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fettuccin-e · 10 months

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Hey! Congrats again on your follower milestone! <3

From the smutty prompts, can you do number one from the nature category with Miguel, please? :))) xoxo

Hi!!! omg this prompt is soooo soft and sweet and MIGUEL FUCKING DESERVES IT!!! so thank you so so so much for requesting this is some sappy crap that i had just a grand ol time writing!!!

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, established relationship, outdoor sex (but they are literally the only ones there so no exhibitionism), unprotected piv (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), riding, sappy very cheesy very fluffy many cavities (w/c: 1.1K)

Prompt: sensual sex in a secluded meadow during a picnic.

He doesn’t like to go away often, but sometimes, the need to just spoil you gets to be too much. He’s away from you far too much, burying himself in work and experiments, to the point that he’s sure you’ll leave him. But you’re always there, waiting for him with a beaming smile and reaching for him like he never left.

So of course he has to spoil you.

It didn’t take LYLA long to find this dimension at his request: one where New York is empty, Central Park grown over the entirety of the city, the pavement covered in soft flowers, and skyscrapers covered in creeping vines. And God, you had practically glowed when he showed you the little picnic he had set out, a soft blanket nestled in a little grove of wildflowers, a rainbow of petals and leaves covering the lush earth. A little piece of paradise just for the two of you.

“I didn’t, um,” he stumbles over his words, heart beating out of his chest at how fucking beautiful you look, eyes alight as you look up at him with a gaze so adoring, his knees might give out on the spot. “I just brought some food from the cafeteria, since I can’t cook for shit and I um- I wanted to surprise you.”

You collide into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs as you kiss him fiercely. “It’s perfect, Miguel,” you murmur against his lips, “absolutely perfect.” He feels like you're talking more about him than the picnic, but smiles nonetheless.

You feed him little bits of fruit and empanada from the cafeteria back home, but he swears that it tastes so much better from your loving hand. He feels a little out of place here, crushing flowers beneath his hulking body. But you’re ethereal, little butterflies flitting around you, drawn to you, just as he is.

He recklessly plucks a purple flower from the ground, the prettiest one he can find, and tucks it behind your ear. Hobie would tease that he’s getting soft, but the way you giggle, light and airy and effervescent, makes his chest tight with delirious happiness, and it’s all worth it.

You meet his lips in a gentle kiss, and you taste of the strawberries he brought for you. You’re so warm, warm like pure sunlight in his hands and he can’t help but pull you into his lap, picnic forgotten, holding you like you’ll disappear in a moment. But you break from his lips, cupping his jaw and smiling in a soft, gentle way that feels like you’re here to stay forever.

He peels your dress off, slowly and deliberately, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your tits, as he bares your body to his gaze. He only takes his own clothes off when you beg him for it, rucking his shirt up over his stomach as you whine into his mouth.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and your breath catches in the back of your throat as he rubs gentle circles into your clit over your panties. “So beautiful, can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispers, and with the way he’s playing with your pussy, the only thing you can do is desperately lick into his mouth as you rock your hips into his hand.

You lean into him, pushing on his shoulders ever so gently as you lay him back onto the plush blanket. He could fight back, push you onto your back instead, but something about this, the sun shining on your hair, the way you taste, how soft you are in his hands; it’s all making him melt back into the flowers as you lean over him. I can have this, he thinks to himself, I’m not going to lose this. There’s no rush.

When you eventually pull your panties to the side, letting him sink into you ever so slowly, Miguel is sure that he’s found heaven. You’re practically shining, an angel in real-time, as you roll your hips forward, clenching around him as you rake your nails down his chest in a way that makes him gasp beneath you.

“God, look at you,” you say, before it tapers off into an agonized whine as Miguel’s cock plunges into you just right. “So perfect for me, treating me so fucking- ah, good.”

Miguel grasps desperately at your hips, trying to help you as you drop onto him over and over and over again. Your praise makes him whine, his hips jerking up to plunge into you even deeper as his mind goes fuzzy with need. ”Can’t believe you’re mine Miguel," you whimper, "Can’t believe you chose me.”

He lunges up on his arms at your words, pressing his lips to yours in a sticky kiss that has the both of you moaning in tandem. “I’ll always choose you, princesa. Mi vida, eres mi vida.”

The grove is quiet, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting over and over mixing with the sounds of his groans as you fuck yourself on his cock. You practically wail when his calloused fingers come to rest on your achy clit, rubbing hard, slow circles that have your head spinning. His cock reaches so deep like this, stretching you out, owning you in only the way that he can.

“You going to cum for me, beautiful?” he husks, sounding like he’s just run a marathon. “C’mon, baby, soak my cock with this pretty pussy.” You’re nodding furiously, bouncing desperately on his fat cock as he rubs your clit just fucking right-

You gasp, soundless and overwhelmed as you cum around him, leaning forward to kiss him, hoping to ground yourself with his mouth. Miguel curses against your lips, mumbling something in Spanish as he pulls his hand away from your clit to wrap around your back, like he can’t possibly get close enough.

He thrusts up into you once, twice, before stilling with his own orgasm. You imagine that you can feel him filling you up, claiming you in the most intimate way possible.

You break the kiss, pressing your forehead against his as you both catch your breaths. As he blinks up at you again, eyes round like he can’t believe that you’re actually here, that it wasn’t all a dream, you can’t help but giggle softly, pecking him quickly on the lips.

And he smiles, in the only way he does with you. No holds barred, unabashed happiness radiating off of him. “I love you,” he whispers, like it’s a secret.

“I love you too,” you whisper back. You breathe together, letting the calm coolness of the air rush over you both, the sounds of the breeze rustling the flowers and trees, the incessant beating of your hearts.

This is home, Miguel thinks, wrapping you tighter in his arms, I’m finally home.

#i literally just want him to be happy #is that too much to ask #this is some sappy shit #but what can i say #i am a cheeseball at heart #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader

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xoxoemynn · 6 months

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Stede saves the twine and keeps it with him always.

And then one day over breakfast, after all this has calmed down, and he and Ed are safe and secure for their love for each other, he pulls it out of his pocket and ties it around Ed's left ring finger.

"Can't really afford anything nice like you deserve right now," he says, "and it's not like we can raid a ship and find you a diamond in the loot. But... perhaps it'll do for now?"

He's not able to say anything else before Ed's throwing his arms around him and kissing him breathless.

When they part, Ed's eyes are filled with tears. "You kept that?" he asks. "Always knew you were the sappy one."

Stede laughs, and Ed laughs, and they hold each other as they watch the sun rise.

#emynn.op #OFMD #OFMD Spoilers #OFMD S2 Spoilers #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #Ed x Stede #here have some sappy shit <3333 #I just love the idea of them both keeping a box of all the little tokens of their past together

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lesbiankordian · 11 months

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if Chuuya becomes free of the vampirism by drinking Dazai's blood and that action also frees Dazai from the poison then it'd literally be a double cure by kissing / exchaning body fluids like you can't get any more soulmate-y than that

#i dont like the idea of soulmates but skk are making me think of that more than I want to #also like we literally got a panel with a higugin bite!!! we can get more!!#no actually I just want them to look at ecsh other fondly and say some sappy shit really I'd be satisfied w/ that #soukoku #bsd 108 prediction #bungou stray dogs #vampire chuuya

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ughgoaway · 1 month

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19 with Matty as like a comfort thing 🥺

Maybe girlie is feeling a little insecure that day

love this!! I answered this prompt earlier as a teacher au thing, but I liked the idea of girlie being insecure so I wrote it again but a little diff! hope you enjoy :)

19- character A holding character B’s hands as character B eats them out, fingers intertwined.

18+ pls!! includes female receiving oral and body insecurity/general insecurity. 1.4k-ish

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

You pull at your skin in the mirror, the reflection staring back at you wasn't one you recognised. Your eyes look sunken and tired, and your skin is dull when it used to be full of life.

You could stand for hours critiquing every inch of you, what part of you is too small, too big, too harsh or too soft. And you did. After every shower, you stood in front of the mirror, assessing every inch of yourself.

Matty hated it. of course, he did. You were perfect in his eyes, beyond perfect. but he couldn't stop you.

It happened like clockwork every few weeks. However, today, it seemed especially bad. The usual 10-minute assessment dragged on, becoming longer and longer with every tug and prod. He could almost hear your inner voice screaming about how you're not good enough for him and that he deserved better.

Eventually, you came to bed. Flopping on the mattress and immediately trying to burrow yourself under the blanket. but before you can, Matty grips the blanket and pulls it from your hands, forcing you to flip over and face him.

“I know what you're doing,” he says bluntly, eyeing you suspiciously.

“M’okay. I'm just tired. Long week.” you say softly, throwing matty a half-hearted smile.

You're lying. You both know that for a fact, but you pray that just this once Matty lets it go.

He doesn't, of course.

“Baby, I can see right through you. Standing in the mirror for half an hour and mumbling to yourself angrily doesn't exactly scream “im okay”” he pouts teasingly at you, and you can't help but giggle at his pufferfish face (a term you coined for that exact look early on in your relationship)

You sigh heavily before answering, “Yeah, im just - I don't even know. Feeling shitty I guess. Ugly, insecure, unloveable. You know, all the usual Friday night emotions” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, but everyone who knows you knows you joking is a sign something is really bothering you.

“You are none of those things, my love. Let me prove it to you, yeah?” Matty asks, moving to hover over your body.

You can already feel an ache between your thighs at the sight of your boyfriend above you, but you still can't shake how you're feeling.

“You don't have to, matty. I know I don't look great right now. Don't feel pressured or anything, I'm sure I'll just sleep it off.”

“Never feel pressured with you, I just want to show you how beautiful you are to me, will you let me?” Matty looks down at you with soft eyes, and you can't pretend you don't want him between your legs for a second longer, giving him an assured nod.

“Gotta use your words for me, baby,” Matty lightly demands, dropping his mouth to your neck and pressing kisses to your skin.

“Mmm yes. Make me feel good, please,” you beg, gasping as Matty nips your neck playfully, soothing each patch of skin with his tongue.

“Thats my girl. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart.” Matty whispers in your ear, pulling back with a Cheshire-cat-like grin that has you blushing.

You try to turn away from him, the weight of his eye contact feeling like too much. But Matty places a hand on your jaw, dragging your face back to his and connecting your eyes once more.

Matty holds eye contact as he drops between your thighs, peppering them with kisses and hushed compliments as he moves to where you need him most. His fingers fall between your legs, parting your thighs and spreading you open for him.

“so pretty” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit that rips a gasp from your chest. you can already feel your nerves thrumming with desire.

“Please Matty just- I can't take any teasing, please,” you beg, closing your eyes and trying to catch your breath.

“Anything you want, princess, take my hand, yeah?” Matty’s hand moves from between your legs up to grab your own, lightly gripping your hand to ground you and remind you that he wants you. He wants to make you feel good.

You smile softly down at him, looking into his eyes and memorising the exact way he looks right now, to live in your head for as long as it can.

With his hand in yours, he starts mouthing your cunt, moaning and licking your slick like he's devouring a sweet peach, juices running down his chin as he consumes you.

He’s practically making out with your cunt, burrowing himself between your legs and doing everything he can to make you feel good. Every few minutes you can feel a mumbled complement vibrate against you.

“Tastes so good angel.”

“So beautiful for me.”

“Good girl.”

Every vibration of his words against you pulls you closer to the edge. You can feel your skin growing pinker as matty continues between your thighs, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. Matty is grinding against the mattress below him at the sight of you, but you're too lost in the haze to notice anything right now.

You roll your hips needily against Matty's face, and he immediately understands your silent pleading, moving faster against you and making the fire inside you grow even brighter.

Matty flicks his eyes up to you as he works his mouth over you, slick covering his cheeks as slips a finger inside you, smirking at the broken moan that falls from your lips. Every time his nose brushes your clit you feel a bolt of lightning strike you, your pulse quickens with every touch.

the tension in your gut is growing, and you squeeze mattys hand to warn him, whimpering “close” as best you can between the needy moans and whines.

Matty pulls away briefly, “Cum whenever you need to princess, so good for me.” As soon as he finishes he's diving back between your thighs with a new fervour, fucking you with his tongue and purposefully using his nose to stimulate your clit.

The mix of his tongue and his finger burrowed inside you is dizzying. The air is thickening around you with each passing second, and the only noises filling the room are a mix of your lewd groans and the sticky noises of matty worshipping you.

The neverending streams of compliments and his unrelenting pace against you soon push you to breaking point, coming undone with a whimpered “thank you” and shaking thighs.

Your legs grip around mattys head like a vice, keeping him buried between your legs. And he honestly couldn't be happier with that arrangement, squeezing your hand as you cum to remind you why he's doing this, to remind you how absolutely obsessed he is with every part of you.

Eventually, your legs loosen as the aftershocks stop rattling through your body. The goosebumps over your skin begin to fade, and you start falling back to earth.

Matty quickly moves from between your legs, hovering over you before leaning forward and desperately kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You groan at the taste, moving your hands to grip Matty's hair, grabbing his curls and pulling him closer against you.

You only break apart when your need for oxygen demands it, Matty panting above you with an overjoyed smile on his face. You smirk back at him, planning to repay him in the best way you know how.

But as you move your hand to grip his boxers, you feel the distinct lack of a boner and the presence of a damp spot sitting on the front of them. Your eyes flick down and study the dark grey patch on his underwear. You scrunch your face in confusion for a few seconds until it dawns on you.

He came. Untouched. Just from eating you out.

Matty sees the realisation on your face and groans, dropping down and burrowing his face in your neck. You can feel his cheeks growing hot as you giggle at his reaction, matty brings his mouth up to your cheek, pressing a kiss to it before he speaks.

“You're just really hot when you cum, im kind of obsessed with it. and you.” he whispers, pulling back to look at you with a cheesy grin. His eyes trace over your face, memorising every aspect of how you look.

Even if one day you become a stranger, if this all ends, he wants to remember exactly how you look right now.

He wants to remember the flush on your cheeks, the way the tip of your nose scrunches when you giggle, and the distinct glow of love in your eyes.

“Love you,” you whisper, leaning forward until you are a few centimetres from Matty's lips.

“I love you too” he whispers back, surging forward and catching your lips in a kiss he hopes conveys every bit of love that his words couldn't.

#sappy shit #i love me some lovey dovey smut #the filthy stuff is fun too tho hehehe #but yes they are very in love!!!#(idk about this... sorry if it disappoints anon </3)#anon!#matty healy smut

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starry-bi-sky · 18 days

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I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.

Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.

Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.

Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.

Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.

I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.

[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]

Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.

But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.

I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.

Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.

But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.

Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.

Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.

Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.

However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.

So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)

If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.

(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)

Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.

Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.

(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)

So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.

But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.

Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.

He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.

Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.

Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."

He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.

He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.

Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.

Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.

"Have you been spying on me?"

Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"

His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."

A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".

Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.

"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."

"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."

"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."

"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"

"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)

"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."

Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.

I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.

"I know you do not like me."

"You're right; I don't."

"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."

"...That's correct."

"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"

"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"

In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."

The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.

(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)

After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.

Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.

The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.

Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.

My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.

So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.

Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.

But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.

Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"

Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.

Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #danyal al ghul #i dont even mind the trope that danny becomes like his canon self i just want *some* kind of impact on him. but as it stands most aus i've #seen lowkey treat his assassin background as an accessory. like dyeing your hair or piercing your ears. that being said its also a silly #au where they're brothers and are related to each other and thus doesn't have to be that deep at all! im just bored of seeing the same thin #all the time. especially considering danny is usually depicted as the paler/whiter passing twin and being the 'kinder. more compassionate'#one between the two of them. give me danny who suffered crises of morality! danny whose morally darker than a cloud #morally orange and blue danny who sooner understands 'dont litter' than 'dont murder'. arrogant danny! he dotes on the people he loves but #is an utter bitch to everyone else and thus has to learn to be kinder. danny discovering himself outside being an assassin #his brother remembers a kind and compassionate older brother because thats how danny interacted with him. But danny had no qualms turning #around and slicing the tendons of one of the other assassins because of smth they did that displeased him.#he can still be like his canon self but shouldn't there be something that stays behind? Lingering like a blast shadow?#danny who carries weapons on him always even though he knows he doesn't need it but it makes him feel safer.#danny who spits out the oddest. most foreboding shit sometimes and his friends just stare at him and go 'bro what the fuck??'#idk if i can share the website where i found the episodes bc of risk of copyright. but just search up #'where can i watch danny phantom for free' and look for a reddit post with that question. the comments give website options.#i keep thinking about gray ghost now. valerie finds herself becoming a member of the 'danny fenton protection squad' with sam and tucker #danny takes a page from his beloved mother's book and calls his partners 'beloved' and equally sappy pet names.#he also throws the BIGGEST shitstorm of the century when he finds out about what Axion Labs did to the dogs. hoo boy.

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mochatricks · 3 months

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hiiiiiiii (explodes)

#solar opposites #tervo #terry opposites #korvo opposites #ohhhhhh they make me ILL #need more tender moments between them. Listen to me. i need it so bad im starving #yes i love the silly i love the chaos but i also desire SOME SAPPY SHIT #art tag #the valentines special is gonna kick my ass i feel. i feel it strongly in my bones

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flynnarts · 2 months

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Voxxy, My Child.

I was listening to a sad song okay. Don’t judge me. (CW: Minor Swearing and like a Mini Rant) (CW: A very heavy StaticMoth shipper. If you don’t like it, leave) [I’ll compliment other ship art, like RadioStatic. I even read “Radio Healed the Video Star” on Ao3; good thing, please look; but my OTP is my StaticMoth babies.]

This man has taken over my life, him and Valentino. I’m actually pretty proud of this, I haven’t been able to draw Vox in awhile, but I stuck through with it and I was able to do relatively okay! It isn’t like my other drawings, when I just turn it purple, so that’s amazing. (It’s still a little purple, but fuck that shit) Please, I have been surviving off of Character AI for so long now lol- Mostly just doing shit like where the character I play just bursts into Vox’s room, scolds him for being a workaholic, and tucks him into bed. Because the man needs sleep I swear- Side note, I head-cannon that Vox hates caffeine, but he drinks it to stay awake. Valentino loves sugary stuff, and Velvette drinks it black (Because of course she does, she’s our queen) I swear, I have a need to pump out a ton of shitty art for The Vees. StaticMoth art, Solo art, Duo art, and of course; the Trio art. I have the urge to draw them sleeping, with Valentino using his wings as like a gigantic blanket. Oh! One more thing. I head-cannon that both Vox and Val hate people touching their broken antennae, because sensitive, but they allow their close friends/families to touch them. So like only the other Vees. That’s fun. Please, please, please! Drop off your head-cannons and random rants here, because I love reading them, and I’ll love reading yours!

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thissortofsorcery · 1 year

Text

The doorbell’s ringing.

Billy puts his book down and takes a deep, calming breath before he gets up. He rarely gets a moment to himself in this house, and today he finally managed to sit down to read a fucking book with no one breathing down his neck, but someone decided to hang on the doorbell like the world’s ending.

Neil and Susan are at work, and Billy just dropped Max off at the Chief’s house, so of course no one else is in the house to answer the goddamn-

“What?!”

It’s Harrington.

“Billy-“ He says, and his voice breaks a little bit.

Billy tightens his grip on the door until his knuckles go white.

Harrington looks terrible. His hair is everywhere, the way it flops when he’s been pulling at it, and his lips are bitten bloody. Billy will bet his nails are bitten too. The Beamer’s parked on the curb haphazardly, one wheel almost climbing on the sidewalk, driver’s door still open, like he just stopped the car and climbed out without much thought.

When Billy brings his eyes back to Harrington, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose like he has a headache. That, or he’s trying not to cry. He kinda looks like he’s been holding back the whole way over, actually.

“Look, Harrington-“

“Just—Are you busy?”

Billy doesn’t answer.

They haven’t talked to each other in three weeks. Not since Steve drove off that night at the quarry, after they were done shotgunning beers and listening to Queen and seeing who could get more peanuts into the other’s mouth from six feet away. After they fucked.

Steve made no effort to reach him, not at school, not through the kids’ walkies, and Billy didn’t try to send any smoke signals either. They left things pretty clear that night.

Though showing up at his house is the worst idea Harrington could’ve had.

“You can’t be here.”

“What?” Harrington blinks at him, and that lost expression gives way to offended confusion as he blinks at Billy.

“Harrington— You can’t come to my house, Neil can’t see you—“

“I fucking know that, Billy! I checked he wasn’t home, I’m not an idiot—“

“I know you’re not an idiot, Steve!”

Their eyes meet and they fall silent, breath coming just that much quicker from their raised voices. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the street is quiet, no cars driving by, no people walking past. It’s like the sunroom porch on Cherry lane is a snowglobe, suspending them in time until one of them decides to move. And Billy— Billy can’t look away.

Last time he saw Steve, it was watching the taillights of his car get smaller in the distance through blurry eyes, tears on his cheeks making the red bleed into yellow bleed into blue. The sound of tires on gravel and his own harsh breaths, his own voice yelling Steve’s name, the slam of his fist on the trunk of the Beamer as it drove off, the engine revving, all at once and all over again in Billy’s ears, suffocating him. There were two sets of headlights illuminating the quarry that night, and then there was just one.

Now Billy doesn’t understand why Steve is here, why he’d just show up— It’s been long enough that Billy had given up on it, given up on them.

Steve blinks first, and sniffs, but he doesn’t look away.

“I just— I had to see you.”

It barely registers at first, the words a punch to the sternum that make Billy focus more on how they stole his breath than on what they mean. Then it hits him.

Billy wants to ask why. Why now? What made Steve change his mind? Did he change his mind? But he knows they’re on borrowed time and it won’t be long until someone turns the corner and sees them together. Steve can’t come in, but Billy can’t turn him away. He looks like he’s two seconds away from losing his shit.

“Not here,” Billy says, and Steve’s face immediately crumples. “Meet me at the quarry. Fifteen minutes.”

He pulls himself back together, a little, and rubs his nose. Then he nods and runs back to his car.

The days are getting longer now, in spring.

When Billy gets out of the Camaro, Steve’s already at the quarry, but he’s still sitting in his car, engine off, just staring at the steering wheel with his brow furrowed like it’s yelling at him. Or maybe he’s yelling at himself in his head. Billy knows he does that.

“Steve,” He calls, and Harrington starts, like he didn’t hear him coming. Billy leans on the hood of the Camaro while Steve gets out of the Beamer. “So, what did you want to see me for?”

Billy crosses his arms and his ankles and aims for nonchalant, but he’s not sure he hits the mark. He can feel Steve’s gaze on him like a burn, even after all this time, making his cheeks hot and his neck start sweating. Warmer than California sunshine. He can’t help but stare back, take in Steve’s shoulders (hunched) and his legs (gorgeous) and his hands (shaking).

“What's this about?” Billy asks again, which just goes to show how soft he is for Steve. He doesn’t ask the same question twice very often.

Steve stands in front of him, and breaks their stare-off to yank at his hair with both hands, making it stand out in an even weirder shape. He looks like a cartoon character. Billy figures they’re in for a long haul while Steve figures himself out, so he pulls himself up to sit on the hood of the Camaro.

It goes for a few minutes like this: Steve looks like he’s about to say something, then he swallows and blinks rapidly, staring at the ground, or up at the clouds. His bottom lip’s bleeding, again. He’s clearly torn about something, can’t decide wether to say it or not, and Billy might be trying his hardest to move on from them, but that doesn’t mean it worked.

“Stevie,” He calls, softly, and Steve’s head snaps in his direction. “What's wrong?”

And Steve just. Walks the six or so steps that separated them and sinks his head into Billy’s shoulder, arms going around his waist, under his jean jacket to cling to his shirt. He takes a few shuddering breaths that seem to come from the core of him, like it takes all his strength just to pull them in, but there’s no dampness on Billy’s jacket or on his neck.

And it breaks his goddamn heart. The months he’d been with Steve, he’d never seen him like this— nowhere close to this. Billy’d never even seen him tear up.

“Hey,” Billy says, a quiet murmur into Steve’s hair, more a soothing vibration than a sound. “Hey, Stevie, it’s okay.”

Billy settles his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him closer, if it’s at all possible, brackets Steve with his knees so he feels completely wrapped up, lays his head on top of Steve’s and breathes with him until he’s ready to talk. His fingers draw patterns on Steve’s shoulder, smoothing up and down his shoulder blade.

Billy feels the telltale burn of tears in his own eyes. He’d missed being this close.

“I heard back from some schools,” Steve’s muffled voice comes from his shoulder, still sounding tight.

Inwardly, Billy sighs. He did too. And he wondered about Steve, because he spent so much time helping him study, helping him apply, he couldn’t help but stay up at night wondering, even if he didn’t want to.

Steve pulls back, sniffing, but he doesn’t go far. He stays within an arm’s length, hand resting on Billy’s knee, warm and achingly familiar. Billy doesn’t find it in himself to let go of Steve’s jacket sleeve, either.

“I didn’t get in.”

Billy very carefully doesn’t react, doesn’t take in a sharp breath, jump in surprise. Instead, his keeps his voice flat,

“Didn't get in where?”

“Anywhere,” Steve says, mouth twisting into a sardonic smirk that looks just like Tommy’s, like he’s gotten used to the idea already, galvanized it into the Steve is so dumb trophy of comedic genius all his friends have awarded themselves. “Not anywhere. But today I got—" he swallows, “today I got the last letter from California, and I thought, fuck it, right? It doesn’t matter anymore, because we broke up.”

It hits Billy’s chest like a lance.

“Steve—“

“And if— And you’re going to California, obviously, you said so, you said there’s nothing that can keep you from going—“

“Stevie, come on,”

“And I thought, whatever I’m gonna do with my life, working for my dad or some shit, it’s not gonna have you in it, right? You’re fucking off somewhere and I'm—“

Steve’s voice breaks and he clenches his jaw shut, so tight that Billy can see the muscles at his temples pop. Billy’s hand has closed into a fist where he’s clinging to Steve’s jacket, and he doesn’t know when he did that. His whole body is frozen, just staring at Steve, unblinking, desperate to understand. His cheeks are wet.

Two hands cup his face, thumbs smudging the tears on his cheeks, and two steps later Steve’s face is close to his, so close their noses are almost touching. Billy hasn’t let go of his sleeve.

“I can’t do it, Billy,” Steve says. “Can't do this without you. You’re— You’re too important.”

There’s something inside Billy that breaks open. Something old and jagged, rusted over and buried deep, that tore at him every time he moved. Steve puts his lips on Billy’s cheek and kisses the salt away, rests their foreheads together so they can share a breath. Billy does open his fist, then, and it’s stiff, but he closes it again on the back of Steve’s jacket with his other hand, drawing him in.

He can’t say anything. He’s afraid of what his voice will sound like if he tries. So he just presses his lips to Steve’s, nudges them open carefully, slowly, slips his tongue inside to feel the taste he’s been dreaming about for the last three weeks, shuddering at the sensation of Steve’s teeth nibbling at his lip.

Billy chases Steve’s lips when he pulls back, steals another kiss, then locks his knees around Steve’s hips so he can’t go too far. They stay there, faces close, voices low.

“Tell me you mean it,” Billy says, eyes searching. Once upon a time he had the fleeting thought he could see his whole life stretch out in the brown of Steve’s eyes, and he’s clinging with everything he has to the belief he wasn’t wrong.

“I'm coming with you,” Steve promises. “To California, or like, wherever. I’ll get a job somewhere. It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you again.”

Billy nods, and doesn’t dare blink.

“Okay, pretty boy. ’s you and me.”

There’s a voice, mean and raspy, in the back of his head, that’s saying you think you deserve this, you piece of shit? you’re gonna drive him away just like last time

But Steve snuffs it out like a candle, effortlessly and without even noticing, when he huffs a laugh against Billy’s face, laying a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“Are you going to let me drive the Camaro on the way there?”

And Billy can’t let Steve get these ideas in his head, so he just kisses him quiet.

The sun sets, eventually, and the woods close to the quarry come alive. They don’t want to go home, not yet. It feels fragile, this little circle of happiness they made, and neither of them has it in him to move it somewhere else. To get in their separate cars and watch the other drive off. But they can’t see for shit, so they turn on their cars— One set of headlights illuminating the quarry, then two.

"I had to see you" | Version |

This drabble was inspired by the "I had to see you" scene from shameless, but the idea got away from me. I think I'll revisit this in the future, though, so this is Version I.

#please reblog #i missed my sappy shit #so here have some dramatic teens #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #billy hargrove #steve harrington #sorcery writes #mine

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livwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Eddie Munson had never been a fan of Christmas.

The cards had been kind of stacked against him, he thinks, with how his mom had died just before Christmas when he was still in elementary school, and then there has been the years of barely scraping by with Wayne. By the time he was old enough to have his own opinions, he was firmly and outright anti-holiday festivities — enough so that he had multiple well-rehearsed and overly aggressive rants at the ready.

He’d mellowed out quite a bit since high school, but he still never got the appeal of Christmastime.

Then he married Steve Harrington and started raising their three daughters together and it’s entirely true what everyone says about children changing your entire world because, now, he fucking loves Christmas.

To be clear – Halloween is still the greatest holiday of all time. That’s never gonna change, but Christmas might have firmly established itself as second.

That whole stretch of December, actually, always ends up being a blast, with the tree and the decorating and the gingerbread houses and all that other festive shit.

Christmas morning is the best part, he thinks. Eddie and Steve go through the wringer trying to get the girls into bed the night before, and their excitement wakes them up even earlier than usual.

Steve drags himself out of bed when they first hear chatter from the girls to snag their stockings from downstairs before any jailbreaks occur. The girls convene in Moe’s room to dig into their stockings under direct orders to not wake up their dads until 6:30 (not that either of them are sleeping, necessarily, but sometimes they manage to doze off for an entire half hour).

At 6:30 on the nose, the girls are practically breaking down the bedroom door in their haste to show off what Santa had put in their stockings, and Steve and Eddie put on a whole groggy show acting surprised about the little stuffed animals and boxes of crayons and heaps of candy that they’d clearly already taken a dive into.

The rest of the morning goes by in a haze. Steve and Eddie get corralled out of bed pretty quickly, and Steve is in charge of keeping the masses away from the presents under the Christmas tree long enough for Eddie to make a pot of coffee (which Steve doesn’t usually drink, but he does that morning), and when Eddie joins him on the couch with their novelty mugs of coffee, Steve slings an arm over his shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of his head. They always prop up their ancient camcorder on a side table, angled just right to capture the girls’ gleeful smiles as they unwrap all their gifts.

It might be Eddie’s favorite day of the year, believe it or not.

It’s all a fuckload of extra work in an already busy time of year, obviously, and he loses out on some of that sleep that he’s needing more and more the older he gets, but goddamn is it worth it every year because their girls are so happy. Happier than both he and Steve had ever gotten to experience.

That’s what fatherhood means to him though — giving his children things, opportunities, experiences, that he’d been denied in his own childhood, and seeing it pay off in their big grins on Christmas morning.

He’s not sure if it’s the most wonderful time of the year or any of that sappy crap, but he can still safely say that it’s pretty damn great.

#have some sappy shit this christmas afternoon #love y’all #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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befuddled-calico-whump · 2 months

Note

putting one more Cinderglass drabble request in your askbox (i am so sorry for the spam but i’ve been thinking about them nonstop aghfsk). again, feel free to ignore this!

i‘d love to see Sarah help Lex work through a panic attack or a traumatic flashback! maybe either so that he doesn’t have to drown himself in alcohol about it or she’s helping and calming him down while he’s drunk

Wildefire Masterlist

cw: alcoholism, emeto, hallucinations, withdrawals

He'd been sober for thirty seven hours.

Not long at all, really, but it was something, and he was trying, and it was fine.

Well, it was fine for thirty seven hours.

Outright quitting was the only thing Lex dared to do. Trying to just cut back wouldn't work, because what was cutting back? He didn't keep track of how much he drank anymore, he just drank until he felt like it was enough. Even just trying to regulate himself to one a day seemed risky business. Would he be able to stop, once he started?

He didn't want to find out.

Lex didn't tell Sarah, didn't want her saying it was a bad idea or insisting on staying with him. It was a rough ride ahead, and he didn't want to somehow hurt her in the throes of his panic or sickness. He... He didn't want her to see him like that.

So he locked himself in his room, told her not to bother him this week, that he'd be busy. The safehouse was old and decrepit but huge, and his room had a small bathroom attached, something he was doubly grateful for now.

He stocked his room with water bottles. It was impossible not to think of Sarah whenever he looked at their plastic cases now, Sarah staying up until early daylight, because she was worried. That was good. He could use his guilt there as a reminder; a reason to hold out.

He sipped at them and stared at the wall, every light in the room on, the old radio Sarah had gotten for him positioned at the foot of his bed. She'd given him a battered CD case with it, packed full of a few dozen discs. A Guns n Roses album was currently in, playing just loud enough to pull his thoughts.

She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories

By now, Lex was pretty good at doing nothing, letting himself sink into the thankfulness that nothing was being done to him. Even a year after the Tower and weeks free of Uriah, the talent hadn't faded. Day one turned into night, and he didn't dare fall asleep. Just swapped one CD for another and let his mind cling to the lyrics.

Too late, my time has come

Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time

It was around hour twenty two that the headache started, and it only got worse from there. Not long after that, Lex was clinging to the toilet bowl, heaving up the half-dozen water bottles he'd drank throughout the day, his head swimming, the pit in his stomach insisting couldn't he just do this later? Would it hurt to have one drink, to get rid of this shitty feeling?

No. All or nothing.

He moved the radio to the bed, putting his ear to the speaker, trying to drown out everything else. The album came to an end, and he replaced it with another, as quick as he could without scratching the disc with his stupid metal fingers.

Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile

The girl with the kaleidoscope eyes

Fuck. He just needed to hold out, just for a few days, and this would be over. A little self control, and maybe he could call himself worthy of the people here. Not a loose end. Not an ex-enemy or a liability. Something better.

Lex wrapped the sheets around himself, held the pillow over his head to try and ease the pounding in his skull with the pressure. It didn't help. He almost fell asleep, but the nausea pulled at his stomach and his skin was crawling and too hot, and then he was throwing off the blankets; stripping down to his boxers in an effort to ease the heat.

Exhausted but unable to find sleep, he sat with his back against the cool wall and sipped water, trying to find the lyrics again and hold them.

I don't really want to stop the show

But I thought you might like to know

That the singer's gonna sing a song

And he wants you all to sing along

It didn't help, it wasn't enough. His own body was fighting him, roiling nausea and sickness insisting all he needed was one drink and it could all go away, it could all be okay (fray, gray, stay).

The radio hummed as the CD came to an end, a few seconds passing before the album began again.

What would you think if I sang out of tune?

Would you stand up and walk out on me?

At long last, his own exhaustion was catching up to him, and he dragged himself back onto the bed, the heavy feeling in his chest spreading to his eyes and mind, as the music faded to a buzz and sleep overcame him.

He woke in the Tower.

It was impossible, he knew it was, but the fear seized him all the same, the crushing weight of walls he couldn't escape, the knowledge that this time, there would be no one to free him; this time he was here for good.

And the floor was wrong and Lex knew there was never music, but he fucking knew where he was.

He sat up, wincing at the sharp pain that rang through his skull at the movement, forcing down rising nausea. No one here cared if he was sick, if he was hurt, they'd hurt him more anyway, they'd do what it took to keep him down, keep him in line. He wrapped his arms

(Arms? It's wrong, stop, you aren't---)

around himself, squeezing his torso with a pressure that wasn't comforting. He felt shaky, blurred, weak. Had they drugged him?

(just one drink and this all goes away)

He tried to reach for the techniques he'd used to get through the days, tried to remember the things he'd done to stay sane, to stay alive, but any useful memory fell through his hands like sand, leaving nothing but the shadows, the nightmares (snares, glares, spares).

He knew what happened here, in his cell (hell). He knew what was waiting to spring on him at any moment, what would surely come for him if he let his guard down (drown), if he fell asleep, if he---

"Morning, scum."

Lex froze as the door swung open. Morning? But it was so dark, but it was always dark, the light never hits you here, and when it does there are worse things waiting---

"I knew you'd come crawling back. This is where you belong, it's home."

He could hear the voice clear as day, but couldn't see its owner. It didn't sound like Wade. It almost sounded like...

"Alexei. Did you really think you could hide from me?"

Uriah Fox stood over the bed, a smug smile plastered on his face.

"No," Lex choked out. "Y-you can't--"

"You always knew it would end this way."

(Fray, pray, stray)

He climbed onto the bed, straddling Lex, easily pinning him despite being so much smaller, despite Lex being so much stronger, and he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe---

"Lex."

The pressure in his chest faded, and he gasped for air, squinting into the dim light, unable to make out anything. A hand fell onto his shoulder, giving it a light shake, and he flinched back.

"Sorry."

Sarah? He forced himself to breathe deeply, ease his eyes open. Her silhouette was blurry above him, and it was only then that he realized he was crying.

He brushed the tears away hastily with the back of his hand. "You... You should go," he managed to say.

She sighed. "I'm sorry if I scared you, I just... I heard you... screaming. Not loud or anything, but..." She tapped her earlobe. "Can't get much past these."

He swallowed, trying to push himself into a seated position, but his shoulders shook, his stomach twisting, and he fell back onto the pillow.

"Lex..." She bit her lip. "You could've told me. You know you don't have to do this alone."

He almost laughed out loud at that. What other way was there? It was his body, his choices, his mistakes. He'd drowned himself for too long, hoping it could save him, knowing it never would. He was reaping his rewards. No one else should have to deal with the mess that was him.

"I'm not your problem," he murmured, letting his eyes close again. What could she do, besides be there to fill the silence when music wasn't enough? Besides grounding him and telling him it wasn't real, he wasn't there?

"You're not a problem, Lex," she said, her voice serious. Tired. How late was it? Even trying to be fucking better, he was still screwing up her life.

"I just want you to take care of yourself, okay?" She kicked at an empty water bottle. "Is this the best way? I'm glad you're trying, I am, but don't you think it'll be easier on you if you come downstairs and hang out?"

He didn't want any of them to see him like this. "What good would that do?"

"Distract you, for one. For another, it'll be easier to remember meals. When's the last time you've eaten something?"

He sank further onto the bed, his gut twisting again at the thought of food. "I don't know."

"And have you been drinking anything besides water?"

"No, that's--that's the whole point, I'm not---"

"That's not what I meant. Electrolytes? A protein shake, maybe?"

"No," he answered after a moment.

She dropped her eyes, a grimace tugging at her mouth though she seemed to be trying to hold it back.

"Do you not think I can do this?"

"I think you're punishing yourself," Sarah said. "And I think you should stop."

Was he? His head spun almost too much to think about it. This wasn't self-inflicted punishment, it was cause and effect. It was something he had to get through if he ever wanted to move past the Tower.

"It'll be over soon," he muttered, and he hoped he was right.

She dipped her head, pressing her lips together tightly, and pushed off of the bed, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"Sarah..."

"Look, I don't wanna push your boundaries, but I can't leave you like this. It's not safe."

"It'll get worse from here."

"Which is why I'm staying." She gave him a stern look. "If you want to be alone, I'll leave, but I'll be right outside your door."

Lex clenched his jaw. "I'll be fine."

"You're detoxing. You're already feverish. What if you start seizing up?"

"Then I've already dug my own grave."

"Lex." Her expression darkened. "You can't keep doing this."

"This is the only time--"

"Not this. Self-destructing. You..." She did grimace then, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You keep hurting yourself, and I can't keep watching."

He pressed his cheek further into the pillow, knees drawing to his chest. "Then why do you?" he said. "Why haven't you thrown me out yet?"

The words came out too angry. Accusatory. His own fault. Any filter he had was lessened by the pain in his head and the nausea and the fucking exhaustion. He didn't want her to throw him out, he... he needed her. Not in some bullshit emotional way, but as a reminder that there were still good things. Things worth fighting for, worth living for.

"I'd never throw you out," Sarah said, her expression turning to something that bordered playful. "I like you too much for that, you know. I just..." She exhaled through her nose, pushed soft dark hair over her shoulder. "I want you to try, okay? Can you agree to try to do what's best for yourself? To stop taking the harder path just because?"

Could he? Even if he wanted to? The harder path was what he was used to. Less traveled, less trapped. Suffering for a goal was a habit. Muscle memory.

Would the path to freedom be as clear if there was no pain to pave it?

Still, something in her voice pulled Lex to nod against the pillow. "I'll try."

Her smile shifted to something more genuine. "That's all I'm asking." She began to push herself up. "I'll, uh... I'll be in the hall then. You are eating breakfast in the morning, mister."

"You... You don't have to do that," he started.

"Do what? Bring you food? Or stand guard? I already said I'm not leaving you alone--"

"You don't have to stay in the hall." Lex swallowed (followed), and it took him a second to form the words. "You can stay here. If you... If you want to."

Her expression softened. "Yeah. I do."

She found a spare pillow and blanket in the room's closet and began to settle down on the floor beside him, picking out a new CD to start the music playing again.

While we're on the subject, could we change the subject now

"I'm here if you need me."

"I know." I need you.

It was a paradox. The easier path to recovery, to a clear head, to control being the more difficult one. Because it was untravelled. Because he almost felt he didn't deserve it, that he should bear the punishment for his own vices.

But even if the path was unchartered, he had a guide. For once, he didn't have to walk it alone.

oh, and we carried it all so well

•°•°•

Tag List:

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow , @honeycollectswhump , @snakebites-and-ink

#you don't know how long i spent finding lyrics #im not even fully satisfied with the ones i went with because they aren't -perfect- but ive spent too long scrolling through playlists lolo #wildefire #cinderglass #tw alcohol #alcohol whump #emeto #hallucinations #withdrawals #angst #anon #so sorry this took forever #anyway this may be a little cheesy but lex needs some sappiness in his life #I STARTED WRITING THIS IN NOVEMBER HOLY SHIT FSJDBSKKD

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