#enjoy the starter

[staggerinbeauty]

{@Yellowskinnedwackyman liked for a starter:}

     The redhead's features twisted and scrunched up to a face of absolute disgust. The sight of that— that THING. She's never seen anything like it before, and quite frankly, wished she hadn't. Was that? was that red stuff back-hair??

     The dame held a hand over her mouth with puffed cheeks as she squinted down at the mutant? Animal? whatever the hell IT was.

           " AUGH!- stop looking at me like that -with— with those BEADY LITTLE EYES of your's !"

[promptfairy]

❥    𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

designed for ships, but can be used for a variety of relationship types. change gendered language/add context to your needs. happy roleplaying !!  ♡

❛  it feels so good to be bad.  ❜ ❛  it really makes me wonder if i ever gave a fuck about you.  ❜ ❛  give me something to believe in.  ❜ ❛  i don’t believe in you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i wonder if it even makes a difference to try.  ❜ ❛  so, this is goodbye.  ❜ ❛  one day i’ll wake up & it won’t hurt anymore.  ❜ ❛  it’s like i can’t even feel after the way you touched me.  ❜ ❛  you’re everything that i want, but you don’t want me.  ❜ ❛  am i a regret, yet?  ❜ ❛  was it worth what it costed?  ❜ ❛  you make me nauseous.  ❜ ❛  you’re overrated.  ❜ ❛  when i think of you, i just want to throw up.  ❜ ❛  all my friends say that you’re toxic.  ❜ ❛  why does love suck?  ❜ ❛  love hurts whether it’s right or wrong.  ❜ ❛  i can’t stop, i’m having too much fun.  ❜ ❛  you can’t save me, baby.  ❜ ❛  you never call or listen to me anyway.  ❜ ❛  where were you tuesday, october tenth?  ❜ ❛  how is your jacket covered in blood?  ❜ ❛  how was the party? did you have fun?  ❜ ❛  i fell in love with the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  the only time i feel alive is when i’m touching the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  if you tell me to stay away, i’m gonna dive in again.  ❜ ❛  my favorite color is red like the flags you fly overhead.  ❜ ❛  well, i should have known.  ❜ ❛  didn’t you see it coming? didn’t you see the signs?  ❜ ❛  i’ll break your pretty face.  ❜ ❛  bite your tongue & choke yourself to sleep.  ❜ ❛  you can hold my hand if no one’s home.   ❜ ❛  do you like it when i’m away?  ❜ ❛  you’re a pond & i’m an ocean.  ❜ ❛  all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around.  ❜ ❛  i am a wreck when i’m without you.  ❜ ❛  was it something i said to make you feel like you’re a burden?  ❜ ❛  tell me, is it worth it?  ❜ ❛  she’s a lady & i am just a line without a hook.  ❜ ❛  do what you want as long as you stay here.  ❜ ❛  you’ll change your name or change your mind & leave this fucked up place behind, but i’ll know.  ❜ ❛  if you ever try to leave me, i’ll find you, [name].  ❜ ❛  i’ll be the bad guy, now.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t be there, even when i tried.  ❜ ❛  seasons changed & our love went cold.  ❜ ❛  i knew that this was doomed from the get-go.  ❜ ❛  you thought that it was special, but it was just the sex, though.  ❜ ❛  it’s only me; what have you got to lose?  ❜ ❛  you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk & made fun of the way you talk.  ❜ ❛  you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.  ❜ ❛  you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.  ❜ ❛  you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, i can’t say anything to your face. ’cause look at your face.  ❜ ❛  i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.  ❜ ❛  if you’ve got a girlfriend, i’m jealous of her. but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts.  ❜ ❛  you make me so happy, it turns back to sad.  ❜ ❛  there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.  ❜ ❛  guess i’ll just stumble on home to my cats. alone … unless you wanna come along?  ❜ ❛  you look so happy when i’m not with you.  ❜ ❛  i don’t know why i run away.  ❜ ❛  take me back, ’cause i wanna stay.  ❜ ❛  i kept my distance ’cause i know that you don’t like when i’m with somebody else.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t help it; i put you through hell.  ❜ ❛  i realize that it’s much too late, & you deserve someone better.  ❜ ❛  i’m not the best at breaking up.  ❜ ❛  i like my alone time, but i want somebody to hold.  ❜ ❛  i get what i want. i keep it for a minute. then i let it go.  ❜ ❛  i hate it when you’re there for me, but i like it when you hit the spot.  ❜ ❛  i don’t do fake love, but i’ll take some from you tonight.  ❜ ❛  i don’t expect you to understand.  ❜ ❛  i’m ready to die holding your hand.  ❜ ❛  i can’t hide how i feel about you inside.  ❜ ❛  i’d give everything up tonight, if i could just have you be mine.  ❜ ❛  i’d give up everything for you.  ❜

[soulprompts]

the receiver has told the sender that they haven't slept for several days due to intense nightmares, and asks them to stay the night so that they might be able to sleep. send in " i stayed. " for the receiver to waken the next morning and find the sender to still be sitting by their bedside, having stayed the whole night to ensure they slept.

alternatively, send in " you stayed. " for the sender to waken the next morning and find the receiver is still sitting by their bedside, having stayed the whole night to ensure they slept.

[thebest-medicine]

TheBest-Medicine’s Spectacular Summer

Sentence Starter TickleFic Prompts:

Please feel free to send in ideas / fandoms / pairings / prompts including these or use them yourself as some inspiration for some writing or art! honestly I wanted an excuse and some guidance to write out some more tickle fic ideas I’ve been having lately. So anyway here’s 105 fic starters / prompts (somebody stop me).

“Was that a giggle just now?”

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?

“Come any closer and I will end you.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that..” / “Oh, you shouldn’t have said that..”

“No, I’m just- uh- sensitive.”

“You think you’re real tough, huh?”

“No way, you’re ticklish here too?”

“I’ll have you know, I was the reigning tickle fight champion in my house growing up.”

“Did you just… laugh?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Why are you so nervous all of the sudden?”

“So, what’s this I hear about you being deathly ticklish?”

“I don’t / can’t believe it.”

“Well, well, well… Look what we have here.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Come on, stop it - I’m serious, that really tickles!”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about?”

“I swear on my life, I will kill you.”

“Wait, are you stuck?”

“I will never forgive you for this, you bastard / jerk / dick / asshole / expletive.”

“Big talk for someone so ticklish.”

“Don’t make me make you.”

“Wait a minute, you’re not ticklish, are you?”

“Sounds like someone needs a visit from the tickle monster.”

“Well now you’re just asking for it.”

“Wow. You’re bold.”

“I hope you know that this means war.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?”

“Be careful, I’m ticklish (there).”

“Uh oh, someone’s in trouble.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad, is it?”

“Who would have thought a few tickles would be your doom?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You’re in for it as soon as we’re alone.”

“What? Me? Ticklish? As if!”

“A little birdie told me someone has ticklish feet / sides / knees / etc.”

“Wait - no, not that, anything but that!”

“You can’t be serious…”

“What did you just say?”

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that before, it’s nice.”

“I never thought I’d see the day…”

“No way, are you crying / begging?”

“Lighten up, have a laugh!”

“You wouldn’t take advantage (of that knowledge) when I’m stuck like this, right? …Right?!”

“Heh. That all you’ve got?”

“I’m not letting you off that easy.”

“Make me.”

“You would think you’d get less ticklish as you got older, but you’re the opposite!”

“It’s not your fault you’re so ticklish.”

“Please, I can’t take it anymore!”

“Oh you’d like / love that, wouldn’t you?”

“What about (name), (are they) ticklish?” “Huh? What - me?!”

“Hmm, looks like the tables have turned…”

“Oh man, is this a bad spot?”

“Please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

“I never would’ve pegged you as the ticklish type.”

“You better not tell anyone about this.”

“I can think of a few ways to make you talk.”

“Why so nervous?”

“Don’t- don’t you dare! Don’t even t-think about it!”

“You’d better keep quiet.”

“I haven’t seen you smile all day / week!”

“Too bad there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Relax, I’m not gonna kill ya. But I am gonna make you wish you were dead.”

“I just wanna be close to you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re ticklish?!”

“Well now, that seems like wishful thinking.”

“What’s that? Stop saying tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle?”

“You have five seconds to run.”

“Wait, not there - anywhere but there!”

“This isn’t cuddling! This is an attack!”

“As soon as I get out of this I hope you know I’m going to murder you.”

“I hope you’re not too ticklish.”

“Oh man, that looks bad.”

“Uh, oh. Someone’s ticklish.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been hiding this all this time?!”

“There’s nowhere to hide.”

“Aww, are you blushing? That’s adorable.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“You should know better than to try to keep secrets from me.”

“What did I just say!?”

“You’re not really gonna tickle me, are you?”

“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You’d better give up now or this is about to get a lot worse.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Crap. Wait. I didn’t mean that.”

“…That was brutal.”

“We don’t have time for such childish— hey! Stop it!”

“Wait no- Not here- Not now!”

“Just wait until I get you back.”

“Have mercy!”

“Hey are you guys okay? I heard yelling (from the hall / outside) and— oh.”

“Oh? And what if I did?”

“Revenge is so, so sweet.”

“You can’t be serious!?”

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a feather / brush / etc.”

“Oh, sorry, did that tickle?”

“There it is! That laugh is music to my ears.”

“Don’t make me get your (worst spot).”

“Would you just shut up and tickle me already?”

“You’re in for it now!”

“You are so going to regret that.”

“Let’s make it interesting.”

“What, did you think you were just going to get away with that?”

“Hey, a bet’s a bet.”

[front-facing-pokemon]

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR ASSERTIVE ACCUSATIONS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

you knew about this!

you knew this was going to happen, and you never told me!

how could you hide something like this?

you told me we were in this 'til the end.

i never should have trusted you.

now i look like the fool.

this wasn't supposed to happen!

don't bullshit me! how long have you known about this?

i opened myself up to you, and you lied to me!

you used me? all this time?

so that was a lie?

you told me you never saw what happened!

i'm so stupid for believing you.

what else are you hiding from me?

i don't want your excuses! i just want the truth.

why did you keep me in the dark for so long?

who else knows? does everyone know but me?

when were you going to break the news? let me in on your little secret?

all this time, i could've been doing something else.

you led me on.

you lied straight to my face.

you should feel sorry.

i don't want your apologies. they mean nothing to me.

they were all right about you.

they warned me about you, and i ignored them.

i didn't ask to be made fun of!

so what am i? the butt of the joke?

have you been laughing behind my back the whole time?

you're breaking my heart.

i thought you were the one for me.

i poured my whole life out for you, and this is what i get in return?

i never gave up on you. never!

you could have saved them!

all you care about is yourself!

i'm never going to forgive you for what you've done.

this is the worst day of my life.

this is all your fault! you did this!

just say you never cared and be done with it.

i never want to see your face again.

you two deserve each other.

you could have told me before. i would have listened.

if you'd just been honest with me this whole time...

i gave you so many opportunities to tell me the truth.

did you ever tell me the truth, or were they all lies?

you know what i've been through, and you didn't care.

look at me when i'm talking to you!

i wish we'd never met.

meeting you was the worst mistake i've ever made.

don't come around here ever again. do you understand?

everything is ruined, and it's all your fault!

show me. show me what you're hiding!

it wasn't lost. you had it all along and never told me.

why did you never tell me your real name?

this was a mistake.

you look like an idiot.

no more second chances. we're done here.

get out of my sight.

i really thought you were different.

you were a total waste of time.

you could have called me!

[astralfms]

@palmviewstarters // salty sailor bar

fidgeting with the stem of her glass, celeste leaned against the bar and scanned the room for her company of the night. being one of her go-to spots, most of the faces were familiar ( as they could be with a drunken haze clouding the memories. ) people were her favorite pastime, which made it more difficult to choose just one. how could she possibly know how she'd want to end the night when it had just begun ? huffing to herself, she downed the drink and signaled for another, deciding to go with proximity and see where it took her. "so, do you come here often ?" she asked the patron next to her, stifling her own laugh at the corny joke. "sorry, i've always wanted to use that line."

[gretaohnie]

fall is no where near approaching yet, but it isn't too early to prepare right? i mean if starbucks can have all the pumpkin spice things then i want all the little ghosties in pink cowboy hats as decor. i have already been figuring out soup recipes and new baked goods to try. please tell me you have fall traditions too. @sbhqstarters

[fure-dcmk]

oshikatsu log

[therestayzakhar]

Now that I have a moment, I just want to gush about everything. From the Red, White & Royal Blue sequel being written as we speak and we could be filming that next summer - fingers crossed. I'm so ready and excited to discover more of Alex and his story. I'm also going to gush about the amazing man I'm engaged to - Nicholas Galitzine bring He-Man to live as we speak. I can't be the only one on this. I promise I'm bias but also - fucking, He-Man! I'm ready for this. Also, I have to know - excited for summer coming? I want to hear all about it - I'm a summer lover myself so expect me to live at the beach. || @hfrpstarters

[lowskey]

ྀ  ‧ ₊  ✩  ｡ °  ꒰ @staronline ꒱ . 💌

                       ''  YEAH  ,  OKAY  ,  FINE  ,  WE  MADE  IT.  if  only  somebody  didn't  ,  you  know  ,  mess  up  that  safe's  code  three  times  and  we  had  to  wait  a  whole  five  minutes  to  try  again  ,  we  could've  been  faster.  but  yeah  !  we  made  it.  ''  doha  grins  ,  obviously  teasing  and  wanting  the  other  to  know  that  —  bumping  against  his  side  as  the  odd  pair  make  their  way  towards  his  bus.  dwindling  down  narrow  streets  with  barely  working  street  lanterns  ,  it  gives  the  sensation  they're  stuck  in  yet  another  escape  room. he wouldn't mind figuring it out again with gangjae.  ''  thanks  for  joining  me  though.  i  know  it  was  a  bit  last  minute  ,  but  i  figured  ...  you'd  be  down  for  it.  ''

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles - part IV: the inbetween (hot spring bath)

(~5,5 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

-- a piece of warmth in a cold wasteland (a piece of hope in a nightmare) --

It takes some time, to slowly patch up the wounds on their souls and bury the incessant fears. Scar and Grian have each other, and they aren’t letting go. Not this time. Not again. Never. (Unless we get our hands on this au which, oh, we have. Funny thing—)

It’s now the midst of winter, and they huddle from shelter to shelter, clothes wet from snow, progress slow as they have to constantly try and cover their marks. The food is scarce, and they’re using every trick Juni taught them in late autumn to stay safe and not starve. (The thought feels bittersweet, but they don’t linger on it.)

And one day, the sun disappears. [This will be the eclipse bonus ramble, dw about it rn <3]

In the aftermath, they’re both feeling destabilised and unsafe. Grian in particular grows to feel like even more of a liability, becoming quiet and withdrawn. Terrified Scar’d leave him, despite feeling like maybe it'd be for the best if he did. (Best for Scar, that is.)

Scar does his best to divert Grian’s attention from bleak thoughts. He talks about hope, and possibilities, and—most importantly—future. He remembers that one time [in a bonus fic we never finished kjxnb bUT ONE DAY] when Grian mentioned wanting a treehouse. Wanting a permanent place. Somewhere to stretch his wings. Somewhere to be.

He tells him, softly, that come spring, once the trees are less barren, they can try building one. They will do it! Scar will build as many as it takes. Each better than the last!

And one day, they’ll get far enough. And they’ll build one that’ll last. And they’ll be able to stretch their wings, free.

Grian isn’t sure how much he believes that. But he wants to. He wants to.

They wander through the lands, seemingly directionless. The winter is harsh. The violet is bright against the whiteness of the snow and the dark brown of the bare trees. Still, with stolen cloaks, they do their best with the circumstances, never feeling warm or relaxed.

That is, until they stumble upon something rare.

They find a cave that is warm and, curious and seeking shelter, they go in. 

Inside, they find a large cavern with the ceiling caved in, sunlight pooling from the hole down onto a steaming surface of… a hot spring.

Scar gets immensely excited and, without hesitating, dives right in. The warmth is blissful, melting away all the aches and coaxing frost out of his bones. It’s the best thing he’s felt in a long time.

“I’m never getting out of here. You’re gonna have to drag me out. I am willingly turning myself into a raisin.”

Grian, unlike Scar, hesitates. His wings are still dirtied and full of debris, never preened, never touched. Kept dishevelled and dull to try to hide their desirable sheen. Flaring up with discomfort and aches, muscles tense and never stretched, in an attempt to turn them into something that’d be less of a beacon.

Getting them wet would mean washing off months of that effort. (Months of held-in suffering.)

And Grian wants to sink under the water and feel its warmth, relax into it just like Scar does, but he can’t. He can’t get through that mental block. So he just crouches on the side, sad and torn and wistful.

Scar tries to coax him in by assuring Grian they have enough time to dry them (he doesn’t use the word wings). But drying them isn’t the problem. The problem is making them bright again.

Scar doesn’t quite understand what is holding Grian back, but he tries to offer him ways to sidestep it without tacking a name to it. He holds out his hands and opts for goofiness, asking if Grian is shy, promising he’ll close his eyes, as if it was a simple act of undressing that was the problem. He’s trying to offer a simpler anxiety to latch onto, one more easily dealt with.

And despite the anxiety, Grian laughs a little at his antics. It’s barely a laugh, strained around the edges, but the fondness rings so clear through it.

But Scar’s suggestion doesn’t solve Grian’s problem, and Grian is wholly unwilling to name it and put attention to it—to the hopeless way he feels about the weight settled on his back. 

Scar is stubborn and determined, trying to read Grian without pushing too much. He wades to a more shallow part of the pool and softly—and still so very lightheartedly—points out that Grian could take a dip there, feel the warmth, “And only half of you gets turned to raisins.” Endlessly aware of what they’re not saying, words tucked between the lines: Your wings don’t have to get wet.

 Grian eyes the side Scar pointed out with enough suspicion, as if he expected the ground there to be playing a trick on him, in fact not solid at all. Slowly, he uncurls and shuffles over to peer at it, taut yet curious, unsure yet hopeful.

It’s timid, at first. The undressing, the reach for water. But as soon as his skin meets the warmth, yearning shoots through him and he can’t stop himself.

The water splashes in his rush to get in, something that delights Scar immeasurably.

And it’s quickly clear the water is only going to incite him to give in further, setting alight a craving for more. To keep sinking, to submerge all of his body, to melt against its warmth and let it make him stop aching. 

Unable to resist but still unwilling to get his wings wet, he ends up opting to slump himself over Scar’s shoulders, letting most of him dip into the enciting warmth of the water.  

The effect is instant: the warm water eases the hidden pains and tension right off, making Grian huff in relief as his hold on Scar turns lax, trusting Scar to keep him safe. It’s only Grian’s back that keeps some semblance of tension, wings held up above the water line even as the rest of him helplessly melts into it.

And Scar has to ask. Inevitably, the issue cannot be skirted around anymore. “Why don’t you want them wet…?”

Grian’s breath hitches, and just like that, all the tension and anxiety is back. Just like that, he’s pushing away, back upright into the shallow water, and then further, splashing as he goes, until he’s perched at the edge of the pool, safely out of its depths.

Arms wrapped around himself and shivering, Grian tries to breathe through the reminder of everything that’s wrong, everything that he doesn’t want fixed—can’t have fixed—attention pinned to his feathers that he reslots against his spine, dry and as small as possible. 

But there's no sidestepping this anymore.

It’s only when he admits, words miserable and broken, muffled into his palms and edging a sob, that washing the wings would turn them into more of a beacon, that Scar truly starts to understand this.

It was always only implied and never spoken—the topic of feathers always carefully avoided to sidestep the panic lurking just beneath those words—now broken and brought up to the surface for the first time since Grian's freak out on that very first day so long ago. 

It slots together in Scar’s mind now: It’s not just trauma and fear keeping Grian from allowing anyone (including himself) to touch his wings; it’s his unwillingness to brighten what he believes is to be a spotlight that’s made a home on his back. It explains weeks and weeks of unpreened, tucked back wings hidden uncomfortably under the cloak Scar gave him the day they found each other. What Scar thought was a deep-rooted anxiety born from the time they spent apart actually goes much, much deeper. The fear is a constant in Grian’s mind.

Scar pauses, taking the new pieces to the puzzle he’s been offered and pressing them into place, considering the proper approach. “Grian,” he tries again, voice soft. “One little soak isn’t going to make a difference.” (He wishes it would. He wishes Grian would wash them out properly, let them shine like they did before. He’d fight off the whole server if he had to in order to see that once more.) 

Something desperate in Grian is latching onto Scar’s words. He’s begging himself to listen, to give in, to let go, to succumb. He sniffles, dropping his hands a little bit, looking over at Scar, silent plea written into his eyes. Please. Please please please. 

He wants Scar to win him over. To convince him. To yank this tight knot of anxiety and let him breathe.

With a sigh, Scar continues. “We don’t have to wash them, just…” He hates going along with any part of this, but he’s not about to change Grian’s mind so easily. He has to bargain. “... One hour. One hour where you don’t worry so dang much. Just relax, forget everything else. Let me—” He doubts his word choice for a moment, but commits to it, considering them appropriate. “Let me watch your back.”

There’s a pause. And then, from his curled-up position, Grian asks: “One hour?” It’s small, a word just shy of crumbling to dust. He wants this. He needs this. He needs Scar to sway him here. But he can’t just give in. So he asks for more. He asks Scar to promise that this won’t cause anything bad. 

"Nothing bad," Scar assures immediately, even if he doesn't truly have the power to promise that. He'll make it true. He's determined to. "I'll make sure of it. And you just relax."

The words bounce around in Grian’s head.

Nothing bad. I’ll make sure of it.

He sniffles, wrangling the ever-present constraints of anxiety, and then, ever so slowly, he uncurls. His hands drop from his face and his glistening eyes find Scar’s, locking onto them as if Scar was his life raft. “Okay.” 

He isn’t sure he knows how to relax, not where his wings are concerned, but he’s been tense and scared for so long, he’s so tired, so greedy for the idea of it. And if Scar can somehow will it into existence, Grian will do his best to give himself over to him.

It’s slow. Every move hesitant and unsure, every Scar’s word soft and reassuring. He tells Grian it’s just the two of them here. He leads him, step by timid step.

Grian ends up draped over him again, arms wrapped around Scar's shoulders, trying to stifle his fears into his hold of him as they tentatively make progress into the warmth that begs Grian to surrender completely.

Grian’s coherency is slipping from his grasp as the warm water and the security of Scar’s presence take over. He hasn’t allowed himself to relax in so impossibly long, only ever forced by the circumstances. (Feeling faint, being wounded, dizziness pulling him to his knees—) This is different. This is so very different, and he finds himself simultaneously nuzzling against Scar and entirely letting go, his grip growing weak as Scar holds him with his back above water.

Grian’s wings falter and droop the littlest bit. He barely notices it. They’re hovering so, so very close above the waterline.

He hums, and they dip further, and—

He twitches, startled at the sensation of water against his feathers. Running on nothing but well-trained instinct, his wings flap, frantically splashing water.

Scar pulls Grian a little closer, keeping his hands firm and tight so he doesn’t drop him altogether. “Hey, hey, hey it’s okay. I’ve still got you.” He slides one leg out a little wider to maintain balance, continuing to mumble soft shushes. “The water won’t hurt ya, G.”

Grian pulls himself tight against Scar, his wing movements calming somewhat at Scar’s reassurance. They’re left treacherously hovering over the water again, unsure, as Grian buries his face in Scar’s neck, eyes tightly shut. He’s tense again, back at square one, and even the warmth of the water isn’t working enough to lull him out of it.

But Scar says the water won’t hurt him.

He knows that, right? He’s— The water won’t hurt him, it’s just the consequences he’s meant to be afraid of. But Scar already promised those will be okay.

Grian knows Scar doesn’t have the power to promise that.

Still, he tries to wrangle both the rational and irrational parts of his fear.

He breathes heavily, pressed close to Scar, and he whimpers a quiet, very unbrave sounding word: “Down?”

“Yeah?” Scar asks, a little unsure. “Do you— want me to let you down?” He doesn’t move his hands yet.

Feeling the steadiness of Scar's hands, Grian is sure that there won't be anything unexpected; not unless he agrees, nods, gives consent. But his head is so messy, not knowing how to communicate, and he's not sure he won't misstep.

"The wings?" Grian asks, and it's not much more coherent than the original question.

“The—“ Scar tuts his tongue, remembering to take the time to think. He glances over at Grian’s wings, something he very purposely tries not to do typically, but with Grian’s head tucked against his collarbone, he looks them over, curious. “Yeah, yes— you can let them down, G.” A small reassuring press of his fingertips. “Really.”

Grian takes a breath at the encouragement; it's damp and hot, water and scar's skin heating him up, both working on stealing all the tension out of him.

Gingerly and with a tinge of fearfullness, grian relents.

He lets his wings drop.

Tentatively, the feathers meet water. Calmer, this time. Expecting it. 

Grian’s hold on Scar doesn't exactly tense up, but his fingers curl, feebly looking for a tidbit of purchase, something to hold onto as his wings spread and sprawl, rippling the water, floating atop it, and— And it's so warm and it feels so good to stretch them, to let them be without force and without pressure and—

There's a half-sob, something small and all too relaxed and relieved, as looseness floods through Grian. His fingers uncurl and he sags further against Scar, whimpering quietly without any real distress. 

Scar can’t help the bright, genuine grin that spreads across his face at this success, even despite the small sobbing sounds—because he knows, he knows it’s from overwhelming relief. He had half a mind to cry when he first stepped foot in the water, so he can only imagine how Grian feels right now. “Shhh, good, good,” Scar coos, pressing a soft kiss into Grian’s hair. “Still got you.”

Grian makes a jumble of incoherent sounds at Scar's praise, melting further into the warmth. His eyes are closed and his muscles loosen bit by bit, aches stolen from them. He's not working to support any of his weight anymore, surrendering it all to Scar and to the water. He doesn't even register his wings fully; they float, and it makes them feel numb and nonexistent in the best of ways. 

Loose feathers and dirt drift across the surface, the spot near Grian growing murkier.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Scar whispers, not wanting to disturb Grian’s moment of bliss here. He eyes the spot where the water darkens from the dirt and debris coming free from Grian’s wings, trying not to let it affect his mood, tug at his heart. 

He wishes he could rake his fingers through the feathers and dislodge all the uncomfortable things that poke and prod at Grian on a daily basis. We wants to hold him closer and take care of him, wash all the troubles away, but—

Baby steps, he reminds himself. 

Grian's mind is hazy, all of him melting into the warmth bit by bit. (He doesn't remember the last time he was warm.) He feels engulfed and cradled, held and supported, and it makes him want to drift off. He's melting further into it, eyes closed and mind pleasantly dazed. He thinks he might just stay here forever. (The insides of his wings are warm warm warm; the water gently bobs them, the muscles loosening after months of being stiff and taut.)

It reminds Grian of what it feels like to be comfortable. (He isn't sure he can quite grasp it; the feeling seems too big for his comprehension.) He lets out a long, reverberating hum, almost purr-like, sinking further into the water. His eyes are still closed. He's secure in the knowledge that Scar's still here, he's got him. everything is okay.

Everything is more than okay.

"'m gonna live like a raisin," he says as a vague threat, or a promise, or— or something. Something mildly delirious. He's never getting out of this lake. It's too nice. He's going to stay here and submerge himself in bliss and escapism.

“Yes!” Scar croaks out amidst some airy laughter. “Join me in the raisin life, Grian!” 

Scar's laughter echoes around Grian, setting bright, joyful sparks behind grian's ribcage. He could listen to that sound forever.

While keeping his arms in place, supporting Grian so that he doesn’t sink entirely, Scar ducks his face back underwater and blows some bubbles, loving the feeling of having semi-clean skin for the first time in far too long.

Grian hears the bubbles. Curiosity gets him to crack one eye open, only to see it's just Scar being silly. Unbridled, a laughter spills from him and— He's laughed before, sure. Here and there, they’ve had their moments. But never before has his laughter felt so light in this world. Unburdened.

Scar’s ears flick attentively and he pokes his head back out to share a grin— practically beaming at Grian due to the delightful sound. It’s a genuine Grian giggle and Scar is loving it. It rings like victory, dancing across the air. Scar feels like he’s won a tiny battle. (And it’s a much-needed win at that.) 

“Seriously,” Scar says, smile still pressing at the edges of his cheeks. “Dunk your head in— it feels amazing.”

The idea doesn't seem as daunting as before. Encouraged by Scar's delighted grin, Grian can't help but wish to oblige.

His wings flutter a little, and then he's tilting himself, taking a breath. No more warning is given before he fully submerges his head.

The water rushes around him, muffling the world instantly. It's warm all around him.

Just like Scar before, Grian also brings his arms to rub at his hair, reveling in the feeling until he needs to come up for air. He pushes his now-wet hair out of his face and blinks, before he settles with twinkling eyes set on scar, a wild grin on his lips. "I did it!" And he finds that he wants to do it again.

“Isn’t our hair disgusting?” Scar says, laughing and smiling like that’s somehow a good thing. 

"It’s sooo gross," Grian agrees with a laugh. He drifts closer, reaching out to run his fingers into Scar's wet hair and rub at his scalp, wanting him to feel nice.

Scar makes an approving, happy hum and leans into the touch. “And you’d touch the gross hair? Wow, you must like me or something. How embarrassing,” Scar croons, grinning with all his teeth as he pesters Grian.

A growling noise rolls out of grian, but it sounds wrong, soft and unthreatening. He grins right back, and he moves closer, gaze flicking to Scar's lips. "Yeah. I guess I do like you. Or something." And then he presses on Scar, pouncing to use his own weight to push Scar under water. "But you should really wash them some more," he notes playfully with a laugh.

Scar barks out a half-yelp half-laugh as he’s submerged, bubbles rising to the surface until the noise escapes the watery prison when he comes back up. ”Wow,” Scar grumbles, absolutely no bite to his bark. “And here I was being so nice.”

Completely unphased by Scar's grumble, Grian cackles. And then he leans forward, hands settling on the sides of Scar's jaw as both of them drip water. 

Grian's eyes close and he kisses Scar.

“Oh,” Scar’s mouth barely forms the words before he’s pressing closer, greedily kissing back. There’s a bit of whiplash from going from being dunked under to being kissed, but it’s a pleasant sort of ride, the kind of dizzying back and forth he would have always expected from Grian. Part of the reason he was always so drawn in.

Bouncing lightly in the water, Grian breaks the kiss only to press a laugh against the corner of Scar's mouth. He's holding onto him, fingers finding their way back into Scar's wet hair. His feathers trail ripples behind him. "Do you want to help me wash my hair?" he ends up asking, sounding so very hopeful and impulsive, eyes alight as he peers up to meet Scar's gaze.

“Yes!” Scar exclaims, instant. Because he really does want to. 

Grian's expression brightens and softens simultaneously at Scar's quick agreement. Eager excitement settles abuzz under his skin, oddly fitting alongside the newfound looseness of his muscles. 

Scar removes one of his supporting hands first, testing if Grian isn’t still melting into the water too much to handle it without them.

Grian shifts to readjust, to carry his own weight and stay floating. He gives Scar a small nod. "Floating raisin-in-training," he reassures, wildness tipping into an almost timid grin.

Scar snickers, highly amused by the continued bit. "I'm very impressed with the raisin's progress," he teases as he removes his other hand, allowing Grian to wade freely. "I wish we had soap. I still don't understand how to make soap." It's a mournful statement, but Scar manages to keep his tone light, as if it's a joke and not a genuine problem. He opens both palms and wiggles his fingers in a goofy invitation, letting Grian lead the way on how he wants to do this.

Grian doesn't, in fact, know how to do this. He just knows he wants Scar's fingers rub at his scalp and brush through his hair and he wants it all to be nice and good. (He wonders if his hair will be fluffy when it dries. Fluffy hair and somewhat clean skin. A luxury.) (He wonders how will Scar look at him, then.) "Should I... turn my back to you?" he wonders.

But turning his back carries many things with it. (Namely his wings.)

Scar’s eyes flick to the sprawled out feathers—a lightning-fast glance, trying not to be noticed—before he hums in thought. He doesn’t want Grian to have to reel his wings back in. He likes that Grian is finally relaxing them like this, having them splayed out without care. 

So instead, he tries to say that this is good. That he likes facing Grian and looking at him. He steals a kiss, quick and gentle, drawing Grian’s attention away from any implications turning around might have.

Grian lets Scar's affection easily distract him; for once, he's not hyper-aware and hyper-vigilant about his wings, and so the warning thought dissipates before it even has a chance to form properly, everything in him instead paying attention to Scar's adoration and the promise of getting his hair washed. He giggles quietly into the kiss at Scar's exclamations. "Alright. All yours." 

Scar’s heart swells at all yours, the words satisfying something small yet primal deep inside his chest. 

But as it turns out, Grian floating in the water on his belly really isn’t a position suitable for hair washing. They fumble, Scar trying to throw out some pointless, dead-end suggestions, staying lighthearted even as it’s becoming clear that there’s no way around this.

Grian hums, glancing at his wings—the top feathers are still dry, as his wings float the inner-side down. The seeping warmth from the water keeps them relaxed and feeling good, and Grian doesn't even realise he's considering them without the usually instant flare up of anxiety.

"Let me try something," he murmurs, an edge of experimental pensiveness to his tone. He pushes himself away from Scar, using him solely for momentum, so he wouldn't have to wade to get more space. He spins, water rippling, feathers gliding across it.

He doesn't make enough space. His primaries almost brush against Scar.

Scar flinches back to avoid the wings, shocked by the casual nature in which Grian is currently treating them. He’s relieved, certainly, but slightly nervous as well. “You better not be trying to escape, you have a good fifty-some minutes of relaxation left, mister.”

Grian glances over his shoulder, chuckling at him, but doesn't deign to answer. He's climbing to the shallower part again; his wings are heavy, dragging him down as he fights them and flaps them around, sending droplets through the air. He curls them, bringing them forward, and with a squinted focus, slowly lowers them back down.

The water turns murky again in an instant, as the backs of grian's wings hit water. He almost slips off the perch of the platform as a wave of weakness rushes through him at how good the warm water feels on those spots. His eyes flutter shut without him intending for it, and a groan leaves his throat.

And then he's slipping off the edge back into the depths, this time purposefully. his wings are spread around him, messy and wet and wide, and—

He semi-floats on his back, his hair now dipped in water. It feels so insanely relaxing—a word he was forgetting even exists; he lets out a dazed hum, eyes still closed, temporarily forgetting his mission is to get back to scar.

Scar chuckles quietly to himself, trying to shield the sound with the back of his hand. He’s able to ignore the distress the muddied water caused him last time, too enthralled by the wide span of Grian’s wings, which he hasn’t seen in so long. 

 Even dirtied and drenched in water, they’re beautiful.

“Should I leave you alone with the water for a bit—?” Scar teases after another moment of admiring Grian. “Would hate to interrupt.” 

Despite saying that, his hands itch to touch. They twitch and he hides them underwater, remaining patient.

"Mmmm." Grian lets the water gently push him around, and he keeps his eyes closed for a while, staying silent after Scar's question. But then he remembers: he's going to get his hair washed. Scar's fingers are going to press and rub against his scalp and—

"Please do interrupt," he begs, dark eyes dazedly finding Scar.

“If you insist,” Scar says like he’s not equally as antsy. He approaches with caution, careful to wade between any scattered feathers, then wiggles his fingers on either side of Grian’s head. “Any requests? Gentle? Deep tissue massage? Kisses or no kisses?” He hovers over Grian’s head as he asks, grinning.

Grian peers up at Scar, upside-down, and even though he appreciates Scar’s silliness and him offering choices, decision-making feels a bit overwhelming right now. 

And yet as soon as he catches sight of Scar, he can’t help but tilt his head more, desiring more closeness. His hair submerges, obliging towards the task at hand, but there’s far more than that in the simple gesture: Grian’s throat is bare (so is the rest of him, to be fair) (exposed wings included), and there’s something eager about the way his lips fall slightly apart. “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Without hesitation, Scar leans down, smiling. “Oh excellent, that was my recommendation anyway!” He plants a kiss on Grian’s forehead to start, just a taste of what he’s offering, then threads his fingers into Grian’s flowing hair underwater, keeping his touch tentative for the time being.

Grian hums, both at the kiss and at the touch, a sound that reverbs in his throat. His wings spread a little more. He’s feeling pleasant and pleased, edging that state of melting into everything.

Scar starts by running his fingers through Grian’s hair, mapping out the territory and smoothing out his locks to make it easier for the proper cleaning. 

Helpless to stop it, Grian finds his eyes falling shut again. Everything's so pleasant and lulling, he can almost imagine falling asleep here. (He's certainly tired enough for it, the dark bruising under his eyes speaking volumes about that.) He wants Scar to keep touching him, to keep brushing his fingers through his hair, to— to be here, in this, with him.

“Good?” Scar checks even though he knows the answer, his fingers still gentle; he wants to hear Grian say it, confirm that this is happening, that this moment is real amidst this server of hostility and cruelty.

“Good,” Grian purrs mindlessly.

Scar slowly adds more pressure, lightly scratching at Grian's scalp for maximum effect, trying to provide as much relief as he can. 

Grian lets out little noises—sleep-laced, groggy little things—as he melts against every Scar's touch. He wants to tell him how really, really good it feels, but he can't find coherent enough words, nor make his vocal cords work. He just floats, in more ways than one. "'m sleep," he murmurs, as a warning. 

He wants to look up at Scar, but his eyelids are heavy, his body gently bobbing in water that keeps him warm and relaxed. Scar continues effortlessly lacing his fingers through curls and working small bundles of hair through his fingertips to loosen any pesky dirt that's made home there, finding almost as much pleasure in this little routine as Grian does.

"Gosh, making it my job to keep you from drowning?" Scar scolds lightheartedly with absolutely no disdain. Truthfully, the wings might be working as enough of a feather floatie for Grian anyway, but Scar doesn't mind making up for where they slack. 

"Mmmmhm," Grian confirms. His muscles are so lax. He forgot this was even possible. He hasn't felt pleasantly sleepy in so long—so many horrible dreams and endless fears and never-ending tension. This hot spring is tempting him to succumb to everything it offers, and Scar's hands are breaking the last of his resistance. "Won't let me..." he trails off, meaning to say won't let me drown. The sentense stays broken, sinking out of Grian's reach. "Trust," he murmurs, barely audible, word slurred with sleep.

Scar's about to ask who won't let him sleep, but understands that's not what's being said after he continues listening. He smiles. "Of course not," he confirms, lightly scratching behind Grian's earwings, a spot he himself took great relief from.

The scratch behind Grian's earwings sends something in him skittering and haywire in the best of ways. He chirps through the haze of sleep, unable to catch himself. His earwings flutter against the water, sending a small spray of droplets around them, but they settle back down quickly enough, limp like the rest of him. A drawn-out coo is coaxed from Grian's throat as he blindly tilts his head further into it, chasing the pleasant touch. 

There's no tension to Grian’s expression, no fear marring the space between his brows.

It feels like a dream, if this world ever knew such a thing as good dreams.

Scar chews at his lip, swallowing down all the comments we wants to make about how adorable Grian is all relaxed and bird-brained. He's not so sure Grian is sleepy enough to resist groaning and quipping back at that, so he resists, wanting him to continue drifting. 

He directs his fingertips over Grian's temple and to the top of his forehead, grazing his nails over the skin as gently as he can and massaging into the base of his hair. And he lingers. Keeps rubbing circles and tracing across Grian's hairline, taking his fine time as if he intended to clean each individual strand.

The way Scar is touching him would make Grian go positively insane if it wouldn't turn him into an incoherent puddle first. He hums, quiet, the sound barely there, edging dreamy delirium under Scar's attentive guidance. 

He really does feel himself drifting, sleep latching on and consciousness waning. The combination of stacked-up tiredness and the wholly complete relaxation are taking him over and, before he even fully realises what's happening, he's completely limp, breath evening out. 

He dips a little in the water, but stays mostly afloat anyway. Scar preemptively lifts one knee to catch Grian if his body starts to dip too far underwater, but he seems steady enough for the time being. 

Content with his successful attempt to get Grian to relax, Scar goes for softer motions, just enough to keep the flow of pleasant sensations going without doing anything that could wake his sleeping bird. 

After a minute or so, Scar sneaks a proper glance at Grian’s splayed out wings, how they fill the water around them with dirt and smaller pieces of debris. He has to resist plucking a twig from a close-by cluster of feathers, praying the water will do it for him. He settles for what he can do for now, not willing to abuse the trust Grian is offering him here by pushing his luck.

He hums a soothing, soft melody as he works, filling the space as he gets Grian’s hair clean, hoping to keep the avian’s sleep relaxed and nice. Without nightmares, for once. Warm and safe and spoiled. 

Such strange concept for this world.

And yet even those things can exist here.

Scar watches his sleeping bird and he thinks that maybe there’s hope for them still after all.

[curiositymemes]

ENCHANTED APRIL SENTENCE STARTERS.

taken from the 1991 film, an adaptation of the 1922 novel by elizabeth von arnim. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“it seems so wonderful and it's such a miserable day.”

“it’s not worth wasting one’s time thinking about.” 

“i don’t suppose that means much to you. sometimes it doesn’t mean much to me, either.”

“you look as though you wanted it as much as i do.” 

“you look so beautiful and so sad.” 

“if you wish for something hard enough, it happens.”  

“but no one will know I’m there even if i am.”

“have you ever seen things in a kind of flash before they happen?” 

“i’m sure it must be wrong to be good for so long you become miserable.”

“i can see you’ve been good for years, and you aren’t happy.”

“i’ve been doing things for other people since i was a little girl, and i don’t believe i’m loved any better.” 

“you must believe I’ve never spoken to anyone like this in my life.”

“i don’t know what’s come over me.” 

“you should have been there, my dear. i missed you.”

“that’s rather a depressing thought.” 

“god must know an awful lot. why doesn’t he do something?” 

“there’s something immoral about all this.”

“all i wish to do is sit in the shade and remember better times and better men.”

“i hope you’re not in the habit of seeing dead people, however distinguished. it’s not in the best of taste.”

“i mean, we’re not businessmen, are we? they have to distrust each other.” 

“i want to just sit and not talk and not think.”

“well, it’s very wearing. everyone makes demands… especially men.” 

“you look lovely.” / “i know. thank you, name.” 

“we could both do with a change.”

“it really is the most extraordinary coincidence.”

“I’m afraid it’s all settled, name. i can’t go back on my word.” 

“do you suppose it’s all real?”

“were you ever in your whole life so happy?”

“i promised myself the first thing to happen in this place would be a kiss.”

“we were going to choose the nicest room for you.”

“we were going to make it pretty for you with lots of flowers.”

“you shouldn’t be so independent that people have no chance to be generous.”

“you know, i hadn’t realized you were so pretty.”

“you’re really quite lovely.” 

“i was just thinking about cuckoos for some reason.” 

“i suppose you realize we’ve got to heaven.”

“i intend to spend most of my time reading by myself.”

“you have the most interesting habit of answering a question with the same question.”

“if i can be left quiet for one month, forget things… i might be able to get myself straight.”

“i’ve wasted so much time being beautiful.”

“what she really wants is to be left alone.” 

“soon she won’t have to try… she’ll just be herself without trying.” 

“don’t worry about me. I’m just lying here thinking.” 

“then i have had all the trouble of coming out here for nothing.”

“we’ve just discovered it.” 

“why don’t you like us being here?”

“we just didn’t know about it, that’s all.”

“i’ve written and told him everything.”

“it would be mean not to share all this.”

“the important thing is to have lots of love about.”

“i had this obsession with justice, you see.”

“i’d like to stay here and think.” 

“that’s very imprudent and very improper.”

“have you noticed how difficult it is to be improper with no men about?” 

“it’s a good feeling, getting rid of things.”

“i want to love name, but not necessarily spend every night with him.”

“i haven’t felt this restless since i was a child.”

“it’s too absurd for someone my age.”

“i feel something is going to happen. but i won’t let it.” 

“it’s odd how one’s mind slips sideways in a place like this.”

“if you knew me, you’d know how strange it was.” 

“there’s no way back.”

“isn’t it beautiful here, name? the air is golden.”

“you’re here. that’s the important thing.”

“you’ve every right to be angry with me.”

“where else would you meet such interesting people?”

“i don’t want name worried in any way.”

“i like him. I didn’t think i would, but i do.” 

“all the advantages i was born with, and i’ve misused them.” 

“i have it all. why can’t i hold onto it?”

“you have a gift for happiness.”

“well, it’s like coming home.”

“i mean, well… i don’t know what i mean.”

“i’d believe any place you lived in would be exactly like you.” 

“isn’t it better to feel young somewhere than old everywhere?”

“oh, good gracious, child.”

“so you see, dear boy, you must stay here.” 

“it’s such a pretty story.”

“i thought you might be bored.”

“sweetheart… i’m so glad you came.”

“you’re right, name. it’s this place.”

“and i’m late on your very first evening. do forgive me.” 

“it’s a great thing to get on with one’s loving and not waste time.”

“she sees what we can’t see because she loves him.”

“oh, dear name, we must be friends forever and forever.”

“i couldn’t help noticing how miserable you seemed.”

“oh, what the devil. it’s too beautiful a night to be miserable.” 

“all my dead friends don’t seem worth reading tonight. they always say the same things, good things, but always the same.” 

“i’m tired of the dead. i want the living.” 

“thank you, my dear. i was feeling a little melancholy.” 

“it does seem that people can only be happy in pairs, all sorts of pairs.” / “then you and i will be a pair, name. we’re going to be very good friends.” 

“the roses are in love in the rose garden.”

“but that’s another story.”

[cassiaslair]

from i prevail's album, trauma ( 2019 ). slightly modified to fit dialogue prompts. if it's in parentheses, feel free to omit it.

bow down.

get on your knees & bow down.

i come alive, i'll survive, take on anything.

so paint a target on my back, let 'em come to me.

i'm on another level that you'll never reach.

if you seek forgiveness, you'll get nothing from me.

you will never know, it's the price i pay.

look into my eyes, we are not the same.

i'm in control, & you'll know my name.

i gave my life, gave it everything.

the best of your best ain't good enough.

keep running your mouth, & i'ma call your bluff.

so... i had this dream, it meant everything, & i watched it come alive.

i let you in, underneath my skin, & i learned to love the lies.

now i lay awake & i contemplate... have i become what i hate?

would you go to war? would you die for it?

paranoid.

something isn't right, i feel it in my bones.

every time i look around, it follows me home.

i get so stressed out when my head gets loud.

all this emptiness inside, i can't fill the void in my mind.

sometimes i just wanna die (wish that i could tell you why).

is it all inside my head?

i just can't escape the noise.

i think i'm paranoid.

every time you leave.

all i ever wanted was to find someone.

holding it together is the hardest part.

every time you leave, i lose a little piece of me.

every time we speak, words don't do it justice.

it's just us from here.

finishing the puzzle is the hardest part.

everyday wishin' you could stay, 'cause our minds may change, but our hearts remain.

i can't believe you gotta go away again.

if you ever start to hesitate & you feel the weight, it starts to break.

we're not the same; know that this means everything to me.

no one said life gets in the way.

rise above it.

i've been patiently waiting, tying my stomach in knots.

i've been lost in the moment, going to war with my thoughts.

if you're feeling the pressure, the pressure's all that i got.

so if you think you're ready, i'm here to tell you you're not.

you're in over your head.

i'll be damned if i ever let you get me again.

i will stop at nothing 'cause i was made to rise above it.

one of these days, everyone will know (but for now i stand alone).

i count my enemies like trophies.

i've got nothing left to prove.

when i look at you, all i see are trophies.

i'm not afraid to put it all on the line (like it runs in my veins).

you cannot stop me, so don't even try.

breaking down.

i think... i think too much.

i'm a little bit paranoid.

i think i'm breaking (down).

maybe it's in my blood.

hate every single second, minute, hour, every day.

everybody's out to get you.

every time they ask me, i just tell 'em that i'm fine.

i try to hide my demons, but they only multiply.

everybody fucking hates you.

i say i'm feeling hopeless, but no one's listening.

i don't really like myself.

DOA.

on our knees, we pray as we waste away.

we dig our grave, dead on arrival.

i close my eyes & contemplate on why i chose to be great.

i find myself trying to escape from where i'm supposed to be safe.

maybe i should pray like i'm supposed to be saved.

sometimes i feel like getting even, but i choose to behave.

i'm mentally locked in a prison (& i need bail).

i wish i was more flourished. i wish i had more courage.

i wonder if it's all worth it (i wonder...).

dead is the land of the free.

am i not worth saving?

gasoline.

let's burn it fucking down.

back from the dead to tell you that i'm alive.

killed the old way (but i survived).

fuck the blueprint.

death or exile, you decide.

tell 'em all that i made my name.

now it's mine to send up in flames.

this right here is as far as you go.

this right here is where i lose control.

burn it all down, i don't give a fuck.

fuck what they say, fuck everything.

kill it all (kill everything).

nothing but red inside when i close my eyes.

break or bow down, you decide.

tell 'em all that you can't be saved.

tell 'em all that you dug this grave.

learn to live in this mess you made.

hurricane.

tell me i was never good enough.

remind me of the demons that i've been running from.

tell me who the hell you thought i was.

just blame it on the person, the person i've become.

lately, i don't give a fuck.

i can't be myself when i'm with anyone.

(&) maybe, i'm already gone.

i'll never be the same.

it hit me like a hurricane.

i don't know why i drown my mind (in everything they say).

it got the best of me.

tell me that i'm lost inside my mind.

i reach out, but it's pulling me under.

remind me i've been searching for something i won't find.

tell me i was never worth the time.

just blame it on the person you think i left behind.

look into my eyes.

believe me that the storm is coming.

let me be sad.

i'm holding back right now.

('cause) i'm numb to what's around.

i miss the life i used to have (with you right here).

now everything is turning grey.

i'm blacking out the shades for now.

let me be sad.

let me be sad, even for a little while. just a chance to catch my breath.

let me be sad, even for a little while, 'cause it's all that i have left.

can you see it in my eyes, i've been distant?

i can't tell if it's the end or the beginning.

i know i haven't been myself, i'll admit it.

i put up walls so if i burned any bridges, just know i'm doing everything i can to try & fix it (but knowing me i'll probably miss it).

these voices get so vicious.

feels like i'm ripping stitches.

i wish some days i could go back (before life changed, it was so fast).

that time is gone, & i know that (so please, let me be sad).

when all i see are memories, i don't wanna lose a thing.

low.

i'm so damn low.

i can't lie, i'm falling (the floor gave out again).

the walls are caving in.

i've got these voices in my head.

i don't know why i'm broken.

my world is sinking in.

they tell me that i'm not enough.

is it my time?

even when i'm high, i still feel low.

voices in my head won't leave me alone.

i keep falling.

i'm in over my head again.

i'm on my own, i know it.

i think i'm too far gone to save.

i can't let go. i'm holding, i feel it slip away.

the more they say, the more they cut.

i'm hanging by a thread (don't know if i let go).

i'm doing everything i can to fix the problem.

this is how it feels when you hit rock bottom.

deadweight.

i'm cutting out the deadweight.

let me take a second to get this through to you.

it's time you get put in the rearview.

cut ties, there's nothing left to your lies, i'm seeing right through.

let me lay it out so it's clear for you to see.

i'm done with the ones that don't believe.

i'm cutting out the ones who drag me down.

all this negativity weighing down on me.

admit it's so pathetic to think i'd carry you.

i'd rather watch all the lows you sink to.

now i can see what you're really all about.

turn your back & run your mouth.

i laugh at all the time you wasted.

you're bitter, i can fucking taste it.

so if you think that you can drag me down, it's gonna come back around.

keep it up, motherfucker (i'll cut you out).

i don't belong here.

'cause i don't belong here.

those days, it was all i wanted.

nowadays, it feels all the same.

used to stare at my bedroom ceiling wishing everything would change.

now it's hard when you're always searching for the life that you left behind.

time disappears, year after year.

how the hell did i get here?

i feel so far away.

minutes turn to hours & the hours into days.

i gave up everything.

you don't know what you got until you throw it all away.

looking back on the past, all the time i wasted...

i'm running from everyone that tells me that i'm fading out.

must be mistaken 'cause i don't feel anything.

you know i got this brain, it drives me insane.

some days i feel i can't take the pain.

i can't explain it 'cause i don't need anything.

[desultory-novice]

Sorry Noir, I'm the one who said Gooey could eat the fish. I didn't know it was for you

"...Eh, it's on brand for me. As long as he enjoyed it."

(I guess I could try using my powers on it to make another, but I've never done that for, like, food and living stuff. That was always more Adeleine's thing...)

-

But trying once couldn't hurt, right? A test to see if you can still use your "gift" of materialization?

-

((...Mom, Dad, I know that on the list of bad things I've done you're horrifically ashamed of me for, using the Power Most Dark to materialize a fish ranks really, really low, but still...))

((...Also, you weren't REALLY watching from heaven during all that, were you? God... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I failed you and I failed myself and I'm such a...!!)

*POP*

"...Huh. Damn. It's just another fish bone..."

*POP**POP**POP**POP**POP**POP**POP**POP**POP*

"Uhhhh...?!"

...

[BONUS?!]

If you wish, you can have an awkward teen in an ugly scarf transport to YOUR OC a perfect duplicate of this EXACT fish bone, because *SOMEONE* may have let his intrusive thoughts mess up his experiment and now has way, way too many.

It only carries a mild Aura of Darkness.

[Noir's Field Trip Masterpost]

[thebest-medicine]

64 with ler Fjord & either Caleb or Molly? 🥺 dealers choice, but as soon as I saw that one I immediately thought of Fjord being a bully

Prompt 64 - “Relax, I’m not gonna kill ya, I’m just gonna make you wish you were dead.”

A/N: i love this for fjord. OMG. also, so… there’s this 6k ler!fjord lee!molly slightly fjolly decently mean interrogation fic im working on for tickletober and this line fit into it reaaaally well for a part where molly is in the stocks and… well… consider this my fic preview hehe (I’ll tag it here eventually when it’s posted in oct.)

,,,

“EheheHEHEHEHEEHEE- YOHOHOU’RE KILLIN’ MEEHEHEHEHE!” Molly whines through frantic laughter.

“Oh relax, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not gonna kill you.” Fjord speaks calmly, as though soothing a child. “I’m just gonna make you really, really wish you were dead.” His voice is sweet as the words drip out like honey, and Molly shivers from more than just the tickling sensations lighting up his soles.

“PFFFAHHAAHFUCK!” Molly cries — both in the sense of crying out aloud during his cackling, and in the other—more literal—sense, as tears bleed into the cloth tied over his eyes. He clasps and unclasps his fingers. He presses deeply into the seat and strains uselessly against the stocks — all for nothing. His laughter rings out boisterously as Fjord continues to scrub the brush up and down his foot, then switch to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. Overwhelming, but never enough to get desensitized to in any one place.

“PLEHEEHHEEASE!” Molly shrieks.

“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Fjord snickers, looking up from his feet to take in Mollymauk’s squirming, desperate form.

“Don’t knohohohHOOW! I dohOHON’T know wHERE—” Molly babbles incoherently, still trying to bargain with his captor.

“You don’t know where your attitude went?” Fjord laughs, pulling the brush away from his soles for the first time in far, far too long.

Molly heaves in deep, shaky breaths. “I- heh- I… What?”

Fjord hums, sounding amused. They sit in the ‘silence’ of Molly deliriously catching his breath.

“Maybe I should believe you…” Fjord says after a little time passes and Molly sounds less frenetic.

Molly tries to give his best hopeful, honest smile. It’s hard without the eyes.

Molly picks up the sound of Fjord getting up from his seat, a little relief washes over him.

Then the brush is back, and Mollymauk is wailing out a surprised bark of laughter. “WAITHAHAHA— WAIT!”

“But, on the other hand..” Fjord sighs, bringing his other hand to tickle along the sole of Molly’s right foot as he brushes up and down his left. Mollymauk almost wishes for a gag with how loudly he shouts and shrieks through desperate laughter. The hand and brush switch. They switch back a little while later.

“Hmm.” Fjord says, stopping again after a few minutes. “What do you think?”

“I thihihink I am going to die here.” Molly whimpers, smiling defeatedly.

“Not if you tell me the truth.”

“I am telling yohohohou the truth.”

“Well, I have to make sure you’re not lying.” Fjord says, and then the terrible brushing starts up again.

“Whyhyhyhyhy would I still behehehe lying- hehee?! Plehehehehease!” Molly argues as much as he can get out as he’s laughing.

“You tell me.” Fjord replies, not letting up. “Maybe you’re just a masochist.”

Molly definitely does not hate being on the receiving end of an evening like this, it’s true. He would take a moment to consider that if he had a brain cell that could focus on anything other than the incessant scrubbing of the hairbrush along his soles. It scrapes across the balls, the arches, the heel, up and down, up and down, over and over. The slick oily liquid covering his feet lets it glide with almost no resistance. All tickles, no resistance — yeah, Molly is probably going to die here.

He’s wheezing by the time Fjord stops again. He hesitates, half-pleading through his laughter, wondering when it’s going to start up again.

It doesn’t… And Fjord doesn’t say anything.

It still doesn’t… And then, finally, Fjord’s pulling down the blindfold. “Hey, there.”

Molly’s eyes adjust weakly to the light, the blindfold is damp with his tears. He mutters some kind of reply before closing his eyes again. “Fjord…”

“Mollymauk.” Fjord says, leaving the blindfold down around his neck and standing back up.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read further CR drabbles on ao3]