#Neon’s writing prompts

[neontokyoo]

Quotes from my D&D campaign: pt 1 (so I can collect them for writing purposes to add some extra chaos to my stories)

“HA! WE RAN AWAY FROM THERAPY— Oh. That’s very symbolic….”

“Well… if I die, I expect to see you all crying at my funeral. But if I don’t die, then when this is all over, I would love it if you guys could help me kill my ex husband… Until we meet again. 🫡” “You have an ex husband?” “Well, duh! Where do you think my child came from? It was a team effort. And right now that abusive bitch deserves to die.”

“Daddy is a state of mind.”

“Who’s your daddy now, bitch?”

“Please don’t kill Aurie, she’s just a silly mother trying to provide for a child who doesn’t even know her by scamming people and sleeping around. 🤷🏻‍♀️” - dm “See?! Even the gods can agree with me!” “You can hear the gods?” “Wait! What are they saying right now???” “well… I uh… hey! The weather is looking very lovely today!”

“Guys help! My sister has cancer!” “……” “How is your deception so good???” “See!? I told you she had cancer!” “Girl…. If I had cancer I would be bald.” “YOU WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME???” “Well, duh. I’m part of the group.”“Shit!” “Well, she’s good at deceiving people, but not when all the evidence we need is right here.” “I was kidding. This is a wig. I really do have cancer.” “THEY’RE BOTH GOOD LIARS?!!”

“Guys, I finally found a good book for our wizard friend!” “*sigh* What is it now?” ”It is called: The Art of Seduction.” “Seriously, Aurelia??? Why do you keep buying me these things? First it was ‘A Guide to Pegging’ and now THIS???” “Hey! Coming from ✨the queen✨ of manipulation, you gotta know what the people want in order to strike a deal and make them give you the information you need! I’m just teaching you how to do that the right way without cursing and slaughtering people. You should thank me. 💅🏻” “You sick fuck.”

“If you call me ‘booger’ one more time, I will smite you.”

“Aurie, you are seriously not trying to flirt with the Vampires right now 🤦🏻‍♂️” “In my defense, he was flirting with me first.” “Aurelia—” “Hey! It’s a win-win for everyone. We fuck, and then he’ll give me all the information we need and we can keep going and forget all about it.” “If you end up getting pregnant again with blood-sucking monsters, we’re leaving you here to figure it out yourself.”“How stupid do you think I am? We have protection. 🙄”

“Sorry to interrupt your tickle party, but where did you put my books?” “Ooh! Did someone say party!?” “WHY IS EVERYONE IN MY ROOM???” “Why didn’t you wait and make sure we were all asleep first? Gods, you’re so fucking loud, I hope you die of STD’s!”

“Okay. What the FUCK is that thing!?” “Oh. This is just a cum jar I found.” “And you all say that I have problems…. Come here, let me see it. *sniff* Honey, that’s just curdled milk.” “WELL GET RID OF IT!!”

“Aurelia, I swear to the gods, if you don’t take that vampire back where he came from, I am going to chop his dick off, and kill him in the most gruesome way possible.” “That’s unnecessary. His name is Lucien, he saved me so I saved him and now he’s joining us. He’s my new boyfriend.” “HE’S WHAT?!”

More coming soon.

our poor wizard 😭

[the-overanalyst]

it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️

[youssefguedira]

@materassassino sent me a prompt but in my exhaustion and lack of brain cells i answered the ask without writing the actual thing and then deleted it so. oops.

but the prompt was extremely sleepy Nicky is different from normal Nicky, so have a very silly little thing

"Leave him alone," Joe is saying without any real annoyance, "it's the deepest he's slept in weeks." He's in one of the armchairs, ignoring the book on his lap in favour of Andy, who's perched on the arm of the couch.

When Nile gets close enough to see over the back of the couch she has to blink a couple times: it's Nicky, completely passed out, currently with three books balanced on his chest while Andy holds a fourth. They rise and fall as he breathes. He's completely dead to the world.

"Is he asleep?" Nile asks, because she still can't quite believe that Nicky, of all people, is sleeping through that. Andy places the fourth book with careful precision and reaches for a fifth.

The thing is, Nicky has a hair trigger for being woken up. Nile learned this a week after meeting him, when she startled him by walking into the living room of their most recent safehouse while he was sleeping on the couch (on watch, but she'd forgotten) and he'd already been reaching for the gun on the side table before she realised he was even there, and then he'd apologised for the gun thing, and told her he hadn't "learned what her footsteps sound like" yet.

After a while he'd stopped going for the weapons whenever she surprised him, but he'd still wake at the slightest sound. Andy's got a similar thing going, but she's a little bit slower, whereas Joe does wake fast, but definitely isn't all the way alert the way Nicky is.

She'd wondered if it was down to what happened in Goussainville, but when she'd finally worked up the courage to ask, because she was starting to wonder if he ever actually slept properly, Joe had just laughed and said he'd always been like that.

But once Andy had decided that the loose ends from Merrick had been sufficiently tied up, she'd called for a couple weeks of downtime, and before that Nicky had been on recon duty, sleeping even less and even worse than usual. So she's not surprised he's sleeping: she's surprised he's still asleep.

"Pass me a couple more," Andy says to Joe, who sighs, but does grab two from nearby and pass them over.

Nile looks between them, and then at Nicky. "That's not gonna wake him up?"

Joe chuckles. "Not when he's like this," he says. "He won't wake for another hour or two. Definitely not until dinner."

Nile blinks at him. Joe, sure, she could believe. Andy, too - Nile's pretty sure she sleeps more during the day than she does at night. She's almost as bad as Nicky for lurking in dark rooms at night. But Nicky?

"He doesn't do this very often," Joe explains. "But the rest of us are awake, and everything's dealt with, for now, so he's comfortable enough."

"Booker built an entire house of cards on him, once," Andy says. "Record for books is, what, nineteen?"

"Eighteen," Joe says. "2012."

Andy places a sixth book and reaches for a seventh. Nile thinks for a moment.

"Only eighteen?" she says.

Andy's grin can only be described as wicked. "That's the spirit," she says. "Pass me another."

Nicky wakes at twenty-one, prompting the entire pile to crash onto the floor, which makes him scramble upright until his brain comes all the way back online, at which point he clocks why the three of them are laughing so hard there are tears in Joe's eyes, and curses them out in five languages.

But he's smiling while he does it, all the same.

[myreputatioooon]

you can (not) become whole again

[jen-with-a-pen]

Alice idk what the FUCK kinda drugs you smuggled into this simple, singular ask, but goddamnit it made me sprint to my docs and start writing for the first time in God knows when. I literally have created an au in a matter of hours of seeing this. Fuck you and thank you🫣😋😈

[this is currently an untitled au and a WIP]

Photographer!Dark!Bucky Barnes x RunwayFashionModel!Reader

The overhead spotlights drop the second the showrunner points to the cameras, who, in turn, point to you. Big white bounce cards blind your peripherals and the sound of murmurs throughout the studio, executives and assistants alike, work their way into your ears. The voices swirl into one drone of static and the lights start getting brighter and brighter. Your grip on the arms of the chair grows tighter. Manicured fingernails threaten to dig into the upholstery, the gaudy necklace resting on your chest beginning to brand into your skin. The makeup caked onto your flesh feels like it’s melting, taking your dermis with it.

You can't tear your eyes away from behind the host's head, staring off into space and trying not to focus on the bile beginning to bubble in your pitted stomach.

You knew you should've eaten something.

As the host waits for her after-ad-break cue, shuffling her question cards and sipping coffee from her custom show-branded cup, you feel restless. Legs bouncing out of sync, begging to get up, to run off set and out onto the bustling streets below and never look back. Maybe a bus or cab will make it end, make it stop. You were never cut out for this, never supposed to be here.

"Bunny."

You gasp, your trance broken as the deep bass sounding out your nickname cuts through the noise. It's like oxygen for you. He is oxygen for you. You can’t escape him willingly- he’ll only find a way to be there. To always be there.

You whip your head around to face the herd of people and producers staring at you. Out of all of them, through the blinding lights, you meet his gaze. All six feet four inches, built-like-a-god, broad shoulders of him. His eyes shine like sea glass behind the camera operator, baby blue and looking only at you. For that moment, you are the only one he sees. His target. His. You are the only one he can touch, who he can feel, halfway across the room.

The pit only grows larger, filling your hunger with nausea. You'd bet all the money in the world he schmoozed some P.A. just to make sure he was there to see you. To surveil you.

You wish you were playing in traffic.

[coldshrugs]

22 or 42 for sensory prompts? 👀

neon moon

prompt: 22. Neon lights at 1:30am - thanks ash!! pairing: io / estinien (modern AU) word count: 1.3k note: takes place during the roommate years. io is dating mikoto. estinien is definitely not jealous.

At 1 AM, Estinien looks down into the half-finished beer he's nursed for twenty minutes, neon bar signs reflected on its surface. The glass is going warm in his hand as he stares at what's left of the dissipating foam, pretending to count the little clusters of bubbles popping as the minutes pass…

If he looks down, he doesn't have to look up. If he doesn't look up, he can ignore his friends (and hers, but the two groups congealed into one about a year ago) having a good time just on the other side of the bar, gathered around a pool table, trading shots in loosely formed teams. He won't have to grapple with the emotion that twists in his gut each time his eyes land on Io.

His previous therapist would tell him to name the emotion. Estinien makes a list.

Annoyance? Yeah, he is annoyed by the short, bubbly girl sticking to her side like a fucking shadow. He's annoyed at the way they can't seem to keep their PDA to themselves, arms draped over shoulders or around waists. They might as well announce their date to the whole bar and include a footnote about their intentions afterward.

Frustration, there's another. Everyone seems to like her—Mikoto—and he doesn't get it. Io is constantly going on and on about her: "Miko's so smart," "Miko's the sweetest," "Miko's so adorable I could die." Even Aymeric finds her charming, so he can't exactly complain to him.

Dread. Definitely dread, at the next time she'll be in their apartment (probably later tonight), all over Io on the couch, or coming out of her room in the morning to take up space in the kitchen.

Everything about this makes him itch. Better to keep to himself. It'd be a shame to ruin everyone's night.

At half past one, the music shifts from hip hop approaching vintage status, to slow pop ballads as someone new takes over the digital jukebox. Leofard takes a break from manning the bar and sidles over to him.

"You good?" His expression is difficult to read behind his tinted glasses, but something about it is uncomfortably knowing. "You don't look good."

Estinien rolls his eyes. "I'm good. I'm just… not that good." He gestures to his friends without looking.

Leofard glances over, and his irritating smirk looks incredibly punchable right now. Estinien doesn't problem-solve that way anymore, and besides, he's in no place to deny the company since everyone else is determined to be best friends with Io's girlfriend.

"You know," Leo starts, rolling his hand in front of him as he finds the words, "I'm still shocked you and Io are doing this platonic domestic bliss thing. Whatever works, right? Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise."

"There's no trouble." He finishes the last of his room-temperature beer and tips the glass towards Leofard, signaling for another. "I'm shocked you're still wondering about Io's relationship status."

Leofard's shoulders shake with an easy laugh as he fills a fresh glass and pointedly slides it to Estinien. "No, I can clearly see what hers is," —he nods to the back of the bar, and Estinien makes the mistake of turning to look— "It's yours I'm talking about."

They're still bunched around the pool table, though the game has fizzled out. Y'shtola and Lucia are hanging onto every word of Urianger's glassy-eyed lecture. Aymeric and Thancred are talking animatedly between the tables. And near the wall, bathed in the neon light of a cheesy purple cityscape with a blue moon and yellow stars, Io and her girlfriend are pressed close and swaying lazily to the song.

Mikoto's head is against Io's chest, eyes closed and cheeks red from whatever she's drinking. Her arms are wrapped tight around Io's waist, and one hand even dips low into the back pocket of her jeans. Io's chin rests on her head, and she squeezes Mikoto's shoulders in a solid embrace. For some inexplicable reason, he swears he feels the squeeze around his own.

She's smiling a little. Tipsy, but genuine.

Estinien boils.

He turns back to the bar and downs half his beer, but it does nothing to douse the fire climbing from his chest to his face.

"What about mine?" He asks Leofard. "You're dating someone, and even if you weren't… you know it's a no."

"Oh, calm down, you prick. Your hunk of petrified wood couldn't handle me. I just wanna know what the deal is! When will you finally get over the "she just needs a friend uwu" bullshit and do the damn thing?"

He considers Leo's question, stomach churning with that sickening heat, and maybe he's right. Maybe Estinien left an emotion off his list.

Jeal—

"Estinien," the voice is too close to pretend not to have heard. And he can't do that anyway. Not to Io. "You're kind of worrying me, over here by yourself. Hi, Leo."

"Hey, Io." He nods, then drifts back down the bar. Still within earshot, of course.

"What's up?" Io slides onto the stool next to him, chin propped on her hand as she studies him. Her dark eyes catch every light in this place, and somewhere in that little reflection is his own dark anger, glaring back out at him.

He sighs. "Not feeling great tonight. I think I'm heading home after this." He raises the glass to her, takes a big gulp.

"Then I'll go with you."

"No, you don't have to—"

"I don't have to." And now she smiles at him, tipsy and genuine. "I want to. Let's go get in our pajamas, and we can share a huge glass of apple juice and watch tv on the couch."

"Io. You're on a date." He finishes the beer.

"Oh, right... I forgot those are once-in-a-lifetime events! Shit!" She makes a little show out of it, shaking her fist at nothing and melting into a fake sob against the bar, before meeting him with a straight (but not sober) stare. A smile begins to curl the corner of his lips and he fights it with everything he has. "Come on, let's go home."

It's almost 2:30 in the morning when they stumble into their dim apartment. Io remembered to leave a lamp on, thank fuck, and she finds the other light switches easily.

Among the familiar clutter and comfortably worn furniture of their home, Estinien returns to himself. Maybe it wasn't the company after all. It's been a long week, and he's tired. He just wasn't in the mood for a night out. That's all.

He changes in his room while Io does the same in hers. Ignoring the inviting presence of his bed in favor of finishing the night the way she suggested, he settles on one end of the sofa and begins browsing for a show they like.

When Io leaves her room for the kitchen, it's in a pair of his sweatpants and a strappy, cropped tank top. This is far from unusual, but tonight, when he felt the ghost of her touch as she held someone else, the sight of her in his clothes sends a new heat crawling across his chest.

He doesn't watch her join him on the couch, or look at her as they pass a single cup of juice and bag of chips between them. When she yawns quietly and nestles into the couch, stretching a leg across his lap, he doesn't risk a glance.

This is Leofard's meddling getting into his fucking head. No more, no less.

Io falls asleep and Estinien turns the volume down. He looks, only to make sure she wasn't disturbed. She curls toward the back of the couch, her face soft and shadowed, her hair slipping out of its loose ponytail. The heat may be new, but the rest of it—

Name the emotion? Absolutely fucking not.

[minecraft-fanfiction-house]

Gore' Over Minecraft

Goretober Prompts By @cartexcreationsart & Oc-tober writing prompts from kharmio_’s

The Gore over Fic, play on words of Go Over of going over something or reading{or gore all over Minecraft hehe}. Might not be completing, wich is exactly why I told myself to write atleast 200 words. But hey 1696 seems like, a fine number to be <3

The Poacher's Curse

Summeray, not as poacher oc focused <3

TW & Warning - Gutspilling - Rotting

- Character introduction

This isnt beta-read and not good pacing... but I did get to write my oc and brainstorm what a ravaged werewolf priest would look like, but their aren't that good of detailed scenes.. I mean I dont have to warn about that, I can be as bad as i want I'm only warming up to november.

but i cant help but overexplain know can I- Hah! <3 Thank you for reading, and yknow what yeah sure criticise the obvious be the beta-reader I never asked to read over before I post Haha! oh if you want, my friends are gonna hype me over my writing{Ive yapping to long on my tumblr than my ao3 notes}

Staring blankly at the stars, losing my mind, and spacing out. My neck crunches, like I was a creeper dried over the seasons.

Clutching my journal with a Ravager icon, I posture myself to clutch it with both arms and hang it over my robe. My brain slowly seeps out what I was losing my head about as I move like a statue.

Looking at the path, going away to the rotting frog spiked by an anti-herbivore branch, being eaten alive by butterflies. 

The cliff might be a nice way to catch the wind, but oh do I love the leaves, the breeze dodging trees and hitting me. My shoes clopped onto the stones that bloom from my view, my tail curling like a flame the fireflies making stary hues, the wind grazing my horns to ice, and my tusk tasting like bones with the smell of a sweet candle. 

As any teeth taste like.

I remember getting those candles from a while ago for my church. The circular granite building on the other side of the cliff sees the ocean horizon of trees. It’s a swampy mangrove, so there is a lot more ocean for the mangroves.

I clank on the steps inside the church, sliding my feet elegantly to the side of my shoe. The jewelled fireflies that go down my robe, flicker up with light. \\as if they were still alive, but hey they're appreciated. Are these taxidermy with cotton? I never asked as much as I forget.

Clopping my way in I see the stage, or one slabbed stage with a cobblestone book holder. With moss coated like glitter mold, pretty.

“Good stature nurse’s apprentice, I'm glad if you seem to get it as a habit.”

I nod with a smile and greeting.

An Evoker doctor needs some spirits to help in sickness to soothe in death. A bit like Vex nurses from those novels; A vex playing gently with a telescope from movies, and another vex holding an axe for happy amputations.

Usual mansions aren't that organized and even the evokers know just how to raid. Which would make them sound stupid, but oh well.

“Heheheha.”

“What are you laughing about?” 

“Ehehe.”

“What an answer.” Priest clapped sarcastically, clasping their hands together in their priest wear. Simple and modesty to the swamps royal purple. 

European rulers hated us. {Elizabeth}

“Well let's get to work.” Preistest chirped, “I have some task for you to help out in medical research, I told you during the Eclipse funeral festival.” 

Some people refer to it as a peekaboo festival during the day people thought the sun died, and the religion was separated in interpretations of whether necromancy was ok.

“Right” If I could remember from yesterday in church, that one thing he might've told me over the music before jazzing…

‘The life, and uniqueness from the dark abstraction that light gives. Let the firefly guide your power in your worth and uniqueness.’...‘There is peace to being hidden with the shade the sun gives us, as its creature we see in the dark that glows that guide us.’

It was a great festival, that's all I remember with all the food.

I follow down the triangular top-cut sandwich steps. With two moons I bet it can have glasses. Or would that be a werewolf and some random werefox? Are werefoxs moon or astroid adjacent, or would that be another mammal? Would it be wrong to use two cobblestone rocks as sunglasses? {with the deities of the moon in mind…}

Twirling a round to the first portrait, and some candles. I sometimes sit there in an abandoned church stairwell. But I haven't been hanging out with coffin-eyes for some time, abroad in all. Not that I lived by her place.

With each step, I hardly pass a glance at the stained glass window, but the sun rises seeping the stairs like pink blazes for the next stained window. 

We pass each one, more contrast, more cold, more warm. Nature, Sea, Deserts, Mobs in rays.

My legs hurt. If I haven't been doing this for a while- Ayooo! 

Hehe, I'm sounding like the witch Covetouss… Is that a title like the Head of a coven leader? 

We're here, lovely wood and the moist air of moss. Closed? This is the first time I've even been this far, and I've only ever seen this door from the outside.

“Come along now” The priest calls me over.

Tailing behind the priest, they seemed farther along, looking behind me I gave a small wave.

Ok, I take it back my calves are just aching.

Oh The Red Stained sun, overseeing poacher’s weapons and hunter’s weapons.

My shoe touched a small water puddle, that sticks a little to my shoes. They don't stick on the walls, but it is probably the lighting. 

I lower my head, glancing at the window. Staring at it, blankly, would I ever have to deal with one?

The door creaks open, only hear an echo of my mentor's boots with the metal shackle clanking only so quietly. We did pass the cobblestone gate fence with a lock, I didn't think I'd have to go down for more steps. 

Nor did I think how spacious it sounded, this isn't a cave, and from the outside by the stained glass… This way was invisible. 

Best be moving. I hear the slow footsteps up the stairs, It's probably the janitor with the way they usually take each of their steps and the bucket clanking with water.

The cut and clean cobblestone embedded with dirt in between the cracks of the cellar, I wonder if there’s wine.

Speed walking by the priest, I re-adjusted my book, only tailing behind the priest. Their tails swish more like water, or one of a snake.

 Why have I been smelling iron so strongly? 

I can see the end of the tunnel, outside in peace. Two rugged men crouching down to the perched horned man.

“The cold makes it burn.”

Ah, they're here because they need help adjusting to being a Graveager. Being blessed into a Graveager after a Ravager’s isn't for everyone, cause why enjoy grieving? I mean there are solemn holidays and moments. 

I’m not one to know.

Being born one might be natural, with some slight adjusting to turning into just an illager. I was too lazy to figure that out until I was convicted. {-Convention AbuDhabi in April * If you don't see a illager cardboard head(InJireiKei), I just failed <3}

I gaze lower to see their clothes; a simple light grey that contrasts his gray skin. The belt is buttoned with a skull button with crossing shovels.

A Mourge’s worker. Not an unusual pick, I guess that would make sense. I just don’t particularly know a lot of morgues workers

I look at the priest, with the sun-shaded light scruffing the opening of the gate, butterflies tasting rotting leg. shacklet up, and under a sheet of fabric.

They looked up at me, the green eyes looked dull, with dry cheeks, if only for the priest to want to see that man cry, but butterfly demons tempt one to enjoy blood.

It seems you're feeding the butterflies well. ‘They seem more like parasites now’ would be a great response… If they knew Gibberish, as some foreigners would say. 

My tail touches a stick, clanking with the metal spike at its head. I look back... Straight to the chained illager.

Their hand looks bruised, and the rope in the side of the room's open cell is scratched up and bloodied.

Harpoons are usually used for a whale modded into the ocean.

The cell, raw stone with moss eats the blood on the dirt floor.

The bony ribcage was broken, it looked like the aftermath of a falling ceiling filled with slimy bloodied worms spilled over the dust of rocks. Or at least their broken bones.

My nose has been scrunching from the smell, I don't know the spell that makes someone withstand rotting alive. You have to be a zombie for that.

And they have horns, a bitten-off tail, and tusks. Their clothes were slightly ripped and tightened around their body. Making their blood from small scratches pulse out unless it became puss. Did they fall in a thorn patch?

The priest decides to answer.

“Poachers deserve to suffer, it's a curse sometimes.” They rummage through their sleeve, “Well unless they mess with someone who curses. Then what are you going to do.”

Exp fell to the ground to my shined shoes. My shoulders flinch up dropping my book on the exp. I quickly picked it up and slid on the smooth stone back. 

The fireflies on my robe brightened, as I rubbed off the exp on my robe. Holding the book on my side.

This was a little more terrifying and better than letting foreign doctors and archeologists have our ancestor's bones to keep.

The priest got out a small journal. Pulling their sleeves string, closing it back again with water books that don't seem to poke out. Comfortable sleeves that seemed cushion thats for sure.

It hurts a little, that I still hear panting. The breathy and tired voice easily reached the small enclosed space. If I were a priest, I’d never have the control to use an undying totem for torture, if only the Evokers worry that they'd be a slightly different person.

“So Ghost Nurse, could you remove the stomach guts thing”

… I looked around, and just placed my book by the harpoon.

I yanked the organs, It was so warm.

“...I feel like the witch would've told you even basic of wearing a glo- I'll get the gloves,”

The priest sighed, and left to get it for me, I think. I don’t trust my assumptions. On what they said, forgetting it like a mist spritz in the nether.

Staring blankly, cracking the top back of my neck to the cellmate… The groaning sound not coming from this poacher.

 I continue to lay out the guts. It's so much more squashed inside a person. Through the iron bars, I saw The morgue worker clutching their stomach.

-1696 Words {it did change depending on wich fanfiction site I used}

It was supposed to be more than 200... Not more than 1222!Idk how I did this over one day of school, but I kept on placing pacing scenes. I had more fun when we reached into the tunnels.So for my own critique of not being able to do well using an oc introduction prompt. I should've started passing by the red stained glass, and gutspill scene... and organized the guts n all. They are an oc that came out of a cosplay in an illager head with jerai kei dress i just adore {the robe one sold out so cute skirt it is}

… Is it bad i wanna ship the gravedigger with the poacher as long as I give the poacher some complex sad story? XD

Honestly, when writing the mourge worker I thought. What if they were connected, in some way? And the dudes got some soul-connected thing with him, they both might've died and the undying totem was used at the same time. HAh!  You can you have your own interpretations <3

Trick Or Treat

{: Which chapters are delightful or wich are dreadful:}

Bitten candy

Frozen music

Or bloodspill-filled pie

The blood might be dirty from being scooped out of the ground

{Warning: Titles may be misleading and arnt promised}

[angelo-the-doctor-of-feelings]

'The Tattoo - A Baby Turts' Story'

When we were small turtles, Leon asked me if I could write 'super girl' on his left arm since I was the only one of us four that could 'write' at that time (thanks to me being an artist: I just copied what I could see, I couldn’t actually write, nor could I read!).

And there was only ONE letter sequence I was able to remember...

With the most confidence I had I wrote 'shit' on Leon's arm.

He happily ran off to papa & shortly after that, papa started yelling my name.

I hid under the kitchen sink for 30 minutes & when papa found me, he scolded me & then Donnie saw Leon's arm (he could read at that time) & laughed so hard, he actually cried.

Prepare for more of these to come! (*^▽^)/★*☆♪

[theneonsposts]

Sci-Fi Prompt

[zelda7999]

Hiii :3

For the New Horizons promts:

"Don’t you dare pick me up, you hear? Don’t even try I- hEY!!"

💕💕💕

Honestly might try this prompt again because this isn't exactly what I was going for, but you can have it anyways.

[asher-writes]

Further more for the Neon glow crew I'd love to see “what was that?” “a kiss..?” “i know that, knucklehead!” for April and Ember :0

~ M <3

But it was so gentle. It wasn't how April usually kissed. His lips had brushed his own and the heat of his breath was unavoidably present against his skin. All of Ember had felt, for a moment, like he'd been held there with just this small movement. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Still, he saves face, his face hot and April's grin not even slightly amiss on him.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 176

Adjective: Purple

Noun: City

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Purple: of a color intermediate between red and blue

City: a large town; (North American) an incorporated municipal center; (informal) a place or situation characterized by a specified attribute; short for City of London; the financial and commercial institutions located in the City of London

[muffin-selfships]

I just read the palette and miguel story and nooooo she deserved to be happy!! :( Is there an alternate ending where miguel did love palette?

If we look through to an alternate timeline... ______

Spider-Palette rubbed the bruises on her arm. She was limping a little and she really felt like she wanted to just lie down and let the healing start.

Miguel was still barking at her. "What were you thinking?! You couldn't do that alone! That was way too dangerous! You could've gotten killed!"

Palette winced as she looked up at him. Her eyes were like a pleading puppy. "Sorry. I-I'll ask for help next time." She tried to feign a laugh, but it was weak and she was in pain.

Miguel looked at her, wanting to reach out to her. He watched her attempt to limp away. He watched her shaky steps and her deep breaths as she tried to walk off her pain. His eyes then widened as he noticed she was falling to the side. "Palette!?" He quickly ran up to her. "Hey, Palette! You okay?"

Palette only let out a soft "ow" when she hit the ground. It seems like that villain hit her harder than she thought. At least she can rest for a bit.

She then felt herself being lifted up. She slowly turned her head to the side to find Miguel holding her, bridal style. "Just hold on." He said, with a heavy sigh. "I got you, ok?" His voice had a little worry in it.

Palette winced again and she didn't notice that she leaned her head against his chest. "I'm fine, fangs. I just need to lie down for now.."

"I'm still making sure you're getting your bruises tended to." Miguel said, more firmly. His hold on Palette tightened, and he was going to make sure he could never see her in this condition again.

Palette kept her gaze on him, and she did feel herself blushing now. She wanted to say so much to him, but she couldn't think of anything. She wasn't used to this.

"Just...be more careful next time." His voice was soft and his hold on her loosened...and he didn't even know that he instinctively hugged her.

[youssefguedira]

V, JoeNicky & Nile

V. An abandoned or empty place.

When Joe pulls the sheet off the couch it kicks up enough dust that it makes Nile sneeze. The couch underneath is old, wooden frame rotting, fabric stained and full of holes where moths have eaten away at it. 

“Sorry,” Joe says to Nile when she finally manages to get the sneezing under control. “Didn’t realise it was that bad.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at the couch. Nile looks it over.

“There’s no saving that,” she says, wiping at her eyes. She can heal from falling over ten stories, but she can’t get away from allergies.

Joe frowns. “I liked that couch.”

The house is older than anywhere else they’ve brought her, and has been abandoned for long enough that it’s falling apart. But through some trick of posing as their own sons, or something, Joe and Nicky still own it, even if there’s a giant hole in the roof and all the windows are broken. Why they’d decided to come back here, Nile doesn’t know, but it’s a nice enough area, and a good distraction from, well. Everything. Growing back a leg, she’s discovered, is not fun. 

From one of the other rooms – she thinks it’s the kitchen, she’s not actually sure where Nicky had wandered to – there’s the sound of something breaking and crashing to the ground, and a muffled curse. 

Joe makes a questioning noise in the vague direction of the kitchen. A few moments later, Nicky appears in the doorway, covered in dust. “I am okay,” he says. “But I think we will need to go out to eat tonight.”

“Nothing?” 

Nicky shakes his head. “Unless you want to start a fire and go hunt some rabbits.”

Joe grins. “Just like old times, right?”

Nile shakes her head firmly, which makes Nicky smile. She loves them, but there’s no way they’re doing that. 

“We can probably clear out enough space in here,” Joe says, gesturing to the floor. “Get the sleeping bags out of the car. Probably have to start a fire anyway, but…”

Nile looks around again while Joe says something to Nicky in Arabic that makes him laugh. The house is falling apart, sure, but it’s structurally stable, and the bones are all there. It could be something. They’ve got time to make it something. 

Nicky is the one who goes for pizza in the end – he doesn’t trust Nile and Joe to order it if left to their own devices – while they try to clear out a space in the living room. Eventually, though, after Nile has another sneezing fit, Joe suggests they just take the sleeping bags outside instead, which works out a lot better. He sets about starting a fire with practiced ease while Nile sets out the sleeping bags around it. They’re far enough away from civilisation that she can’t hear cars passing by, which is kind of surreal, and the stars are brighter than she’s ever seen them. 

When Nicky gets back, two boxes balanced on one arm and a bottle of wine in the other, he looks over their makeshift camp and laughs. “Just like old times, then?” he asks.

Joe grins. “Except we have pizza.”

“And actual sleeping bags,” Nile says.

“Ah, these modern inventions could never quite match the comfort of a pile of furs,” Joe says wistfully. Nile gives him a look. She’s ninety percent sure that one’s bullshit, but she can never quite tell with him. 

Nicky sets down the pizza boxes, and jogs back to the car to grab the pack of plastic wine glasses they’d bought before they got here. 

“We should’ve bought marshmallows,” Nile says. “Could have made s’mores.”

“Well, we’ll have to go to the hardware store tomorrow anyway,” Joe points out. “And I think it’ll be a little while before we can actually sleep in there.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Nicky agrees.

[rosesonapond]

Here are some the ships I ship or am ok with, and am planning to build an next gen AUs and maybe AUs in general:

Main Next Gen AU: Rose Lotus, Iceberg, Elderburn, Thunderfeet, Tauradonna, Ironwitch, Neon x Sage, Rich Data Farmers, and I’m still deciding on other ships (maybe Arkos if Pyrrha got revived or a seperate AU where she didn’t die but is not the same).

Minor or Secondary next gen AUs: Poly AU where everything is I ship is canon, like canon compliant, divergent, any specific au type really, plus a next gen.