so far and like 10% plot#geraskier#geralt of rivia#the witcher#ciri#omegaverse#geraskier lovechild#jaskier#i don't know where this came from#but I imagined the kid as quite sickly (which is ironic) - Geralt does not really remember that he was sick as a child all the time too#also I do think Jaskier can play the lute but it's no fun for his fingers and he switched to other stuff over the years#I'm quite sure that Jaskier kept a low profile after the Rience incident because he was TERRIFIED by the thought what could have happened#also I really wanted to look at this with a kind of more realistic lense when it comes to parentage#and Jaskier did all the things right where it counts#He's loving he's emotional open he communicates - but would Jaskier always be a reliable parent? a structured one? an easily available one?#I don't think so#professor Jaskier can work for hours on end and forget to get you on time from your play date so you have to awkwardly wait and#he forgets to cook and to wash and it's always messy and once he writes he writes and gets annoyed when interrupted#but he also tells bedtime stories and stays at your bedside when you're ill and plays with you when you moved AGAIN and have no friends yet#he's easily pulled into arguments but also knows how to apologise#but he lies again and again#and he tells heroic and brave and honourable stories about your dad but still has a chest with your unsend letters and looks so so sad#when you put another one in his hands#and he never tells you to stop but doesn't send them and you know your Papa would be too kind to ask you to stop#ALSO#I think the kid is old enough to understand some of the inherent consent issues that are rampant in omegaverse#and while I imagined that 'verse here a bit tuned down#I think that the kid has seen and heard some shit! and what if Jaskier in only talking kindly of Geralt to soften the blow for him and-#kid is 100% ready to break Geralts nose if it turned out that he forced himself on his pa#(which he did not ofc but nobody communicates here)
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ocwonderland · 4 months
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OC creators, what are some of your OC-related goals for 2024?
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captaindamianos · 9 months
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A long long time ago @zumurruds asked for Nicaise. I finally tried my hand at him
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bluemantics · 9 months
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Lance breathed in a ragged breath.
In, out.
The soot fogged up his helmet, choking him up, but he still pushed onward. Step after step after step. In, out. His breathing was labored. His armor was dirtied. His limbs ached.
“Keith?” Pidge’s voice rang out over the comms.
Keith had come after Lance when the Galra had made the threat, when Lance dove down into that waste of a planet. At first, he’d been held back by Shiro. Keith was somewhere on this planet now, but Lance couldn’t focus on him. He had other priorities. Keith would be fine.
In, out.
Lance focused on his breathing instead, tuned out the outside sounds of the paladins calling for Keith and him. With each struggling step, his bayard illuminating the way, he dragged himself over to the cave home.
It’s curtains were drawn, and no light came from within. The only sign of life were the heat signatures his helmet picked up.
Fuck, the air was rough.
“Lance, your helmet is broken,“ Allura started.
Lance shut off the comms. Anything distracting him was preventing him from reaching /them./ He pushed his way through the curtain entrance.
There she was.
Huddling under a table in the corner was a small girl, a blue-scaled dragonling humanoid with bright red eyes. She was trembling. Lance got down on his hands and knees, crawling over to her.
In, out. His throat hurt.
“Hey,” he said softly, a rasp tickling his words. “I’m a Paladin of Voltron. I’m here to save you from the fires.”
The alien girl croaked out a whimper. She clearly didn’t recognize him, but her planet was a member of the coalition… fuck. Lance knew what he had to do.
He removed his helmet.
“See?” Her eyes lit up with recognition.
“Loverboy!” she exclaimed. Lance winced at his stage name, laughing outwardly to reassure her.
“That’s right, and I’m here to save you,” he agreed, reaching his arms out to her. Without the meager protection of his helmet, he was really starting to feel woozy. Still, that didn’t matter.
With shaking hands, he picked her up and began to walk outside the cave home and back to Blue.
This time, though, the trek was worse. He couldn’t see as well without his helmet, couldn’t recognize heat signatures or the fastest path back. Instead, he relied on lighting up his footsteps and retracing his steps.
That didn’t last long.
After 20 steps, Lance began to feel dizzy. He lurched, which caused the girl to make a series of clicks.
In, out. He patted her back and continued on.
After 50 steps, Lance started to lose the edges of his vision to blackness. He could feel the mucus in his throat fighting his inhalations. He fought back harder. He would have to reach a level of survival that went beyond what he could handle. To save her.
In, out.
Finally.
120 steps.
Lance fell to his knees.
The girl screamed.
Lance was only a football field from Blue. He had failed.
The girl scrabbled her claws at his armor, wailing, her cries embellished by the distant sound of crackling fire. Lance closed his eyes, listening to her pain, letting it soak in. He’d failed her, and this was his punishment, to lie prone and to hear her suffer. He had failed.
In, out.
He felt a tug to some hidden darkness inside of him.
“Lance!”
Oh, that wasn’t supposed to happen.
Lance felt more than heard the pounding footsteps of Keith Kogane as he ran to his side, kneeling by Lance’s head and cradling it in his hands.
“Stay awake, Lance, I have an O2 mask and we can get the girl to safety—“
“Loverboy!” The girl insisted.
Keith’s head snapped up. Lance chuckled weakly, coughing at the end.
“What?” Keith asked.
“She knows… shows,” he muttered in response. Keith huffed a breath, fogging up his helmet.
“Oh.”
Lance coughed again, and Keith panicked, pulling a mask from his belt. “Stay awake.”
“Loverboy,” the girl insisted again, tugging on Keith’s shoulder.
Lance blinked slowly. The world was slow. Why was the ash now falling on his face in slow motion? Why was Keith putting the mask on so slowly?
In, out.
Lance blinked. The darkness came back. He closed his eyes.
“No, Lance, no.”
Lance wasn’t listening. It was more peaceful, here, to focus inwardly rather than on the voices out there. It was quiet and dark and cool. The fires couldn’t touch him here.
“Loverboy? Stay with me, please. Please.” The rawness in his voice made Lance’s eyes snap open.
“Keith? I’m really trying…”
Words were too difficult, though.
So Lance let his heavy eyelids fall, let the blackness rush in. He felt the mask press into his chin and nose.
“I know, Lance.”
Silence again.
In,
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mae-dwrites · 2 months
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“You remind me of someone.” her voice was contemplative.
“I do?” she could hear him quirk his eyebrow.
“Yeah.” her voice was unusually quiet.
“Is that good or bad?” he gave a nervous laugh and leaned back watching her.
Dani sighed looking down at the city below them. She didn't quite know. She’d found him but he didn't recognize her.
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wisteriagoesvroom · 2 months
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drabble request! feel free to tweak/change especially if the pairing isn't your cup of tea: logan/oscar and morning coffee?
thank you and have a great day today!
okay!! i didn't think i'd have much to say about this pairing but. it turns out i'm a liar.
(ignore the fact that oscar won f2 in covid...in bahrain... and i don't think logan was in the same championship that year. something something artistic liberties)
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The carpet tickles Oscar's neck. He blinks his eyes open.
F2 celebrations were a blur. Logan dragged Oscar to some godawful nightclub, all bright lights and sweaty bodies and people pressing on him. Last night comes back in sparks. Jagerbombs, shoulder bumps, arms in the air like they just don’t care. Electro beat so loud it rattled his brain. 
They both ended up on the floor of Oscar’s hotel suite. Oscar’s not sure why that was, or what logic there was in that decision when they fumbled with the room key and tumbled in at the wee hours of the morning. 
Logan tosses a red team polo at Oscar’s face.
“Get up, dude.” 
Oscar makes a noise that sounds lot like ngggh.
“That was a total shitshow.” Logan says.
“Yeah. I know. Told you not to go, didn’t I?”
“C’mon man. Last day of F2 and you weren’t gonna celebrate?”
“I feel awful. This feels awful.” 
“But winning F2. Bet that doesn’t feel so bad.”
They both stare at the trophy, sitting sideways on a nearby sofa. Thankfully Oscar had the wits to deposit the silverware in his room before he went out to the party last night.
Oscar also thinks at some point that Logan’s arm ended up around his waist last night. Like really tight for some reason, but he can’t really remember. 
The trophy winks at them in the morning sunlight, as if in on a joke. 
Logan points at the trophy. “You should totally name it.”
“No.”
“Yeah you should.”
“My head hurts. What will it take to shut you up right now?”
Logan’s chest rumbles as he laughs. He’s spry, still, but Oscar knows from their training together that he’s getting stronger every month. There might be a day soon where Logan’s going to stand taller than him. 
He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about that. 
“McBreakfast, maybe.” Logan nods to himself as if he's just invented a great new concept. “A McMuffin with double hash browns. Yeah.”
“You’re so predictable.”
“I feel like you like that about me.”
“Humility is a good look, Sargeant. You should try it sometime.”
Logan barks a laugh, and stands up. He reaches an arm out to help Oscar up. Oscar still feels like someone’s dropped a ton of bricks on his head, but at least there’s someone here to help. Or commiserate. Whatever. Maybe they’re the same thing, sometimes.
“What is it that adults are supposed to do?” Logan says, adjusting his shirt. 
“Get a coffee,” he adds, in a deeper baritone.
“Disgusting stuff. Don't get why people like drinking it.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You drink stuff like my kid cousin.”
“Don’t chocolate-shame me.”
“I would never. You loser.”
“Who’re you calling loser?!” Oscar exclaims. He darts at Logan, and ends up pulling the other driver in a headlock. Logan’s hair is warm and a bit sweaty under Oscar’s hands. Also Logan screeches like an eagle the whole time. They’re probably going to get a noise complaint, but whatever. Oscar will take his F2 Championship privileges, if only to bully his friend. 
"Take that back!" Oscar says.
“Nah!”
“Right now!”
"Fuck's sake, man! Okay, okay."
Oscar releases the other guy, and Logan stands up again. His cheeks are very red. 
"Like I said. Feral. And I'm from Florida."
Oscar rolls his eyes as they both go get ready. He has to suppress a grin as they brush their teeth side by side.
Later, he and Logan end up going to a nearby McDonalds. Logan ends up getting his shitty coffee. They order McMuffins and three hash browns to share, and Oscar spends a full minute lecturing Logan about the health benefits of Milo. 
Logan doesn’t look like he believes a word of what Oscar's saying. Yet he listens the whole time, and laughs in all the right places anyway. 
And tomorrow, Oscar has meetings with F1 teams. Proper ones, to talk about his future, where he might actually have a chance to race. Mark's the one arranging them, and Oscar's supposed to be the star player now.
It's your time, Mark had told him, eyes sharp but patient. 
But today: Oscar still has a day left in F2. And he’s going to spend it, cosy in a booth at an unremarkable McDonalds, getting brain freeze from a milkshake, shooting the shit. Laughing until he snorts.
With one of the few people in his small circle who knows what it's like to be young, hungry, and maybe a little bit stupid.
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its-wabby-stuff · 9 months
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By the Side of the Black Lake
I can’t remember how I found the lake, or when. But it was instantly mesmerizing.
The surface lay completely still, bordered by rocks on the east side and a glassy beach of soft sand on the west. There were no waves, no tide, I wasn’t even sure if it was water.
Just a black ink that spread out, shaped by the land, completely opaque. It didn’t feel natural, but it looked beautiful.
I could sit on the lake side for hours, just admiring it and it’s intensity. I wouldn’t dare to touch it. Things this peculiar in nature always came with some horrific price. A temperature hot enough to boil you alive, or completely melt the flesh off bones. (Like the sulphur springs in Yellowstone, except this didn’t smell of rotting eggs).
Things had been dropped into the lake before, but the surface was so dark, you would never be able to tell what happened to it. It would just disappear into the darkness. Things could float on the surface but the patterns never matched any typical current, it moved at its own leisure, as if the lake was playing with it. But just like everything else, it would eventually sink into the depths.
Sometimes things would wash up on shore, bones of birds and animals that had tried to swim. Unsettling to say the least.
Some believed the lake was cursed, but I was never one to believe in magic. Still, it was hard to shake that the lake felt- alive. It could feel happy and sad and angry, and the environment and the surface of the lake acted on these. Unpredictable as ever.
I was afraid. There were so many uncertainties visiting a lake like this. But it was practically impossible to ignore the strange comfort I got staring into the darkness, pondering its depths, and admiring its beauty.
Curiosity’s temptation always calls until it receives an answer.
I found myself visiting more and more frequently, and spending more and more time amongst the quiet solitude of the lake, although I never felt alone. It became a habit to visit the lake everyday. I’d bring a blanket and set up atop one of the rocks that presented the best view. I’d sketch, read, nap. I’d watch people come by with their own stories. They’d leave things for the lake. Throw things into the lake. Walk around the border. I’d hum and sing and whisper conversations to myself. It felt like someone was listening, and conversations with myself and some distant party became common.
I wanted to share ideas and stories and life, until speaking out loud became less to help myself understand and more for someone else to listen to.
I was always so careful to clean up after myself. Not leave anything behind. I didn’t want to upse- I didn’t want to lose something I might regret letting go of. But I guess I was distracted, lost in my head, and I forgot.
I only realized that I had when I went to visit the lake the next day. It was missing. I must’ve left it behind. I looked everywhere for it. Even places I had never actually visited by the lakeside. I searched and searched til the sun started to set.
I didn’t know what to do. Perhaps the lake had- no that’s impossible. The lake couldn’t have taken it. It’s up on the rocks. So someone else- but there was no one else around. I couldn’t have lost it.
Even if it didn’t have much monetary value, I had spent weeks by the lake side using it, and it didn’t feel right to not have it. I can’t believe I lost it, and I couldn’t help but cry at my own incompetence.
I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten to the edge until it was too late, and one misstep caused me to fall into the lake. I only had a second to catch a breath before I was submerged into the darkness.
In moments that catch you off guard you find yourself doing things you never would’ve before. And I opened my eyes, not like it helped since I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where I was and no sense of direction. The surface was missing, and panic began to settle deeper within me.
My mind began to focus on my breath, or the lack of breath. I hadn’t been ready to be submerged, and I could feel the choke hold my lungs had on me, begging me for more air. Air I couldn’t give it.
Was this it? Was this where I was to die. I suppose it could be worse. My flesh could be melting off my body, but the darkness was surprisingly tame. I wouldn’t say cold just as much as I wouldn’t say hot. It was- comforting. Like being held. And the darkness seemed to wrap itself around me. I couldn’t tell if it was trying to help, or trying to push me further down. But I was unwelcome either way.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold my breath, but maybe there was no point holding onto something I couldn’t control. Maybe I should just-
Two massive orange- um- eyes appeared before me. One with a slash straight through. I swam backward, startled. What was this thing? Some sort of lake creature? I wasn’t even aware anything lived inside. I thought- this must be what eats the creatures that get stuck.
They got closer, and I tried moving away, but I was stuck. I couldn’t move, and the tugging and flailing of my arms was only met with resistance. The glowing eyes circled me, settling behind me and than looked up. Up! That was the surface!
I swam up as fast as I could, following the refracting orange light all the way. My lungs longed for another breath. I could feel it leaping in anticipating until finally, I breached the surface and gasped for air in a fit of coughs. Quickly, I swam toward the beach, pulling myself completely out of the lake and a little extra for good measure.
It was dark now, the final glitter of the sun settling behind the mountain. All the beauty the lake offered by day as an oddity left when given the dark abyssal nature it had by night. It looked as if nothing was there. As of the universe itself ended in this very spot.
I pulled my knees up to my chest as I tried to get myself to move. A wave brushed itself on the sand, over and over until something was left on the beach.
That was mine. What I’d been searching for! I found it or- it was returned to me. I looked out over the lake again. Quiet and still as ever.
———————-
I don’t know how comfortable @somerandomdudelmao is with fanfiction of their own persona, but the very intriguing idea of a sentient, completely black lake divined me with inspiration and I had to write out an idea. I tried to keep it mysterious in nature because I have a lot of unknown variables. I also wanted people to put themselves in these shoes, so this isn’t about me per se. I wanted the lake to be as inspiring as it is mysterious, trying to embody a bit of Cass in it.
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remediesremedy · 5 hours
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hazbin hotel characters with a partner with mental health problems
GENDER NEUTRAL READER
WARNINGS: depictions of harm to self, drugs, alcohol, depression, anxiety, burns, crying, self deprecation, sad stuff but there’s lots of comfort and love.
features: lucifer, alastor, vox
comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated <3
LUCIFER
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“and then she hugged me! Charlie actually hugged me, oh it felt so nice to see her smile and she was happy to see me. it was so awesome you should’ve been there to see it, and then there was this pesky radio dem-“ Lucifer paused mid sentence, the words that were about to spout from him abruptly stopped. the door he had just opened, inhabited a lump under the covers who hadn’t yet moved.
their shared bedroom had always had happy memories, but it seemed your mind had followed you home this time, and refused to let up on tormenting you behind the closed doors of your’s and lucifer’s residence.
“Love? has something happened?” The fallen angel whispered gently, moving forward to your side of the bed, peeling away the covers from your face to reveal dull eyes.
depression had followed you all throughout your time of being alive, and even with death it had stuck to you like glue, chains bound to you for eternity. As if being in hell wasn’t enough.
“Honey? can you look at me f’me please?” He rasped, a clawed hand cupping the full cheeks of your face, feeling the lack of warmth that rested beneath your skin. Lifeless eyes dragged themselves to gaze upon the king of hell, and they almost phased straight through him. “Oh sweetie.” his heart ached, he had been aware of everything about you when you were living, never bringing up how you died or what you suffered with. and he had no reason to, you hadn’t showed any signs of falling back into depression or struggling mentally, until now.
“I’m here, i’m here for you.” Lucifer mumbled as he scooted forward to place a tender kiss on your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then both your cheeks. “can i come into bed with you?”
a small nod, devoid of any energy.
Lucifer scrambled under the covers, immediately going to scoop his lover into his arms, his strength made it easy to manhandle you as tenderly as he could into a position where your head laid softly on his broad chest. “y’know.” the devil hummed, opting to stroke his partner’s hair, “out of the billions of years of being alive. i have never, ever met someone like you.”
as if by reflex, you had scoffed, almost turning your head away from him.
a part of him panicked, his hand stilling and dipping down until it cupped your chin. “i’m serious.” he had mumbled, quieter than bother before regaining his confidence. “after i fell, i found it hard to love things around me anymore. a part of me was lost in that garden, i- the point is, i met you and my heart.” he breathed a little laugh.
“oh my dear, my heart, it has never been fuller.” he admitted honestly, his hand moving once again to caress your skin, his fingers touched you like you were porcelain. a doll, precious and fragile, but he’d have you no other way. “you are the most wonderful being i have ever met, nothing could compare to you.”
tears that had been welling up began to shed, to unashamedly trickle down his face. “nothing.”
the hands that were drawn into your body to almost cradle yourself moved swiftly, they snaked around whatever they could get their fingers on and squeezed thrice, a simple indication of ‘i love you.’
things would be alright after all.
-is very caring during episodes, finds himself almost sick with worry the more you get worse or if you don’t get better
-helps you with cleaning yourself, brings you meals if you haven’t eaten for a while, cradles you at night.
-will hide away with you until you’re ready to go out anywhere. will chaperone you everywhere if he can, stick to you like glue, always has to be touching you in some sort of way to let you know he’s there
-tries to stay awake with you when insomnia hits you, reads to you, will even sing.
-if you can’t take care of your hygiene, he takes his time washing your hair, hands massaging your scalp, humming as he drags the faucet over your head to get the shampoo and conditioner out. puts on face masks with you, showers with you, even if he has to haul you up (it’s not much effort to carry you). he lathers you up and caresses every part of you, you are his everything. will just smother you in his deodorant, you smelling like him always eases his little protective brain for some reason.
-celebrates every good day with you, a part of him breaks when good days get fewer and far between. he fears losing you, or that you’ll never get better. but he doesn’t know that being with him grounds you more than he could ever know.
ALASTOR
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“hey alastor!” Charlie itched to talk to the demon, something in her eyes gave him the impression that it was urgent. Her pale hands waved at him a little too aggressively for his liking.
something was up.
he did not like that one bit.
“Charlie! what can i do for you?” His smile stretched impossibly larger, an arm sweeping to courteously gesture for the princess of hell to continue talking. he fought the urge to grit and ground his teeth, anxiety was never one of his favourite emotions to experience, for others it was.
“Alastor! Hi! Hi.” Charlie jogged to him, standing in front of the demon with a little nervousness in her step. she cleared her throat before sighing, “look i just, i noticed something off about your partner today. i don’t think they’re doing okay, and i was worried and i thought you should know so that you would have a heads up-“
“thank you Charlie.” Alastor’s words came out borderline grateful, softer than his normally charring static voice. “is that all?”
“yes! i- uh, i hope they’re okay!” She beamed, lingering for a second longer than alastor liked before getting the message to leave. As soon as Charlie’s back was turned, Alastor phased through the floor, becoming one with the shadows, after a moment of plunging into an abyss, he rose back up from the depth into his room. Nothing seemed awry, until he picked up on the sound of the shower running, the water spewed out rhythmically.
and then the radio demon noticed the noise behind the water hitting the shower floor.
crying.
The buck’s whole body froze at the foreign sound, the sobs that wracked through the air caused his smile to instantly drop. Worry clouded his senses and without feeling it, his form expanded, antlers growing larger and sharper and his eyes shone bright as he all but busted through the bathroom door, scouring the place for you. “Dear?” his voice cracked, frenzied state shrinking to his normal size as he found you curled into a ball while water hit your back.
his hands itched to scoop you up and take you to bed, but he didn’t want to make you more upset.
you had looked at him with wobbly lips and swollen eyes, “don’t look at me.” you whimpered, a fresh set of tears crashing down your red face, “i’m disgusting, i’m ugly, i’m fucking putrid to see.” you had humourlessly laughed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before another sob was pulled from the depths of your chest.
for a second time, Alastor felt himself froze, conflicted with you insulting yourself. insulting his perfect partner. disgusting? absolutely not. ugly? what a lie. putrid? how far from the truth could you be?
his claws reached to envelop your body, he almost hissed at the temperature of the water, boiling hot, enough to burn. you had been sitting there, getting sprayed by alarmingly warm water. “come now.” he started, an unusually soft tone coming from him, “you’ll get hurt if you stay under that water my love.”
“that’s the point.” you mumbled, “maybe if i’m damaged enough on the outside you’ll see how ugly i am on the inside too.”
“nonsense.” Alastor cut through your speech with an edge of anger, without another word, the demon’s hands wrapped around you, dragging your sore body from the wrath of the water. “we are going to bed, yes? and you will tell me why you think this so horribly about yourself my dear.”
“what? why aren’t you yelling at me? why aren’t you telling me i’m right?” your voice began to raise, and your face, already branded with a waterfall of tears, housed some more, fat globs of tears raced down your cheeks. “why won’t you hate me like i hate me?”
“i could never see anything apart from perfection in you my darling.” the deer murmured honestly, shimmying a towel up and down your body as quickly as possible, he wanted to cradle you as soon as he could. “you are more than i deserve. i would do anything for you.” he finished drying your body, swiftly changing you into dry and warm clothes. “and doing anything for you, entails loving you when you can’t find it in yourself to do the same. my love for you will never simmer, or dull, or lose its intensity. it will never falter, not even for a second.” something cold was applied to the raw and sore skin that was affected by the water, a paste for healing supposedly.
“the moment i laid eyes on you, i promised to protect you.” the radio demon whispered, finally able to hold you properly. he pulled the covers up before sliding both of you in, absentmindedly he undid his suit buttons, letting the fluff of his chest puff out from under his dress shirt. he laid your head on his fur, content to have you smothered by him. “so let me protect you, let me help you fight these cruel thoughts.”
“i’m sorry Alastor, i’ll try be better.” you had mumbled guiltily, nudging into his fur defeatedly.
“no no darling, no apologies, no being ‘better’. be as you are, and let me fight these thoughts with you.” his head dipped down, a smile coating his features as he softly nipped at your neck.
an airy, wet laugh left you, “okay Alastor, okay okay! no apologies.�� you had agreed, hands tightening around him in thanks.
but you didn’t need to thank him.
Alastor would do anything for you.
literally.
-unused to caring for someone, unused to love and relationships as a whole. had never had any interest until he had seen you, it had opened a casket full of emotions he wasn’t prepared for.
-when it comes to your hygiene and taking care of you when you can’t, he’s very methodical, brushing your teeth for exactly two minutes, washing your body and hair stiffly. overtime he does try and show his affection through touch more, enjoys cradling you, kisses anywhere he can get his mouth on, mostly chaste kisses, not fully comfortable with long kisses of any sort.
-enjoys massaging your scalp with his claws, how you’ll finally be able to sleep while he caters to you by caressing and stroking your skin or hair. if you wander outside of your shared room, he tries to be around as much as possible, always a hand on the small of your back or a watchful eye on you.
-gets his shadow forms to take care of you and check on you when he’s in the studio or busy. cooks for you everyday, will spoon feed you, even in bed (he’ll change the sheets the day after).
-sneakily gets you to do affirmations with him, makes you stand in front of a mirror with him and says what a great couple you guys look like. tells you that he loves you in front of the mirror while holding or stroking a different part of you each time. will begrudgingly do skin care and make you do it with him, after a while you begin to enjoy it and start just doing each other’s skin care in the mirror.
-sees you nothing short as perfect, even when you can’t get up or cry for hours or don’t want to eat, even when you give up and refuse to try anymore. he finds a way to motivate you and want to try again.
VOX
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(disclaimer: getting tired around this point so writing from here on in may deteriorate or lessen in quality)
meetings had been long lately, plans for vox security were kickstarting. he was so busy and it was exhausting, news commercial here, press conference there, meeting here, new tv show there. Vox was tired and he missed you.
between all his schedule and stalking the radio demon unhealthily, it seemed he had almost forgotten about you, even though you flooded his mind at every instance.
he just hadn’t done a very good job at showing how much he had missed you these past few weeks. it left you in a state of loneliness you weren’t quite used to, eyes always trailing to the cameras around the building and in your room, but familiar light of Vox watching the cameras wasn’t there. he hadn’t been checking on in, maybe he didn’t even want to look at you.
self worth was at an all time low, and your anxiety had sky rocketed out of its temporary dormancy, coming back in tenfold. insecurities were on display more than ever, and Vox was nowhere to be seen, falling asleep at his desk or at Val’s and or Velvette’s place.
it was hard not to feel so utterly unwanted.
so you did what every other sinner would do, drink, go crazy on the town and snort some things you shouldn’t have. and at the end of the night, feverish and cold, shaky and nauseous, as you looked into a camera that belonged to vox security, the light didn’t flash on.
he wasn’t there. would he ever be again?
all the substances in your system caught up to you, your stomach began to bubble with pain and you no longer had it within you to keep up the charade that you were fine. you willed yourself to cry, to do something other than rot on the floor of an alleyway street, but no tears came.
instead blood trickled from out of your nose, a telltale sign that you had outdone yourself with whatever atrocities of chemicals you had put in your body. you threw your head back, an expression between a grimace and a smile graced your face, maybe if you fucked yourself up enough Vox would finally come back to you.
needles lay on the ground, no longer sterile but it did not matter. with already shaky hands you grasped one of them, putting it at an angle to inject, you brought it down and the moment it pierced your skin, a familiar hand pulled it straight out of you with a frenzied cry.
“what the fuck were you doing?!” Vox huffed, anger and concern battling to show through his words. worry etched into his features, but you didn’t manage to spot that, only the anger.
“i-i.” no words could come out, the blood from your nose congealed and dripped down onto your shirt, and the injection site pooled with crimson blood too. how could you explain to your partner that you had planned to completely self destruct in hopes he would care for you again?
“are you a fucking idiot? oh my fucking god you’re bleeding.” his palms glided across the blood on your nose and thigh, wiping it away on his skin, his lower lip trembled as he swore at you thoughtlessly. “do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” he bit back the yell, a sigh falling from his lips as he watched your expression morph from embarrassed to complete self hatred.
“i’m sorry, im so sorry.” you whispered, wanting nothing more than to be out of the way, “im sorry that im not good enough, ill be better, i promise, don’t leave me, don’t leave me-“
Vox’s heart, what was left of it, had shattered entirely at your words. regret punched him in the stomach, weeks of little attention and this is what he says in your darkest hour? “shh, shh, of course not, no, no, i would NEVER, never leave you.” his thumbs alternated between rubbing away your forming tears and beading blood.
“c’mere baby.” his voice cracked, he offered you his embrace silently. the look you gave him was utterly heartbreaking, doubtful that he would still love you, god, as if he could ever stop loving you. wordlessly you sank into him, trying to greedily cozy up into him as much as you could, to remember every inch of him. “please, forgive me.”
the words wouldn’t formulate, too drugged up and drunk to even respond, you slumped in his arms, barely able to blink. Suddenly fingers were pinching your cheeks, “hey, hey, don’t fall asleep, i need to make sure you’ll be alright.” he spoke softly, a complete contrast to before. “i’m so sorry, i should be the one saying sorry baby. i’m so stupid, mistreating my whole world.”
the more worked up and upset he got, the more static seeped into his voice. “i’m so sorry. so sorry babe. i haven’t been around and that’s unfair on you, ill book a few days off work okay? just me and you, and i promise ill make it up to you.” his head bowed down, nuzzling against you affectionately, “just stay awake f’me, we’ll get what’s out of your system, and ill make it all up to you, i promise.”
hearing his voice, feeling his touch was pure euphoria for you, a safe haven you had missed beyond anything. “anything for you Vox.”
-is a complete sweetheart, just struggles at first if you’ve done something harmful or destructive to yourself. anything he says in the moment is not thought about and is him panicking.
-makes it up to you every time, bubble baths, washing you and taking care of you like you’re his god. keeps a first aid kit on standby, one is in your room, other first aid kits in other areas of the building too. makes sure from then on in to reassure you, to let you know of his schedule, to bring you with him as much as he can. sometimes comes back from a meeting and just naps with you until he has another thing to do.
-cannot keep his hands off you, super touchy in public now, in meetings you’re new seat is his lap. will try to lessen his schedule more, will spend a lot of his time sleeping with you when you sleep a lot, you two fall asleep spooning or just completely intertwined.
-makes meals for you when he can, hires a personal chef to keep you fed when he’s working. makes a habit of checking his cameras in your shared room a lot more, doesn’t spend as much time infatuated with stalking the radio demon anymore, he’s better at figuring out his priorities now.
-kisses your knuckles when he comes back from work, and then kisses you properly, an intimate lip locking that won’t end until you get the point that he very much wants you. tries to work more remotely, practices affirmations with you and tries to work on his reactions to stressful scenarios so he doesn’t make you feel worse.
-work is important, power is important, but you are above them both, cherishes like you are the only thing to ever exist when you’re both together.
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spiltichor · 7 months
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Send 🛑 for my muse (receiver) to step in and protect your muse (sender) from someone. This could be for any reason! From them being bothered and not being left alone, an ambush attack, a fighting scene, whatever you want! You can also send ' 🛑 + reverse ' to change it so the sender protects the receiver!
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nom-central · 6 months
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Voretober D11- Regret
For...once, in your life, you were beginning to think you knew the definition of overdoing it.
Your stomach gurgled rather contentedly for something that felt so sore. Your meal had settled down after putting up a decent struggle, but you were sure you could work them down. They were bigger than your usual meals, but you were sure you could handle it...and now that was coming back to bite you. Man, did your stomach hurt...but the hardest part was over. You could handle a bit of a bellyache.
You reclined where you sat, resting your hand on your stomach and listening to it burble and gurgle. Your meal pressed out against your stomach, but the movement was short-lived. Cute. You chuckled to yourself despite the soreness and rubbed your stomach, pressing your hand into it to calm them down. You fought hard for this! There was no way you were letting go of them any time soon. They were right where they needed to be...and you didn't think you could handle much more of a fight right now.
Little did you know, your meal had plans for you. Just as you stopped and were closing your eyes to settle in for a post-meal nap now that the pain had subsided somewhat, they suddenly kicked up a fuss! Your stomach sloshed as they kicked and shoved around, causing it to almost whine in discomfort. You groaned quietly, trying to work your hands into them to get them to calm down, but it wasn't working. Ugh, they were way too feisty for your tastes...but you weren't giving them up yet.
Suddenly shifting, you roll yourself over and lay right on top of your stomach, pressing them into the soft fabric and putting your full weight on them. Their movements were forced to stop now that they had no space to move, and your stomach grumbled as if to thank you. Finally, sweet relief...maybe now you can get that nap in. Hopefully you won't roll over in your sleep so they can try that stunt again...
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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“You hurt me.”
“I know.”
Steve sighs, and he looks at Eddie in his doorway. So much has changed in five years. But Eddie seems the same. Just his hair is a bit longer, he’s got more tattoos, and he’s got scruff on his face that Steve knows when they saw each other last in 87’ would have driven him nuts.
Steve has always liked the idea of Eddie with a beard. It doesn’t matter now, though. “I think you should leave.”
“Steve, I—I just need a chance to explain.” Eddie moves side to side on his feet.
“Explain?” Steve scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest. “You had the chance to explain five years ago before you left. You had the chance to explain the weeks after with no phone calls to me to any of the kids. You had the chance to explain the year after when you talked to everyone but me, and I thought you just needed time. You had the chance a year ago before you cut everyone else off again.”
Eddie hangs his head in shame. “Stevie, please. I know I don’t deserve it. But I just want to talk.”
Steve’s resistance wavers slightly. He moves out of the doorway to let Eddie in. Eddie rushes inside, knowing Steve will change his mind at any moment. Steve shuts the door behind them. “I’m only letting you in because if Robin finds you in our doorway, she will kick your ass. And as much as you hurt me, I don’t actually want to see you in physical pain.”
Eddie smiles a bit, “Still the dynamic duo? You and Robbie? What’s stopping her from beating me up inside?”
“Our cat Sylvia might see. And she’s trying to shield her from as much violence as possible. Says one Sylvia has seen enough.”
“Oh please tell me she is out by now, because that is a giant gay flashing sign.” Eddie chuckles.
Steve can’t help but laugh a little, “Yes, she is. It would be hard if she weren’t, considering she’s dating Nancy. And Nancy is a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. She shows her off any chance she gets.”
“Wow, Robs bagged Wheeler? Never saw that coming.” Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Must have been a blow to the ego for ya, Stevie. Your ex and your best friend.” He mock clutches his heart.
Steve lets out a big laugh this time, “Nah. I encouraged it. They’re my favorite people; they deserve to be happy.”
Eddie softens, “Yea, being a favorite person of Steve Harrington is a very special thing.”
Steve feels ice water in his veins, “What are you doing here Eddie?”
Eddie sighs, “What do you want to hear? Why I needed to come, or why I wanted to? Cause the truth is I needed to come to apologize to you. Give you the explanation you deserve. What I wanted, though, what I wanted is to tell you that I love—“
“Don’t.” Steve chokes.
“Right apologies first.”
“First? First?! Eddie. I don’t know what you could say to me right now that would make anything make sense. We had something good. It took us so long to get to that point. And it was great because we learned about each other and knew each other inside out. Our friendship blossomed into something more, and we were just getting started, and you left. I had thought I was done with love before I met you. But then you came along and made me feel seen and cared for, and then you got weird and distant so quickly, and you fucking left. And then I knew for sure I was done with love. Don’t think it was meant for me. Sure, that’s not on you, but you don’t get to—you don’t get to open old wounds because you feel the sudden desire to come around again.” Steve swallows tears.
Eddie’s face goes through hundreds of emotions. Anger. Shock. Grief. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. They stew in Steve’s words instead. Then finally, Eddie settles on. “I’m an addict.”
Steve, who has thought about a million ways this could go, has never thought of this. “What?” All the tension releases from his body. He just stares hopelessly at Eddie.
“I’m an addict. I'm sober now, I just reached a year, but yeah. I'm an addict. Never thought I would be. But after everything with Vecna and the painkillers they put me on…it got hard. Denied it for a while. Said to myself a little of everything here and there to forget wouldn’t hurt anyone. But then we were becoming something alongside, me spiraling deeper into addiction. And I—fuck this was easier to practice at the meetings.” Eddie runs his hands through his hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But I would have hurt you. More than me leaving did. And I couldn’t live with that. I could live with you hating me. It was selfish of me. I wasn’t ready to give up the drugs so I gave up you, and it’s not fair. Not fair that I did that to you, to anyone of you really, but especially you Steve. You just deserved someone who could love you all the time, love you fully. And I thought I did but I think I was using you a little to make myself feel better. That’s not to say I didn’t love you. I did, still do, always will. But we both deserved a better version than what we had.”
Steve feels tears on his cheeks, he isn’t sure what to say. “You didn’t get to make that decision for me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Steve chokes on a sob, “Dammit Eddie. It was my birthday.”
Something breaks inside them, and suddenly they are in each other's arms, weeping together. There is this fragile broken thing between them, a love that never went away. It is horrible and beautiful and needs so much work to be wonderful once more.
But it was nice to break together again.
“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. I’ll make sure every day for the rest of my life that I make it up to you. In any way I can.”
“I don’t know how we can get back Eds. Don’t know if we should.”
“I’ll take you any way you’ll have me. Friend. Lover. A person you only call when you need a ride to the airport. Just let me try; it’s all I ask. I promised I wouldn’t go back to you until I knew I had put the work into myself first. You don’t owe me anything. I would understand if you kicked me out right now. But I need you to know that Steve, I love you anyway you’ll have me. And I have never stopped thinking about you.”
Steve lifted his head from Eddie’s chest. “I’d like to try to get to know you again. This you. See where it goes. But Eds, no matter what, no matter the version of you, I will always care. And I will always be your friend.”
Eddie kisses Steve’s forehead, “Thank you.”
It’s there where Steve and Eddie hug on the wooden apartment floor; they hear the door unlock. “Oh no, she’s home early.”
Eddie doesn’t get to respond because, suddenly, Robin is in the doorway. “Hey, dingus! I brought home an extra latte—“
She freezes at the sight of Eddie before rebooting with a dark look, “Steve, is your nail bat still under your bed?”
——
Wanted to try the whole break up thing, I have a lot of different break up/makeup ideas in my head. maybe pt. 2???? Kinda feels good to stop here. But if you think so I have more ideas for this.
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lolottes · 5 months
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young blood sees, through a natural portal, a mop of black hair...
A black that he knows well !
sooo ~ He decides to take advantage of the chance and go through with his new acquisition!!!
young blood proud of him: Dannyyyy~ guess who's back with a NASA toy ?!!
?: ?
young blood: hummm, you're not danny :( looks around and it's not amity park turns around and the natural portal is closed :'(
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