#next prompt: pattern
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horrendousmustard · 25 days ago
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Ghoultober Day 17 - Coffee Day!
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whumpshots · 1 year ago
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Whump ABC #16
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DPXDC prompt. Nocturne.
When the Justice League is faced with the need to summon one of the Ancients, Batman categorically refuses to perform the summoning ritual and takes out his phone with a dissatisfied look.
When a shadow with a pattern of stars, crowned with elegant horns, appears next to the vigilante, Tim realizes everything and gasps with indignation. Nocturn. That's why such a paranoid man like Bruce didn't resist a cooperation agreement with Infinite Realms.
Of all the mentors of the new King of all dead ones, in addition to Frostbite, who has invaluable medical knowledge that can be useful to Jason, the Ancient of dreams and nightmares has been considered one of the most welcome guests in Bruce Wayne's manor for several weeks now. And it's all because he is the only one able to knock out Red Robin and make him sleep for more than three hours in a row. It's just that none of the children were allowed to know about it.
Batman looks away, not wanting to meet Timothy's gaze. Someone would consider using a helping hand from a being who commands the very essence of dreams a dirty and excessive trick, but this someone is not Bruce Wayne who in the analysis of caffeine taken from Drake's vein from time to time hardly found blood.
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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months ago
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Not Her Man
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow
Warning: Girlrotting
Word Count: 3193
Part 1 • Part 3
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You were always scared to do drugs.  
You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 
But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.
Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.
Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.
Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.
He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.
A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.
You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.
Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 
“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.
“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”
You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.
“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 
“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.
You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.
“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”
She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.
“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.
With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 
“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”
You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”
This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”
She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”
“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”
“Sure, see you!” 
You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.
A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.
“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”
She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”
You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”
Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”
Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”
“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”
You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”
The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 
It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.
You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.
“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”
Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.
“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”
You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.
“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.
“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.
“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.
Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.
For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.
“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.
He doesn’t understand it.
You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.
Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.
He didn’t get the chance.
With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.
On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.
You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 
His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.
“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.
“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.
He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”
Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”
He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”
“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.
He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”
You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”
JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”
Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”
He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.
“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”
You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”
“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”
He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.
“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.
“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”
“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”
“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”
But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.
“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”
He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.
You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.
“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.
JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”
He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 
“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”
You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”
“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”
“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 
You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.
“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.
“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”
He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”
This…this isn’t right.  
You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”
He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”
“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”
He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.
You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”
JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”
You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.
“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”
You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.
“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.
“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”
He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.
And your hair stands on end.
There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.
But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.
He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.
“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.
“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.
Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.
You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.
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Not Your Girl • His Girl
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deadghosy · 9 months ago
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Hey!! I have a request! Could you do the hazbin hotel characters and fem! CatNap reader! I know CatNap is a boy but I would like to see what kind of head canons they would have for a female version of CatNap. Also maybe reader would love chasing things around since cats do that?
HAZBIN HOTEL X FEM CATNAP!READER HEADCANNONS
prompt: you are female resident who helps sinners with insomnia
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OKAY FIRST OFF! YOU DEFINITELY STILL SMELL LIKE VANILLA AND LAVENDER!🦆 NO ONE CAN ARGUE ABOUT THIS TO ME 😭
What I headcannon is kinda cartoony as reader has her legs cross as she just nods listening to a sinner’s sleep problem as she is just wearing glasses and a vest. Dead ass she just knocks them out like. “Problem solved!”
Charlie made you a room so residents and sinners could come in and have you help them sleep. Like either you knock them out and walk away. Or you actually stop being a lazy mofo and help them personally.
I headcannon based on the fluffy plush bodies that reader is still flat like the male catnap, cause obviously she doesn’t have a chest just like the plush body of Bobby bearhug. That’s basically how I imagine reader’s body is with her being like a little more skinny but definitely having trouble with people asking what her gender is.
“I’m a fucking cat, that’s what I am.” Is what reader would say irritated as it’s obvious in her feminine/decent voice.
Sassy catnap!reader is a goal as you would literally just do shit for shits and giggles😭✨🔥
Headcannon you have a purple vest with a white dress shirt and a black or white skirt with a few moon patterns on it while the color of your dress shirt as a moon pendent💗🦆
You straight up knocked a person out with your red smoke because they had sexualized you during the session and all you had to say was. “Oh really? Count to three…” “count to wh-” immediate knocked out as they fell face first from the chair as you smile with a full grin.
You used your claws to cut open a piece of candy for nifty as she hugs you and walked away happy. You love helping….
Alastor ran from you as you were chasing after him like a predator because he said he doesn’t need sleep…okay so imagine this….
You are sneaking like a lion behind Alastor as he drinks tea and he is like “I feel watched” with a sweatdropped and next thing people see in the halls is you grinning as you drag a motionless Alastor who still holds his tea up.
You wrapped your tail around Charlie to help her put up a banner as you file your claws as it was time to trim them. Like I imagine that as vaggie is like “What.” With a blank confused face seeing her girlfriend get lifted by a 8ft tall female cat
I can see reader having those teas that help people to sleep just incase they don’t like being passed out “force”. So you just make them tea as you listen to them rant as they fall asleep
Imagine reader reading a book as Lucifer is having a hyper moment behind her as she just peacefully reads….
It gives off “calm friend x hyper friend” vibes
Lucifer had one time patted you, and kept petting you until you purred so he can feel relaxed. He likes your purrs.
The duck king definitely has a picture of you purring on his lap…he even has it as his wallpaper kinda because of how soft and good smelling your fur is
OOOH IMAGINE YOU AND ANGEL HAVING A FASHION SHOW IN HIS ROOM💗🦆
Angel definitely gets you some nice clothes to match your aesthetic or purple clothing with white and cream.
You carry nifty in your mouth as if she was your kit….its cute okay…like niffty straight up smile as you hold her like your own kitten.
“This is ma mom now!” Nifty says happily as you just walk around with the back of her dress in your mouth.
Cherri bomb was good about you by Angel dust as Angel had put an image of how cool and badass you are at not following the rules. She always tries to persuade you into giving her your red smoke to make bombs out of it. SHE ONLY WANTS TO CAUSE DESTRUCTION!!!🦆‼️
Sir Pentious brings his egg boiz to you when they can’t sleep so you can use your red smoke on them. They snuggle in your purple fur as you just play a lullaby for them
I imagine you and husk purring by each other out of no where confused…but it’s because of your peaceful scent installed in your fur and body.
You still have your signature cocky smile before you knock a bitch out with the gas coming from your mouth.
I can see how you have a moon ring as [favorite hazbin hotel character] has a sun ring to show off your friendship with them
Imagine how reader gets groomed by the whole hazbin hotel crew because of their 8ft tall frame…there’s a lot of extra work in grooming your fur.
You definitely have those candles as well with that lavender smell with hint of vanilla. You have so much aromatherapy stuff for people. You might as well be the aroma goddess-
I headcannon you using your demon form (basically that form where the player sees catnap as a skinny monster) to scare people 😭 you’re an asshole as I imagine Angel getting ready for his morning to only see you behind the shower curtain with a creepy smile
Angel screamed and ran out the room looking crazy…..😭 Charlie found out and made you apologize to Angel as he was locked in his room..
He’s definitely not going to the bathroom alone-
Just like my other catnap! Reader, you definitely walk around slowly but stealthy releasing that poppy gas just incase a resident or your friends try sneaking out. “It’s time for bed…” you says quietly as you move smoothly around the hotel hallways
Just like before, Lucifer was scared of you until you showed him you can be quite the loving person you can be. Like Lucifer will lay on your body for comfort if he was getting busy from paper work in his office.
I can imagine Angel trying to get you to use your gas on Valentino and you’re like “sure” as you put a jar to your mouth and release it and give it to Angel.
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ohdeerfully · 9 months ago
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K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)
omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!
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Mourning Dove
Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.
“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.
“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”
“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”
He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.
“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”
You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.
“Okay.” 
She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.
In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.
You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.
“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.
“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”
“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.
You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 
Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 
You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.
Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.
Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.
You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.
Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.
The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.
The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.
“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.
“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”
“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.
“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.
You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…
You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.
You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.
Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.
You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.
“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”
“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”
You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.
“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.
“I know.”
Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.
You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 
You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 
You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.
You watched as his eyes opened again.
“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.
Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.
“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.
“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.
“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.
It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.
Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.
Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.
“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”
“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”
Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.
“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”
Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 
“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.
The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.
Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.
Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.
He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.
“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”
You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.
Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.
You had promised him.
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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago
Text
600+ Personality Traits
as reference for your next poem/story
Positive Traits
Accessible - easy to speak to or deal with
Active - disposed to action; energetic
Adaptable - capable of being or becoming adapted (i.e., suited by nature, character, or design to a particular use, purpose, or situation)
Admirable - deserving the highest esteem
Adventurous - disposed to seek adventure or to cope with the new and unknown
Agreeable - ready or willing to agree or consent
Alert - watchful and prompt to meet danger or emergency
Allocentric - having one's interest and attention centered on other persons
Amiable - friendly, sociable, and congenial
Anticipative - given to anticipation (i.e., the act of looking forward)
Appreciative - having or showing appreciation (i.e., a favorable critical estimate)
Articulate - expressing oneself readily, clearly, and effectively
Aspiring - desiring and working to achieve a particular goal
Athletic - characteristic of an athlete; vigorous, active
Attractive - arousing interest or pleasure; charming
Balanced - being in a state of balance; having different parts or elements properly or effectively arranged, regulated etc.
Benevolent - marked by or disposed to doing good
Brilliant - distinguished by unusual mental keenness or alertness
Calm - free from agitation, excitement, or disturbance
Capable - having or showing general efficiency and ability
Captivating - charmingly or irresistibly appealing
Caring - feeling or showing concern for or kindness to others
Challenging - invitingly provocative; fascinating
Charismatic - having, exhibiting, or based on charisma (i.e., a special magnetic charm or appeal)
Charming - extremely pleasing or delightful; entrancing
Cheerful - full of good spirits; merry
Clean - pure; free from moral corruption or sinister connections of any kind; fair
Clearheaded - having or showing a clear understanding; perceptive
Clever - mentally quick and resourceful
Colorful - full of variety or interest
Companionable - marked by, conducive to, or suggestive of companionship; sociable
Compassionate - having or showing compassion; sympathetic
Conciliatory - intended to gain goodwill or favor or to reduce hostility
Confident - having or showing assurance and self-reliance
Conscientious - meticulous, careful
Considerate - thoughtful of the rights and feelings of others
Constant - marked by firm steadfast resolution or faithfulness
Contemplative - marked by or given to contemplation (i.e., an act of considering with attention)
Cooperative - marked by a willingness and ability to work with others
Courageous - having or characterized by courage; brave
Courteous - marked by respect for and consideration of others
Creative - having the quality of something created rather than imitated; imaginative
Cultured - cultivated (i.e., refined, educated)
Curious - marked by desire to investigate and learn
Daring - venturesomely bold in action or thought
Debonair - suave, urbane; lighthearted, nonchalant
Decent - marked by moral integrity, kindness, and goodwill
Decisive - resolute, determined
Dedicated - devoted to a cause, ideal, or purpose; zealous
Deep - of penetrating intellect; wise
Dignified - showing or expressing dignity (i.e., the quality or state of being worthy, honored, or esteemed)
Directed - having a positive or negative sense
Disciplined - marked by or possessing discipline (i.e., orderly or prescribed conduct or pattern of behavior)
Discreet - prudent; modest; unobtrusive
Dramatic - having or showing a tendency to behave or react in an exaggerated way
Dutiful - filled with or motivated by a sense of duty
Dynamic - energetic, forceful
Earnest - characterized by or proceeding from an intense and serious state of mind
Ebullient - having or showing liveliness and enthusiasm
Educated - having an education; skilled
Efficient - productive of desired effects
Elegant - of a high grade or quality; splendid
Eloquent - marked by forceful and fluent expression
Empathetic - involving, characterized by, or based on empathy (i.e., the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another)
Energetic - operating with or marked by vigor or effect
Enthusiastic - filled with or marked by enthusiasm (i.e., strong excitement of feeling)
Esthetic - artistic; appreciative of, responsive to, or zealous about the beautiful
Exciting - producing excitement (i.e., something that rouses)
Extraordinary - exceptional to a very marked extent
Fair - marked by impartiality and honesty
Faithful - steadfast in affection or allegiance; loyal
Farsighted - having or showing foresight or good judgment; sagacious
Felicific - causing or intended to cause happiness
Firm - not weak or uncertain; vigorous
Flexible - characterized by a ready capability to adapt to new, different, or changing requirements; tractable
Focused - a state or condition permitting clear perception or understanding
Forceful - possessing or filled with force; effective
Forgiving - allowing room for error or weakness
Forthright - free from ambiguity or evasiveness
Freethinking - thinking freely or independently
Friendly - showing kindly interest and goodwill
Fun-loving - lighthearted and lively
Gallant - nobly chivalrous and often self-sacrificing; spirited
Generous - liberal in giving; magnanimous
Gentle - free from harshness, sternness, or violence; docile
Genuine - free from hypocrisy or pretense; sincere
Good-natured - of a pleasant and cooperative disposition
Gracious - marked by kindness and courtesy
Hardworking - constantly, regularly, or habitually engaged in earnest and energetic work; industrious, diligent
Healthy - prosperous, flourishing
Hearty - enthusiastically or exuberantly cordial; jovial
Helpful - of service or assistance; useful
Heroic - exhibiting or marked by courage and daring
High-minded - marked by elevated principles and feelings; also: pretentious
Honest - genuine, real; marked by integrity
Honorable - deserving of respect or high regard; illustrious
Humble - not proud or haughty; unpretentious
Humorous - full of or characterized by humor; funny
Idealistic - of or relating to idealists or idealism (i.e., having a standard of perfection, beauty, or excellence)
Imaginative - given to imagining; having a lively imagination
Impressive - making or tending to make a marked impression; having the power to excite attention, awe, or admiration
Incisive - impressively direct and decisive
Incorruptible - incapable of being bribed or morally corrupted
Independent - not requiring or relying on others
Individualistic - pursuing a markedly independent course in thought or action
Innovative - characterized by, tending to, or introducing innovations (i.e., a new idea, method, or device)
Inoffensive - giving no provocation; peaceable
Insightful - exhibiting or characterized by insight (i.e., the power or act of seeing into a situation)
Insouciant - lighthearted unconcern; nonchalance
Intelligent - guided or directed by intellect; rational
Intuitive - possessing or given to intuition or insight
Invulnerable - immune to or proof against attack
Kind - of a sympathetic or helpful nature
Knowledgeable - having or showing knowledge or intelligence-
Leisurely - characterized by leisure; unhurried
Liberal - marked by generosity; openhanded; broad-minded
Logical - skilled in logic; analytic; capable of reasoning
Lovable - having qualities that attract affection
Loyal - unswerving in allegiance
Lyrical - having an artistically beautiful or expressive quality suggestive of song
Magnanimous - showing or suggesting a lofty and courageous spirit
Many-sided - having many sides or aspects; interests or aptitudes
Mature - based on slow careful consideration
Methodical - habitually proceeding according to method
Meticulous - marked by extreme or excessive care in the consideration or treatment of details
Moderate - avoiding extremes of behavior or expression; calm, temperate
Modest - decent; unpretentious
Multi-leveled - having a scale (as of difficulty or achievement) with multiple positions or ranks
Natural leader - a person who has qualities that a good leader has
Neat - habitually clean and orderly
Nonauthoritarian - not authoritarian (i.e., of, relating to, or favoring a concentration of power in a leader or an elite not constitutionally responsible to the people)
Objective - expressing or dealing with facts or conditions as perceived without distortion by personal feelings, prejudices, or interpretations
Observant - paying strict attention; keen; mindful
Open - characterized by ready accessibility and usually generous attitude; responsive
Optimistic - of, relating to, or characterized by optimism; feeling or showing hope for the future
Orderly - well behaved; peaceful; tidy
Organized - having a formal organization to coordinate and carry out activities
Original - independent and creative in thought or action; inventive
Painstaking - taking pains; expending, showing, or involving diligent care and effort
Passionate - capable of, affected by, or expressing intense feeling; enthusiastic
Patient - bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint; not hasty
Patriotic - befitting or characteristic of a patriot (i.e., one who loves and supports his or her country)
Peaceful - untroubled by conflict, agitation, or commotion; quiet, tranquil
Perceptive - responsive to sensory stimuli; discerning; observant
Perfectionist - having a disposition to regard anything short of perfection as unacceptable
Personable - pleasant or amiable in person; attractive
Persuasive - tending to persuade (i.e., to move by argument, entreaty, or expostulation to a belief, position, or course of action)
Planful - full of plans; resourceful; scheming
Playful - full of play; frolicsome, sportive; humorous
Polished - characterized by a high degree of development, finish, or refinement; free from imperfections
Popular - commonly liked or approved
Practical - actively engaged in some course of action or occupation; useful
Precise - strictly conforming to a pattern, standard, or convention
Principled - exhibiting, based on, or characterized by principle (i.e., a comprehensive and fundamental law, doctrine, or assumption)
Profound - having intellectual depth and insight
Protean - displaying great diversity or variety; versatile
Protective - intended to resist or prevent attack or aggression
Providential - coming or happening by good luck especially unexpectedly; fortunate
Prudent - having or showing good judgment and restraint especially in conduct or speech; cautious
Punctual - being on time; prompt
Purposeful - full of determination
Rational - having reason or understanding; reasonable
Realistic - able to see things as they really are and to deal with them in a practical way
Reflective - marked by reflection; thoughtful, deliberative
Relaxed - easy of manner; informal
Reliable - suitable or fit to be relied on; dependable
Resourceful - able to meet situations; capable of devising ways and means
Respectful - marked by or showing respect or deference
Responsible - able to answer for one's conduct and obligations; trustworthy
Responsive - quick to respond or react appropriately or sympathetically; sensitive
Reverential - expressing or having a quality of reverence (i.e., honor or respect felt or shown; deference)
Romantic - having an inclination for romance; responsive to the appeal of what is idealized, heroic, or adventurous
Rustic - characteristic of or resembling country people
Sage - wise through reflection and experience
Sane - rational; able to anticipate and appraise the effect of one's actions
Scholarly - of, characteristic of, or suitable to learned persons; learned, academic
Scrupulous - having moral integrity; acting in strict regard for what is considered right or proper
Secure - trustworthy, dependable; assured in opinion or expectation; confident
Selfless - having no concern for self; unselfish
Self-critical - inclined to find fault with oneself; critical of oneself
Self-denying - showing self-denial (i.e., a restraint or limitation of one's own desires or interests)
Self-effacing - having or showing a tendency to make oneself modestly or shyly inconspicuous
Self-reliant - having confidence in and exercising one's own powers or judgment
Self-sufficient - capable of providing for one's own needs; haughty, overbearing
Sensitive - highly responsive or susceptible; delicate; touchy
Sentimental - marked or governed by feeling, sensibility, or emotional idealism
Seraphic - suggestive of or resembling a seraphim or angel
Serious - thoughtful or subdued in appearance or manner; sober
Sexy - sexually suggestive or stimulating; appealing
Sharing - to talk about one's thoughts, feelings, or experiences with others
Shrewd - marked by clever discerning awareness and hardheaded acumen
Simple - free from guile; innocent; modest; naive
Skillful - possessed of or displaying skill; expert
Sober - marked by temperance, moderation, or seriousness; calm
Sociable - inclined by nature to companionship with others of the same species; social
Solid - sound; reliable; serious in purpose or character
Sophisticated - finely experienced and aware; intellectually appealing
Spontaneous - controlled and directed internally; natural
Sporting - of, relating to, used, or suitable for sport
Stable - firmly established; enduring
Steadfast - firm in belief, determination, or adherence; loyal
Steady - not easily disturbed or upset; dependable
Stoic - not affected by or showing passion or feeling
Strong - extreme, intense; ardent; firm
Studious - assiduous in the pursuit of learning
Suave - smoothly though often superficially gracious and sophisticated
Subtle - delicate, elusive; obscure
Sweet - marked by gentle good humor or kindliness; agreeable
Sympathetic - given to, marked by, or arising from sympathy, compassion, friendliness, and sensitivity to others' emotions
Systematic - marked by thoroughness and regularity
Tasteful - having, exhibiting, or conforming to good taste
Teacherly - resembling, characteristic of, or befitting a teacher
Thorough - complete in all respects; having full mastery
Tidy - methodical, precise; neat and orderly
Tolerant - permitting or accepting something (such as a behavior or belief) that one does not like
Tractable - capable of being easily led, taught, or controlled; docile
Trusting - having or showing trust in another
Uncomplaining - accepting pains or hardships calmly or without complaint
Understanding - endowed with understanding; tolerant, sympathetic
Undogmatic - not dogmatic; not committed to dogma (i.e., something held as an established opinion)
Unfoolable -impossible to fool (i.e., deceive)
Upright - marked by strong moral rectitude
Urbane - notably polite or polished in manner
Venturesome - inclined to court or incur risk or danger; daring
Vivacious - lively in temper, conduct, or spirit; sprightly
Warm - secure; ardent; marked by or readily showing affection, gratitude, cordiality, or sympathy
Well-bred - having or displaying the politeness and good manners associated especially with people of high social class
Well-read - well-informed or deeply versed through reading
Well-rounded - fully or broadly developed
Winning - successful especially in competition; tending to please or delight
Wise - marked by deep understanding, keen discernment, and a capacity for sound judgment
Witty - marked by or full of clever humor or wit
Youthful - having the vitality or freshness of youth; vigorous
Neutral Traits
Absentminded - tending to forget or fail to notice things
Aggressive - marked by combative readiness
Ambitious - having a desire to be successful, powerful, or famous
Amusing - giving amusement; diverting
Artful - using or characterized by art and skill; dexterous
Ascetic - austere in appearance, manner, or attitude
Authoritarian - of, relating to, or favoring a concentration of power in a leader or an elite not constitutionally responsible to the people
Big-thinking - tendency to think about doing things that involve a lot of people, money, effort, etc.
Breezy - airy, nonchalant
Businesslike - serious, purposeful
Busy - full of activity; bustling
Casual - feeling or showing little concern; nonchalant; informal
Cautious - careful about avoiding danger or risk
Cerebral - primarily intellectual in nature
Chummy - quite friendly
Circumspect - careful to consider all circumstances and possible consequences; prudent
Competitive - inclined, desiring, or suited to compete (i.e., to strive consciously or unconsciously for an objective)
Complex - having many parts or aspects that are usually interrelated; complicated; intricate
Confidential - entrusted with confidences
Conservative - marked by or relating to traditional norms of taste, elegance, style, or manners
Contradictory - involving, causing, or constituting a contradiction (i.e., logical incongruity)
Crisp - concise and to the point; lively
Cute - attractive or pretty especially in a childish, youthful, or delicate way
Deceptive - tending or having power to cause someone to accept as true or valid what is false or invalid
Determined - characterized by determination (i.e., the act of deciding definitely and firmly)
Dominating - dominant; domineering
Dreamy - quiet and soothing; delightful, ideal
Driving - acting with vigor; energetic
Droll - having a humorous, whimsical, or odd quality
Dry - not showing or communicating warmth, enthusiasm, or tender feeling; uninteresting; plain; aloof
Earthy - practical, down-to-earth; unsophisticated
Effeminate - having feminine qualities untypical of a man
Emotional - markedly aroused or agitated in feeling or sensibilities
Enigmatic - of, relating to, or resembling an enigma; mysterious
Experimental - of, relating to, or based on experience or experiment; tentative
Familial - of or relating to a household or family; homey; domestic
Folksy - homespun; having or showing an unpretentious informality
Formal - following or agreeing with established form, custom, or rules
Freewheeling - free and loose in form or manner
Frugal - economical; careful in the management of money or resources
Glamorous - full of glamour; excitingly attractive
Guileless - innocent, naive
High-spirited - characterized by a bold or energetic spirit
Hurried - going or working at speed; hasty
Hypnotic - readily holding the attention
Iconoclastic - tendency to not conform to generally accepted standards or customs
Idiosyncratic - peculiar; eccentric
Impassive - unsusceptible to or destitute of emotion; apathetic
Impersonal - withdrawn; having or showing no emotional warmth or interest in others
Impressionable - inexperienced; easy to influence
Intense - extreme in degree, power, or effect; passionate
Invisible - discreet; not readily seen or noticed
Irreligious - lacking religious emotions, principles, or practices
Irreverent - lacking proper respect or seriousness
Maternal - of, relating to, belonging to, or characteristic of a mother; motherly
Mellow - pleasant, agreeable; laid back
Modern - being or involving the latest methods, concepts, information, or styles
Moralistic - characterized by or expressive of a narrow moral attitude
Mystical - impossible to prove, understand, or explain by either the senses or intelligence
Neutral - not decided or pronounced as to characteristics; indifferent
Noncommittal - having no clear or distinctive character
Noncompetitive - not inclined towards or characterized by competition or rivalry
Obedient - submissive to the restraint or command of authority; willing to obey
Old-fashioned - adhering to customs of a past era; outmoded
Ordinary - being of the type that is encountered in the normal course of events; normal
Outspoken - direct and open in speech or expression; frank
Placid - serenely free of interruption or disturbance
Political - involving or charged or concerned with acts against a government or a political system
Predictable - behaving in a way that is expected
Preoccupied - lost in thought and unaware of one's surroundings or actions; distracted
Private - preferring to keep personal affairs to oneself
Progressive - liberal; not bound by traditional ways or beliefs
Proud - feeling or showing pride
Pure - having exactly the talents or skills needed for a particular role; immaculate; innocent
Questioning - skeptical; inclined to doubt or question claims
Quiet - calm; gentle; easygoing
Religious - scrupulously and conscientiously faithful; zealous
Reserved - restrained in words and actions
Restrained - not excessive or extravagant
Retiring - reserved, shy
Sarcastic - given to the use of sarcasm; caustic
Self-conscious - conscious of one's own acts or states as belonging to or originating in oneself
Sensual - devoted to or preoccupied with the senses or appetites
Skeptical - relating to, characteristic of, or marked by skepticism (i.e., an attitude of doubt or a disposition to incredulity either in general or toward a particular object)
Smooth - amiable, courteous
Soft - lacking firmness or strength of character; feeble
Solemn - marked by grave sedateness and earnest sobriety
Solitary - not gregarious, colonial, social, or compound
Stern - having a definite hardness or severity of nature or manner; austere
Stolid - having or expressing little or no sensibility; unemotional
Strict - stringent in requirement or control
Stubborn - justifiably unyielding; resolute; mulish
Stylish - conforming to current fashion
Subjective - arising out of or identified by means of one's perception of one's own states and processes
Surprising - of a nature that excites surprise (i.e., a taking unawares)
Tough - capable of enduring strain, hardship, or severe labor
Unaggressive - not aggressive; not given to fighting or assertiveness
Unambitious - feeling or showing a lack of ambition (i.e., desire to achieve a particular end)
Unceremonious - not ceremonious; informal
Unchanging - constant, invariable
Undemanding - not requiring much time, effort, or attention
Unfathomable - incomprehensible; impossible to understand
Unhurried - not hurried; leisurely
Uninhibited - free from inhibition; boisterously informal
Unpatriotic - not feeling or showing love for or devotion to one's country
Unpredictable - tending to behave in ways that cannot be predicted
Unreligious - having no connection with or relation to religion; involving no religious import or idea
Unsentimental - not marked or governed by feeling, sensibility, or emotional idealism
Whimsical - characterized by whim or caprice; especially: lightly fanciful
Negative Traits
Abrasive - causing irritation
Abrupt - rudely or unceremoniously curt
Agonizing - causing agony (i.e., intense pain of mind or body)
Aimless - without aim or purpose
Airy - affected, proud
Aloof - removed or distant either physically or emotionally
Amoral - having or showing no concern about whether behavior is morally right or wrong
Angry - feeling or showing anger (i.e., a strong feeling of displeasure and usually of antagonism)
Anxious - characterized by extreme uneasiness of mind or brooding fear about some contingency; worried
Apathetic - having or showing little or no interest, concern, or emotion
Arbitrary - marked by or resulting from the unrestrained and often tyrannical exercise of power
Argumentative - given to argument; disputatious
Arrogant - exaggerating or disposed to exaggerate one's own worth or importance often by an overbearing manner
Artificial - imitation, sham
Asocial - not social; rejecting or lacking the capacity for social interaction
Assertive - disposed to or characterized by bold or confident statements and behavior; aggressive
Astigmatic - showing incapacity for observation or discrimination
Bewildered - deeply or utterly confused or perplexed
Bizarre - strikingly out of the ordinary
Bland - dull, insipid
Blunt - insensitive
Boisterous - noisily turbulent; tumultuous
Brittle - lacking warmth, depth, or generosity of spirit; cold
Brutal - cruel, cold-blooded; harsh
Calculating - marked by prudent analysis or by shrewd consideration of self-interest; scheming
Callous - feeling or showing no sympathy for others; hard-hearted
Cantankerous - difficult or irritating to deal with
Careless - negligent, slovenly
Charmless - unpleasant and without charm or interest
Childish - marked by or suggestive of immaturity and lack of poise
Clumsy - lacking tact or subtlety
Coarse - crude or unrefined in taste, manners, or language
Colorless - dull, uninteresting
Complacent - marked by self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by unawareness of actual dangers or deficiencies
Complaintive - prone to complain
Compulsive - of, relating to, caused by, or suggestive of psychological compulsion
Conceited - having or showing an excessively high opinion of oneself
Condemnatory - expressing strong criticism or disapproval
Conformist - following or seeking to enforce prevailing standards or customs; opposing or avoiding unconventional thinking and behavior
Confused - being perplexed or disconcerted
Contemptible - worthy of contempt (i.e., the act of despising)
Conventional - lacking originality or individuality; trite
Cowardly - being, resembling, or befitting a coward (i.e., one who shows disgraceful fear or timidity)
Crafty - adept in the use of subtlety and cunning
Crass - having or indicating such grossness of mind as precludes delicacy and discrimination
Criminal - guilty of crime; disgraceful
Critical - inclined to criticize severely and unfavorably
Crude - marked by the primitive, gross, or elemental or by uncultivated simplicity or vulgarity
Cruel - disposed to inflict pain or suffering; devoid of humane feelings
Cynical - having or showing the attitude or temper of a cynic (e.g., contemptuously distrustful of human nature and motives)
Decadent - characterized by or appealing to self-indulgence
Deceitful - deceptive, misleading
Delicate - weak, sickly; fragile
Demanding - requiring much time, effort, or attention; exacting
Dependent - relying on another for support
Desperate - having lost hope; suffering extreme need or anxiety
Destructive - designed or tending to hurt or destroy
Devious - not straightforward; deceptive
Difficult - hard to deal with, manage, or overcome
Dirty - morally unclean or corrupt
Disconcerting - causing embarrassment
Discontented - dissatisfied, malcontent
Discouraging - causing someone to feel less confident or less hopeful
Discourteous - lacking courtesy; rude
Dishonest - characterized by lack of truth, honesty, or trustworthiness; unfair, deceptive
Disloyal - showing an absence of allegiance, devotion, obligation, faith, or support
Disobedient - refusing or neglecting to obey
Disorderly - engaged in conduct offensive to public order
Disorganized - lacking coherence, system, or central guiding agency
Disputatious - inclined to dispute; controversial
Disrespectful - showing a lack of manners or consideration for others
Disruptive - disrupting or tending to disrupt some process, activity, condition, etc.
Dissolute - lacking restraint
Dissonant - marked by dissonance; discordant; incongruous
Distractible - when attention of the mind is easily distracted by small and irrelevant stimuli
Disturbing - causing feelings of worry, concern, or anxiety
Dogmatic - characterized by or given to the expression of opinions very strongly or positively as if they were facts
Domineering - inclined to exercise arbitrary and overbearing control over others
Dull - tedious, uninteresting
Egocentric - self-centered, selfish
Enervated - lacking physical, mental, or moral vigor
Envious - feeling or showing envy (i.e., painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage)
Erratic - characterized by lack of consistency, regularity, or uniformity
Escapist - relating to avoiding an unpleasant or boring life by thinking, reading, etc., about something more exciting or fun, especially something that could not really happen
Excitable - capable of being readily roused into action or a state of excitement or irritability
Expedient - governed by self-interest
Extravagant - lacking in moderation, balance, and restraint
Faithless - not to be relied on; untrustworthy; disloyal
False - not genuine; intentionally untrue
Fanatical - marked by excessive enthusiasm and often intense uncritical devotion
Fanciful - marked by fancy or unrestrained imagination rather than by reason and experience
Fatalistic - having or showing a belief that the future is determined and cannot be changed
Fawning - seeking or used to seek approval or favor by means of flattery
Fearful - causing or likely to cause fear, fright, or alarm especially because of dangerous quality
Fickle - marked by lack of steadfastness, constancy, or stability; given to erratic changeableness
Fiery - easily provoked; irritable
Fixed - firmly set in the mind
Flamboyant - excessively showy
Foolish - showing or marked by a lack of good sense or judgment
Forgetful - inclined to forget what one has learned or to do what one should
Fraudulent - characterized by, based on, or done by fraud; deceitful
Frightening - causing fear
Frivolous - marked by unbecoming levity
Gloomy - lacking in promise or hopefulness; pessimistic
Graceless - lacking a sense of propriety; immoral
Grand - lavish, sumptuous
Greedy - marked by greed; having or showing a selfish desire for wealth and possessions
Grim - ghastly, repellent, or sinister in character
Gullible - easily duped or cheated
Hateful - full of hate; malicious
Haughty - blatantly and disdainfully proud
Hedonistic - devoted to the pursuit of pleasure
Hesitant - slow to act or proceed (as from fear, indecision, or unwillingness)
Hidebound - having an inflexible or ultraconservative character
High-handed - having or showing no regard for the rights, concerns, or feelings of others; arbitrary, overbearing
Hostile - marked by malevolence; having or showing unfriendly feelings
Ignorant - unaware, uninformed
Imitative - imitating something superior; counterfeit
Impatient - not patient; restless or short of temper especially under irritation, delay, or opposition
Impractical - not practical; impracticable; idealistic
Imprudent - lacking discretion, wisdom, or good judgment
Impulsive - prone to act on impulse
Inconsiderate - careless of the rights or feelings of others
Incurious - lacking a normal or usual curiosity; uninterested
Indecisive - not decisive; inconclusive; irresolute
Indulgent - willing to allow excessive leniency, generosity, or consideration
Inert - sluggish
Inhibited - not confident enough to say or do what one wants
Insecure - beset by fear and anxiety; not confident or sure
Insensitive - lacking feeling or tact
Insincere - not sincere; hypocritical
Insulting - giving or intended to give offense
Intolerant - unable or unwilling to endure
Irascible - marked by hot temper and easily provoked anger
Irrational - not using or following good reasoning
Irresponsible - having or showing a lack of concern for the consequences of one's actions
Irritable - easily irritated or annoyed
Lazy - disinclined to activity or exertion; not energetic or vigorous
Libidinous - having or marked by lustful desires; lascivious
Loquacious - given to fluent or excessive talk; garrulous
Malicious - having or showing a desire to cause harm to someone; given to, marked by, or arising from malice
Mannered - having an artificial or stilted character
Mannerless - lacking good manners; impolite
Mawkish - exaggeratedly or childishly emotional
Mealymouthed - not plain and straightforward; devious
Mechanical - without thinking about what you are doing, especially because you do something often
Meddlesome - given to meddling (i.e., to interest oneself in what is not one's concern)
Melancholic - tending to depress the spirits; saddening
Meretricious - superficially significant; pretentious
Messy - extremely unpleasant or trying; slovenly
Miserable - causing extreme discomfort or unhappiness; being likely to discredit or shame
Miserly - marked by grasping meanness and penuriousness
Misguided - led or prompted by wrong or inappropriate motives or ideals
Mistaken - wrong in what you believe, or based on a belief that is wrong
Monstrous - having the qualities of a monster (i.e., a threatening force; of unnatural or extreme wickedness or cruelty)
Moody - subject to moods; temperamental
Morbid - abnormally susceptible to or characterized by gloomy or unwholesome feelings
Muddleheaded - mentally confused; bungling
Naive - deficient in worldly wisdom or informed judgment; credulous
Narcissistic - of, relating to, or characterized by narcissism (i.e., egoism, egocentrism); e.g., extremely self-centered with an exaggerated sense of self-importance
Narrow - illiberal in views or disposition; prejudiced
Narrow-minded - not willing to accept opinions, beliefs, behaviors, etc. that are unusual or different from one's own; not open-minded
Negativistic - having an attitude of mind marked by skepticism especially about nearly everything affirmed by others
Neglectful - given to neglecting; careless, heedless
Neurotic - behaving strangely or in an anxious way, often because one has a mental illness
Nihilistic - holding a viewpoint that traditional values and beliefs are unfounded and that existence is senseless and useless
Obnoxious - odiously or disgustingly objectionable; highly offensive
Obsessive - excessive often to an unreasonable degree
Obvious - very noticeable especially for being incorrect or bad
Odd - differing markedly from the usual, ordinary, or accepted
Offhand - done or made offhand (i.e., without premeditation or preparation; extempore)
One-dimensional - lacking depth or complexity; superficial
One-sided - limited to one side; partial
Opinionated - firmly or unduly adhering to one's own opinion or to preconceived notions
Opportunistic - taking advantage of opportunities as they arise (e.g., exploiting opportunities with little regard to principle or consequences)
Oppressed - burdened by abuse of power or authority
Outrageous - violent, unrestrained; going beyond all standards of what is right or decent; deficient in propriety
Overimaginative - excessively imaginative (e.g., devoid of truth)
Paranoid - characterized by suspiciousness, persecutory trends, or megalomania; extremely fearful
Passive - lacking in energy or will; lethargic
Pedantic - narrowly, stodgily, and often ostentatiously learned
Perverse - turned away from what is right or good; corrupt
Petty - marked by or reflective of narrow interests and sympathies; small-minded
Pharisaical - marked by hypocritical censorious self-righteousness
Phlegmatic - having or showing a slow and stolid temperament
Plodding - proceed slowly or tediously
Pompous - having or exhibiting self-importance; arrogant
Possessive - manifesting possession or the desire to own or dominate
Predatory - inclined or intended to injure or exploit others for personal gain or profit
Prejudiced - resulting from or having a prejudice or bias for or especially against
Presumptuous - overstepping due bounds (as of propriety or courtesy)
Pretentious - characterized by pretension (e.g., making usually unjustified or excessive claims)
Prim - stiffly formal and proper; decorous; prudish
Procrastinating - habitually and/or intentionally putting off the doing of something that should be done
Profligate - wildly extravagant; shamelessly immoral
Provocative - serving or tending to provoke, excite, or stimulate
Pugnacious - having a quarrelsome or combative nature; truculent
Puritanical - : of, relating to, or characterized by a rigid morality
Reactionary - relating to, marked by, or favoring reaction; especially: ultraconservative in politics
Reactive - done in immediate response to something especially without thinking or planning
Regimental - of or relating to a regiment; dictatorial
Regretful - full of regret (i.e., sorrow aroused by circumstances beyond one's control or power to repair)
Repentant - experiencing repentance (i.e., the action or process of repenting especially for misdeeds or moral shortcomings)
Repressed - characterized by restraint
Resentful - full of resentment; inclined to resent (i.e., to feel or express annoyance or ill will at)
Ridiculous - arousing or deserving ridicule; extremely silly or unreasonable; absurd, preposterous
Rigid - inflexibly set in opinion
Ritualistic - stressing the use of ritual forms; adhering to or devoted to ritualism
Rowdy - coarse or boisterous in behavior; rough
Ruined - bankrupt, impoverished; devastated
Sadistic - taking pleasure in the infliction of pain, punishment, or humiliation on others
Sanctimonious - hypocritically pious or devout
Scheming - given to forming schemes; devious
Scornful - full of scorn; contemptuous (i.e., manifesting, feeling, or expressing deep hatred or disapproval)
Secretive - disposed to secrecy; not open or outgoing in speech, activity, or purposes
Sedentary - lazy; not doing or involving a lot of physical activity
Selfish - concerned excessively or exclusively with oneself
Self-indulgent - excessive or unrestrained gratification of one's own appetites, desires, or whims
Shallow - lacking in depth of knowledge, thought, or feeling
Shortsighted - lacking foresight
Shy - sensitively diffident or retiring; reserved
Silly - exhibiting or indicative of a lack of common sense or sound judgment; frivolous
Single-minded - having one driving purpose or resolve; determined, dedicated
Sloppy - slovenly, careless; disagreeably effusive (i.e., marked by the expression of great or excessive emotion or enthusiasm)
Slow - lacking in readiness, promptness, or willingness
Sly - lightly mischievous; roguish; furtive; dissembling
Softheaded - having or indicative of a weak, unrealistic, or uncritical mind
Sordid - marked by baseness or grossness; vile; meanly avaricious; covetous
Steely - harsh and threatening in manner or appearance
Stiff - stubborn, unyielding; harsh, severe
Strong-willed - very determined to do something even if other people say it should not be done
Stupid - marked by or resulting from unreasoned thinking or acting; senseless; vexatious, exasperating
Submissive - submitting (i.e., to yield oneself to the authority or will of another; surrender) to others
Superficial - concerned only with the obvious or apparent; shallow
Superstitious - of, relating to, or swayed by superstition (i.e., a notion maintained despite evidence to the contrary)
Suspicious - disposed to suspect; distrustful
Tactless - marked by lack of tact (i.e., a keen sense of what to do or say in order to maintain good relations with others or avoid offense)
Tasteless - having no taste; insipid; dull
Tense - feeling or showing nervous tension
Thievish - given to stealing
Thoughtless - lacking concern for others; inconsiderate; reckless
Timid - lacking in courage or self-confidence
Treacherous - likely to betray trust; unreliable
Trendy - marked by ephemeral, superficial, or faddish appeal or taste
Troublesome - difficult, burdensome; giving trouble or anxiety; vexatious
Unappreciative - not giving recognition or thanks for something
Uncaring - lacking proper sympathy, concern, or interest
Uncharitable - lacking in charity; severe in judging; harsh
Unconvincing - not convincing; implausible
Uncooperative - marked by an unwillingness or inability to work with others
Uncreative - lacking originality of thought; not productive of new ideas
Uncritical - showing lack or improper use of critical standards or procedures
Unctuous - having, revealing, or marked by a smug, ingratiating, and false earnestness or spirituality
Undisciplined - lacking in discipline or self-control
Unfriendly - not friendly (e.g., hostile, unsympathetic; inhospitable, unfavorable)
Ungrateful - showing no gratitude; making a poor return
Unhealthy - of a harmful nature; morally contaminated
Unimaginative - having or showing a lack of imagination or originality
Unimpressive - not attracting or deserving particular attention, admiration, or interest
Unlovable - incapable of inspiring love or admiration; not having attractive or appealing qualities
Unpolished - not polished (i.e., characterized by a high degree of development, finish, or refinement)
Unprincipled - lacking moral principles; unscrupulous
Unrealistic - not realistic; inappropriate to reality or fact
Unreflective - unthinking, heedless
Unreliable - undependable, untrustworthy
Unrestrained - immoderate, uncontrolled
Unstable - wavering in purpose or intent; vacillating; characterized by lack of emotional control
Vacuous - marked by lack of ideas or intelligence; inane
Vague - not thinking or expressing one's thoughts clearly or precisely; vacant
Venal - originating in, characterized by, or associated with corrupt bribery
Venomous - spiteful, malevolent
Vindictive - intended to cause anguish or hurt; spiteful; vengeful
Vulnerable - open to attack or damage; assailable
Weak - not firmly decided; not factually grounded or logically presented; ineffective, impotent
Weak-willed - not having the determination that is needed to continue with a difficult course of action
Willful - obstinately and often perversely self-willed
Wishful - according with wishes rather than reality
Zany - strange, surprising, or uncontrolled in a humorous way
Sources: 1 2 3
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nightingale-prompts · 1 day ago
Text
Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt
Warning: Blood and gore
There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.
Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.
The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.
Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.
The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.
The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.
The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.
Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.
The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.
There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.
It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.
Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.
To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.
As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.
"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."
The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.
Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.
"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.
"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.
Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.
This time the boy spoke differently.
"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.
The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.
Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.
Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-
"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.
He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.
He flinch as he pushed the thing away.
"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.
He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.
"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."
The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.
"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.
This was hell. This was his hell.
But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.
Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.
****
"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"
After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.
"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.
"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.
"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.
"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.
"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.
"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.
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bunnys-kisses · 16 days ago
Note
I'm so excited for those new prompts!! Can i get a nacho dip and one hot cocoa with oscar piastri?
bakery menu - halloween menu
the halloween menu is available until nov. 2nd! so get those orders in! thank you to those who have submitted so far. doing something a little festive has been a lot of fun! so thank you!
nacho dip: "seeing you with those kids makes me want one." + hot cocoa: gentle/soft sex served by oscar piastri (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, established relationship, gentle sex, (slight) breeding kink, loving!oscar
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you loved your boyfriend, oscar. there was something about him that just made you feel on cloud nine. even with your massively busy schedules, you still felt loved. like when he sent you flowers to your shared apartment and a promise of dinner when he returned. or how he'd get you a fridge magnet from every city on the race calendar.
oscar was a caring significant other. but something stirred in your core when you saw him with the kids in mexico city right before halloween. he was all smiles and hi-fives with the kids, speaking to them in what spanish he knew. but regardless he was still a joy to be around.
to see oscar with these kids, most of them dressed up for the event, it made you think about the future. a future with oscar. you knew about the lacy number in your suitcase and while that was for a pleasurable evening. the objective of your evening had changed.
the lingerie was appropriate for the season. it wasn't anything too fancy, or expensive. but you liked how it all fit your curves. they were boy shorts with bats and pumpkins printed on them paired with a bra that akin to a sports bra. and you paired it with a black silky robe.
you were seated on the bed as you waited for oscar to get out of the shower. you traced lazy patterns across the bed spread as you waited. you shifted in your spot a little and felt heat in your cheeks. the feeling was overwhelming. the anticipation for what was to come excited you greatly.
it was always fun to make love to oscar. he was the kind of lover that made your head spin. you had been with a few partners in your life, but none gave you the earth shattering orgasms that oscar gave you. for such a ray of sunshine, he could easily rock your world.
he soon entered the bedroom with a towel around his waist. he caught the sight of you and his eyes went wide. there was his beloved girlfriend, his angel incarnate. dressed in orange and black. he broke into a smile, "what is this? is this for me?"
you giggled and let the shoulders of the robe slip off of you. you exposed more of your body to him, "no, no. it's just for me, all for me."
oscar chuckled as he got closer. the towel was loose around his waist. he could feel his cock twitch under it. you were beautiful, even if the lingerie was a little cheesy. he liked cheesy, sex and intimacy didn't have to be so serious. it was meant to be fun.
"so what is this about?" he asked.
you replied, "originally, i wanted us to have a fun little night since we'll be busy for halloween. but, instead seeing you with those kids makes me want one."
oscar's eyebrows raised for a moment as he asked, "a baby? well. i guess i couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else." he laughed, "but i want to go gentle. no need to hurt ourselves trying to make a baby."
he dropped the towel and went over to you. he admired your beauty for a moment. his hungry gaze lingered on your form as he looked down at you.
you blushed a little big and looked away for a moment before oscar took you by the face to make you look at him. he leaned in to kiss you on the lips before he got into bed with you. he laid you out under him, chest to chest as he deeply kisses you.
soon your lingerie was on the floor, not ripped or torn. oscar wanted you wear it for next halloween. the thought made him smile against you. the taste of your lips felt like heaven and it made his heart sing. you were beyond amazing. beyond beautiful. he loved you so very much. you were perfect for him in every way.
his hands roamed your sides as he kissed you. it made you giggle and squirm. his heart hammered in his chest as his touches on you. he loved feeling you up. when he pulled away, he got properly between your legs and with a little help, he slipped his cock into you.
your back arched a little bit and you tensed up for a moment when you felt his cock inside of you. you made a soft noise that was music to your lover's ears.
"such a beautiful woman." he said with love in his tone. he loved the sight of you under him. you were beautiful. his words rung through as he moved against you. he was awfully rough, he never wanted to be. he loved you too much to treat you poorly.
sex between the two of you was meant to be fun and oscar had the most when there was consent, a lot of consent. he wanted to know that he made you feel good. that was his objective.
"i love you." you said to him softly as you shifted a little bit under him. he pressed into you perfectly. chest to chest as he rubbed himself up against you.
"i love you too." he moaned as he continued to move against you. his thrusts were slow with enough force that it made your toes curl. he adored you. you felt amazing under him, the pleasure coursed through his body the further he made love to you,
he thought about all your times together, every time he was able to make you easily orgasm. how he could make you feel on cloud nine. how he could pleasure you in such ways that it was a joy to make your toes curl with hot warmth coursing through your body.
you swallowed back the heat and squirmed a little under him. and soon oscar was holding onto your hands as he moved against you. he thrusted against you. you two felt amazing. there was a dreamy look in oscar's eyes as he moved against you.
"so pretty." he groaned.
you clutched his hands and leaned in to his face to press a hot kiss against his lips. he moaned a little bit and almost melted against you. he groaned against your kisses and tried to meet his pace. when you broke the kiss you panted, "please, ah, oscar. baby. i love you."
"i love you too. tell me you want it." he groaned.
you held onto him tightly, your fingers interlaced with his, "please, oscar. i want you. i want you always. i want to have a family with you." the bed shifted a little under your movements and your words only turned your boyfriend on greatly.
there was something about you that was infectious. you drove him wild, especially when he was making you feel good. he continued to move against you, he knew that he was getting closer to climax.
"fuck, i love you."
"i love you too." you giggled. you held onto his hands tighter, "you're amazing, the best boyfriend ever. and you'll be an amazing father too." you groaned and arched your back. but you were firmly pressed to him. the kisses grew hungrier the more you two moved.
it didn't take long for the pleasure to course through you. and it didn't take long for it to all come to a head. you kissed your lover once more, the future father of your children. he'd make a perfect father.
you came around his cock, and oscar finished inside of you while the two of you kissed deeply. you whined against his lips and he held onto you tightly.
"fuck." you groaned.
he replied with a quiet, "i love you." he laid out beside you. he pulled you into a tight hug and kissed your face lovingly. he loved you so much and he had new confidence for the race weekend. you two stayed tangled up in one another.
you said, "if you do well tomorrow, we can try for twins." you took him by the jaw and kissed his cheeks. he shuddered against you lovingly. you said that like a promise.
by the end of the season, oscar was curled up in bed with you back home and already speaking to your barely there bump. you weren't even three months pregnant. your child was still a blob, but oscar loved them all the same. just as he loved you <3
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ceilidho · 1 year ago
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prompt: it's been a month since you managed to run away from them. your luck had to run out eventually. tags: noncon, darkfic, ghoap x reader, previous kidnapping implied, stalking and hunting down reader. i am begging you to read the tags before reading this, thanks. 4.4k
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You pay for the motel room in cash. Always cash. Never a paper trail if you can help it. Nothing that could ever tip anyone off if you didn’t want them to be tipped off.
You haven’t been on the run for long. Maybe a month, tops—but after the first week, the days and nights have begun to blend together like watercolours. You don’t do much during the day apart from sit in your room and wait for the night to come. Sometimes you venture out if you’re low on food or if the itch under your skin grows severe enough that you know you need to buy a fresh set of clothes and dump the ones you came into town with. 
Freshly dyed and cut hair. Jackets two sizes too big to make you seem larger than you are from the back. You’ll never be able to change the face god gave you, but you make an effort to obscure it when you can—surgical masks on public transit, heavy sunglasses even indoors, a deep mauve lipstick (purchased, again, in cash at the local pharmacy) to make you seem, from a distance, like someone else. Anyone else.
Sometimes remembering that it’s been a whole month since you escaped, since you got out, leaves you winded. You have to hold onto the wall in your pay-by-the-night, ratty, hole-in-the-wall motel room to keep from toppling over. A month without spotting one of them in pursuit of you feels next to impossible. Almost impossible. You still don’t let yourself think that you’ve fully given them the slip, that you’ve gotten the better of them. There is no getting the better of them. There is no outmanoeuvring the two men that—you’ve learned through painful trial and error—do not let up when there is still the trace of a scent.
And everything leaves a scent. Even you.
You sleep in the bathtub instead of the bed for fear of bedlice; these days, your neck has an ever-present kink that needs to be worked out. It’s bound to get worse though. It’s not like you can stop in this town now and call it home, not when you can feel them hot on your heels. 
You change in gas station bathrooms when you run. You’re learning a kind of awareness of cameras and eyes that you never would’ve developed before. You do not smile at cashiers. Your face becomes blank, unrecognisable. The goal is always that you fade into obscurity the second you step out of the shop, so that no one could ever identify you to the two terrifying men haunting your shadow. Even if they wanted to. 
Paranoid isn’t the half of it. When you hear a car pull up outside your motel room door, your body drops a whole degree and sweats like a night terror has found you in the waking world. You only relax when you hear a door four rooms down slam shut. Then you shake so hard that you swear you can hear your bones rattle.
This isn’t a life. It’s life like the promise of a tomorrow is the only thing getting you through today. 
You get on buses with no idea where you’ll be getting off. Pattern disrupter. In the months that you lived with them, you learned something. If your movements are scattered, they become unpredictable—harder to track down. You force them to stay behind while you skitter off, forcing them to review video footage, question people, even sift through garbage and recycling bins for any sign that you’d been there. 
It doesn’t make you any less nervous. You know they’re like hunting dogs. You’d love to believe that you’ve tried their patience enough for them to abandon the chase, but thinking like that gets you caught. Complacency will get you caught faster than anything.
The money folded and sealed in an envelope in your bag is dwindling though. Even for as frugal as you’ve been, food costs money—clothes cost money. Boxes of hair dye and bus tickets cost money. And you can’t stay anywhere long enough to hold down a job to recuperate what you’ve lost.
It feels hopeless. You trudge back to your motel room after grabbing a bite to eat at the pub down the road and feel like maybe this is purgatory. Maybe you died a long time ago, long before you got away from them, and this long path you’ve been burning across the country is just the long descent into the underworld. You let out a sigh, squeezing your eyes shut for a second by the door before unlocking it to go inside for the night.
You trip over something. It catches you so off guard that you almost break your nose on the carpeted floor, arms almost not swinging out in time to catch you. 
“Whoops. Sorry, kitty—took a lil’ tumble there, huh?” a familiar burr says from somewhere behind you by the door. “Gotta watch where you step.” He chuckles a bit under his breath, pulling back the leg he’d stuck out to trip you. 
Your body goes ice cold on the floor. The door clicks shut behind you; the deadbolt sliding into place is deafening in the silence. The thick knot in your belly expands until you think you might throw up. The only nonsensical thing you can think is that you hope the motel manager won’t be upset that you’ve ruined the carpet. 
You hear the muffled sound of knees hitting the floor and then a hand tangles in your hair, wrenching your head back. “Oh Jesus, look at the state of her, Lt.”
“Looks like she’s seen a ghost.”
The second voice is rough, like logs rolling over water, clattering into each other. It comes from the other end of the room, way into the darkness. They didn’t bother to turn the lights on, perhaps in an effort to make sure your guard was down. Fear grips the inside of your chest. Behind you, Johnny holds your head up high enough that you’re forced to stare at the patch of darkness from which Ghost materialises when he flicks on the bedside lamp. 
On the surface, he sounds almost amused, but as long as it’s been, you’re still attuned to the undercurrent of anger in his voice. His patience has been tried over weeks of chasing after you. He almost looks like he’s put on mass since you last saw him over a month ago, but that could just be the perspective of looking up at him from the floor. His face is still covered in the same half skull mask as always, exposing the shaved blond hair on his head. His eyes are narrowed though, terrifyingly mad.
“Poor baby,” Johnny murmurs, nuzzling into the back of your head. He props himself over you, not leaning his whole weight down onto your prone body, but trying to get as close as possible to you while still forcing you to stare up at Ghost. “Did we give ye a wee fright? Is that why ye ran off? I missed ye so, so bad, baby.”
“She ran off because she’s been spoiled,” Ghost snaps. He sits on the edge of the bed and it creaks under his weight when he shifts a little closer to the edge, leaning closer to where you’re lying on the floor. 
“I ken, I ken, Lt,” Johnny sighs, plastering sloppy, wet kisses into the side of your neck, fitting his mouth briefly into the crook of it, into the meat of your shoulder. “Cannae help myself, she’s just so—ah, kitty, am really sorry but you’ve really pissed Simon off.”
“No—no, please—” you gasp, breath splintered into short hitches. “H-how’d you—how’d you e-even find—”
Johnny shakes you by the hair, a bit rougher than usual. Anger finally leaking out like a drip from a loose spigot. You yip at the pain. “Of course we were gonna find you—Lt, ye hearing this? She thought she could outsmart us.”
“Pet’s don’t know any better,” Ghost says dismissively. It makes you feel queasy to hear him say that like you’re not even in the room. “Needs a lesson in not making us run halfway across the country after her. Get her on the bed, pup.”
“No, no, get OFF—” you try to yell, then gag when Johnny shoves two fingers into your mouth, pushing them almost to the back of your throat. 
When the urge to choke abates, you close your teeth over his fingers, flirting with the idea of just biting all the way down and taking them off. Only the fact that you’ve never done something like that before keeps you from instinctually biting through. Johnny laughs breathlessly when he feels your teeth flirt over his fingers though.
“Bite down,” Johnny dares you, voice quivering with smugness and rage. “Bite down ‘n see what happens to ye. Have nae gotten my cock wet in a fuckin’ month because you’ve been gone and Simon—”
“Quit talking to the pet like she understands,” Ghost snaps, finally standing up, towering over the two of you. You can’t help staring at his mud covered boots still rooted in front of your face. “On the bed. Now.”
You howl when Johnny takes his fingers out of your mouth and wrenches you to your feet, struggling when he coos and frogmarches you to the bed. No matter how hard you struggle though, you can’t break the way he has your arms twisted behind your back. It’s a short walk too, only a few steps, and then Johnny shoves you roughly onto the bed, clambering over you again. His hand forces your face into the mattress, not paying any mind to the way you grunt because your nose bends uncomfortably against it. 
“Always fuckin’ whining,” Johnny growls into your ear, fully pissed off now. His anger is electric, rippling down the length of you. “On and on and on—’n I’ve been so fuckin’ good to ye. Have nae even been a little mean. Being a fuckin’ brat to me and leavin’ me and makin’ us hunt ye down like dogs.” 
You can hear that he’s working himself up to a fever pitch, growing angrier and angrier. It terrifies you to think that you’re trapped under him, nowhere to go. Somehow, it’s a mercy when the bed dips again under Ghost’s weight and he pulls Johnny back by the shoulder, giving his cheek a little tap when Johnny growls and tries to bend back down. 
“You have all the time in the world with her, pup,” Ghost says, giving Johnny a rougher shove. “Get undressed. Can’t fuck her in your civvies.” 
“Yeah…yeah, yer right,” Johnny mumbles to himself, getting off you. 
Your head automatically twists over your shoulder, eyes following him. It’s easy to see in the spare seconds you get before you try to make a break for it again that he looks haggard, beard grown out a bit more than usual. Ghost usually makes him keep it short and tight, but apparently weeks on the road have tempered that military expectation a bit. 
His eyes are wild, electric blue, hardly blinking for how hard he stares at you. You tell yourself that you haven’t, on some small level, missed his pretty face. His arms bulge around the tight shirt that he easily strips off, pulling it off one handed from the back of his neck.
You hear him kick off his boots somewhere in the distance, but when you try to scramble off the bed, Ghost tips you over onto your bed and presses you down with a firm hand on your shoulder. He’s a bit less dressed now—hoodie pulled off and boots and jeans piled on the floor somewhere. Mask off. Familiar scars cut across his face—old burn marks and white spidery lines of fresh skin. Rougher than Johnny, not a pretty man; maybe without the layers of scarring he’d be a proper masculine kind of handsome, but with them, he only seems dangerous. Someone to avoid. 
He doesn’t say anything when he stares down at you. He says enough like that. He looks over his shoulder, away from you. “Johnny?”
“Lt?” Johnny’s at attention now, stripped naked and eager. When you glance down, his cock is already flushed and hard, excitement making him almost vibrate.
“Help me get her naked and then you’ll get her mouth, alright?”
You’re already struggling before the words come out of his mouth, frantically trying to push Ghost off you and opening your mouth to scream—the piercing shrill of it bleats out of you for half a second—before a big hand wraps around your neck and Ghost turns back to you. It shuts you up in a heartbeat. Not once in the months you were with them has Ghost looked half as terrifying; you’ve had a belt taken to your ass until the blood pooling under the skin almost burned, you’ve been manhandled and roughly positioned and been bent into shapes that your body could only just accommodate, but you’ve never, until now, actually worried for your safety somehow. 
“You scream—” he starts, moving his hand up just a little to grab you by the jaw and twist your head to make you stare at the bedside table, where a glock lays flat under the glow of the lamp, “—and I shoot anyone that comes through that fuckin’ door. We clear?”
You nod once. Sweat pouring out of every other gland, but the saliva running dry in your mouth. You lick your lips and swallow, hummingbird heart going wild in your chest. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Johnny mumbles, coming up behind Ghost to wrap his arms around him as best he can, planting a row of kisses into his shaved head. “Missed it so bad, I need ta—need ta—”
“Her clothes, Johnny. Take ‘em off.”
You only put up a little fight when Ghost works on unzipping and pulling down your jeans. It feels hopeless to try. Johnny almost tears your shirt in two to get it off, only being a bit gentler when you yelp. He can’t help groping at your chest when the shirt is pulled off you and tossed somewhere else in the room, big hands fitting over your breasts and plucking your nipples, twisting them like you’re just a toy for Johnny to play with. He slithers down onto his belly for a second to pop a nipple into his mouth, switching between kissing and sucking at the beaded nub like he can’t tell what he missed more.
Your panties get ripped clean in two. The sob comes out of your chest unbidden, tears finally spilling out. Ghost’s patience seems finally at its end. His eyes are black even in the light, all pupil. Your legs try to close instinctively, but he slots himself between them so you can only clamp your legs around his waist, stuck staring at the way his hand reaches for his boxers only long enough to pull the elastic under his balls. His cock is so heavy with blood that it droops, the tip dewy. 
Your nipples gleam with spit when Johnny finally takes his mouth off them, sitting back on his haunches and spreading his legs. It’s all happening so fast—there isn’t a right place to look. Either the monstrous cock between your legs that already has you feeling twangs of phantom pain knowing that Ghost isn’t going to even bother stretching you on his fingers before fucking you, or the pretty cock that Johnny is already rubbing against your lips, painting with his precome. You flinch when you feel Ghost spit on your sex; he doesn’t try to rub it in.
“Simon” he pants, fingers tangling in your hair again to keep your head still when you try to turn away. “Simon, please, can I—I need ta come so bad. Please, please.”
You almost say something and then Ghost pushes his cock in to the hilt in one brutal plunge. Your mouth opens on a ragged gasp and Johnny keens, fingers clenching so hard in your hair that he almost tears it out by the roots. The tip of his cock stays flush against your lips, even split open on your gasp.
“Please, sir, please,” he begs, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. Aching and desperate. Holding himself back only because he needs permission to put his cock anywhere in you, just like he did all those weeks ago back in their house out in the countryside. The one you thought you thought you’d escaped. 
Ghost chuckles, groaning at the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his cock. “Go ahead, boy. Give your cock a squeeze.”
That’s all it takes. Johnny pushes past your lips roughly, no finesse or gentleness at all. Maybe the capacity for it is gone after going without you for so long. You choke when the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, tears making your vision blur. Johnny preens and gushes over you, unable to stop babbling about how hot and tight your throat is, how much he missed it. 
“Oh shit, sir, she’s—” Johnny gasps, sinking into your mouth again and again, sweaty hand still clutching your hair. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”
You feel close to the point of breaking, tight after a month on the lam, too tight for someone Ghost’s size to shove their cock into you without prep. You tell yourself that at least he bothered to spit on you, but lube would help a lot more. Too bad for you. His hands fit over your waist and hold tight, making sure you know that there’s nowhere for you to go. The first few thrusts are rough but slow enough to keep you from tearing—a small mercy, but probably not for your sake.
“I get—I get her pussy after, right, sir?” Johnny asks desperately.
“Dunno, Johnny,” Ghost muses, licking his lip. His thrusts get more brutish, faster; your teeth would be clacking together if Johnny’s cock wasn’t stuck halfway down your throat. “Gonna be a bit sloppy. Might not be tight enough for you after this.”
“S’okay, sir,” he whines, glancing back down at you. Fingers petting your cheek and tracing over your throat, trying to feel himself from the outside. “Jus’ need…oh fuck, please, it’s so good—oh Christ, missed it. I’ll take anythin’, sir, please.”
“Christ, alright, puppy. You can have a turn after. Been a good boy, huh?” 
You can only stare when Ghost lifts a hand from your waist to reel Johnny in by his mohawk, tugging him in for a wet kiss, still thrusting into your pussy all the while. Just a toy between them for their cocks while Ghost licks into Johnny’s mouth and mutters sweet nothings to him. Johnny moans into the kiss, sucking Ghost’s tongue when it’s offered to him and looking dazed, come-drunk. All fucked out and flushed, hips unconsciously pumping forward, just absently rutting. 
“Got our girl back, right?” Ghost murmurs, letting go of Johnny’s hair to smooth down his head and neck, making him preen. “Such a smart puppy.”
“Yeah, I’m good, sir.” He sounds out of his mind, slurring his words. Praise gets him like nothing else; it’s not easily given by Ghost, not handed out for nothing. “Did good…’m a good boy…”
The corners of your lips feel like they might crack. It’s hard to be careful with your teeth when you’re so overwhelmed, but luckily Johnny doesn’t mind it a bit rough. He hiccups when your teeth scrape over his cock a bit. He lips at Ghost’s mouth, dragging his tongue over the scar that bisects the corner of Ghost’s lips. When Ghost finally pulls away from Johnny’s mouth, a thin string of saliva pulls and then bends with the distance, finally snapping off and leaking onto your chest. 
Your flinch and squeak draws Ghost’s attention back down to you. 
You try to think of yourself looking down on the three of you instead of in it, but it’s hard. For as much as it seems like you’re just a toy between them, Ghost makes an effort to get you off, slipping a hand down to jiggle his thumb over your clit, rubbing it just the way you like. It’s sick how well he knows your body by now, how it takes almost nothing to push you to the edge of coming, core tight with the heat of it. 
“Gonna come?” Ghost taunts, scooping a hand under your ass to tilt your hips up, hitting a spot inside you that has you seeing stars, cunt flexing over his cock. You garble around Johnny’s cock as if to say something, but all it does is make Johnny groan and slump over you, holding himself upright with a hand on the mattress. His abs flex every time he fucks into your mouth. “Pussy this close to coming—you must’ve starved it. Good thing you didn’t let someone fuck you while we were looking. Woulda torn them apart.”
You can see the real threat in his eyes at that. There’s no way you would’ve, but the real danger of it crackles in the room. You feel like you’ll slip and touch the third rail if you so much as twitch under his glare. His jealousy at the thought makes him look like an angry god, chest heaving with every breath as he fucks you. 
“My baby wouldnae—” Johnny gasps, sinking his cock all the way into your throat and groaning at the squeeze, “—no, Si, she’s—ah, fuck me, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck—Si, she wouldnae do that to us. No fuckin’ way.”
“She’d have a lot of making up to do then, huh?”
“She’s a good girl, sir, ‘promise. Oh, jus’ look at her,” Johnny gushes, sweat dripping down onto your face from how he’s curled over you. “So, so pretty. Maybe I dinnae take her…take her on enough walks.”
“Yeah…” You feel your skin crawl when Ghost stares down at you, not convinced. “Of course, pup.”
You know there’s no way he believes that. When they drag you home, you don’t think you’ll see the sunlight for weeks, never mind have Johnny take you on ‘walks’. Ghost’s smothering presence will take on a whole new meaning; he’ll snuff out the sun before he lets you walk in it alone ever again. 
Someone in the room adjacent to yours slams their fist into the wall a couple of times, jolting you out of your thoughts. The headboard must really be knocking against the wall. Ghost and Johnny ignore it though, Johnny so close to coming that he can hardly even form a sentence, solely focused on spearing between your lips. You can feel Ghost reaching his end too, fucking you with a single-minded intensity. Breath snorting out of his nose like a bull. The hair on his chest is matted with sweat, curls whorling around his nipples. 
You almost choke when Johnny comes down your throat without warning, hilting his cock until his balls brush your chin and his hand in your hair tightens painfully. He groans, drawn out and long, pained. It splashes against the back of your throat, almost familiar. You’ve done this before. You can do this without falling down a cliff and never climbing back up. 
He pulls his cock out before he’s finished, striping your face with come, twitching when he has to hold his cock from how sensitive it is. You instinctively close your eyes, grateful when you feel his come tag your eyelid. 
You hope it’s almost over, but Ghost hasn’t come yet and you know it’s going to get worse before it gets better. When Johnny pulls away to collapse onto his back on the bed, trying to catch his breath and dragging his hand over his stomach, Ghost hunches over you. He drags his tongue over your cheek, wet and nasty, and your brain almost switches off when you realise that he’s licking Johnny’s come off your cheek. 
“There we go,” he snarls, feeling you flex around him, the little tell-tale spasm of your approaching orgasm. “Atta girl—gonna come on my cock? A little wet sorry for running away?”
You try to say something, but your throat is raw, voice too hoarse for words. Even your lips feel puffy, swollen. Talking hurts. It doesn’t matter though, Ghost doesn’t wait for your response. He pumps into you like a machine, pulling his cock all the way out before pushing back in again. Your stomach cramps with the worry that he might miss and try pushing into the other hole.
You wish there was a way around it, but you can’t avoid it slamming into you, a white hot wave cresting over you. You come so hard it hurts, milking Ghost’s cock and pushing him over the edge too; he pants harsh, animalistic sounds into your throat, cutting himself off by sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder instead, making you howl. There’s no condom to keep his come from pumping into you; just a big, heavy man smelling of gunpowder and salt hovering over you, elbow propped on the mattress beside your head and making you go a bit crazy at the scent of him everywhere around you. 
He peels himself off of you after what feels like an hour, soft cock pulling out of you and making you clench down on nothing. You didn’t remember how much being empty can hurt. You try to roll away from him and onto your side, maybe squeeze yourself into a fetal position, but Ghost collapses down beside you and plants a hand on the centre of your chest, holding you in place. Never any respite. 
You croak a tired little, “Ow.” All it does is make Ghost snort softly.
Your body feels like one livid bruise in the aftermath, limbs loose at your sides. You couldn’t move even if you tried, even if you thought you could make a break for it. It would hardly be worth it. You let your eyes slide shut when Ghost runs a hand up and down your chest, a little comforting gesture. 
“Simon,” Johnny whines from beside you. Your brows scrunch, annoyed at his voice breaking the silence. “Please.”
You hear Ghost sigh. “Now?”
“Cannae wait—please.”
You wait to hear Johnny and Ghost get up. Maybe there’s something they have to do—maybe they drove to the motel and there’s still something in the car. 
A hand grabs you by the hip.
“Turn over, pet,” Ghost instructs, flipping you onto your stomach without waiting for you to acquiesce. “Promised Johnny a turn with your pussy before we leave.”
Your eyes go wide.
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rainydayathogwarts · 28 days ago
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A lounge chair and half a bikini - Eddie Munson ft. Steve Harrington
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eddie and gf!reader get frisky in steve's backyard and he watches from the room above with the promise of bringing down towels so they can swim. warning: SMUT, semi-public sex, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism 0.8k+ wc
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Steve tosses his shirt somewhere in his room, searching for the towels he promised to bring down when he catches a glimpse of you through the window. You're in your bikini, laying down on your stomach on one of the lounge chairs, getting the tan Steve promised you as a negotiation for you to join him and Eddie over for a pool date. He wouldn't admit it, especially not to his best friend, but he wanted to see you in a bikini as much as the next guy. Steve sighed when he saw Eddie emerge from the pool, tying his wet hair into a low bun as he made his way over to you, lean muscles shimmering in the sun.
Steve stared as Eddie sat next to you, giving into the urge to smack a hand on your bare ass, watching as it jiggled in response. He saw your head abruptly turn towards your boyfriend, and could almost hear you screech "You're all wet!" He knew you'd never complain about Eddie touching you, no matter how soft or rough his movements were. Eddie leaned down, pressing a few kisses on your shoulder before pulling away. You spun around in the lounge chair to lay on your back, a hand reaching out for Eddie's face. Your boyfriend leaned into your touch, letting you guide him into a kiss. You smile when he breaks the kiss, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear to see him better.
You shuffle on the lounge chair, making more space for Eddie as you pat the warm fabric of the chair, prompting Eddie to lay down next to you. He does. Steve presses himself closer to his window, jealously staring as Eddie begins drawing random patterns on your thigh, leaving a trail of water on you. You turn away from Steve's direction, throwing a leg over one of Eddie's, and cupping his jaw with you hand. Caressing Eddie's cheek, you bring him into another kiss, mumbling something about love against his lips. Eddie doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, shifting his weight up to push you back on the chair whilst his hand begins wandering again. Once it lands on your thigh, Eddie moves his kisses to your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your bikini bottom to test your comfort.
The giggle that escapes you when he does so has a grin forming on his face. Both your arms wrap around the back of Eddie's neck, tugging him closer to you, and he takes it as permission to continue. Eddie's fingers dip past the band of your bikini, his kisses intensifying to distract you from his fingers' chase for your clit. The electrical impulse that shoots through your body when he finds your clit has you jerking upwards, gasping loudly in shock. "Eds" You whine, heat rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you with a boyish smile. One of your hands travels down to his face, pinching his cheeks so you can peck his lips, blinking rapidly when you open your eyes and mini droplets of water falls into them.
Steve gasps, tugging at his swim shorts, eyes glued to the movement of Eddie's hands beneath your bikini. Eddie slides two fingers down to your entrance, slowly sinking them into you, and you bite your lip, throwing your head against the chair and lightly arching your back. "Shit." Steve mumbles, pushing his shorts down and gripping his dick, quickly jerking himself to match the pace of Eddie's fingers pumping inside you. Your hand tightly grasps Eddie's wrist and your jaw falls open, gasping in short breaths. Eddie's kisses move to your forehead, and he whispers "Yeah sweetheart, that feel good?" While twisting his wrist to hit a new angle inside you. The high-pitched moan you let out has Eddie's eyes shooting wide open in worry that anyone might have heard, and he rests his body weight on the lounge chair to clasp a hand over your mouth, exposing more of your body to Steve, who shamelessly watches through his bedroom window above.
"You gonna cum baby?" He urges, thumb pressing on your clit while he thrusts his fingers harder into you with every flick of his wrist. Eddie feels the vibrations of your 'Uh-huh' against his hand, and he quickly ducks his head down to your neck, where he eagerly latches on, biting harshly at the sensitive skin. Your hand flies to Eddie's bicep, thighs squeezing shut as you cum, gushing liquid against Eddie's veiny hand. Your moans are still heard despite Eddie's hand against your mouth trying to get them to subside, and you push your chest out, nipples constraining against the thin fabric of your tight bikini.
Steve breathes heavily in the bedroom above, grunting in pleasure as his cum shoots across his abs, the stimulation on his dick bringing tears to his eyes. He catches his breath alongside you, watching as Eddie pulls you up to Steve's outdoor shower, rinsing the remnants of your orgasm off in a disguise of wanting to get in the pool. As Steve wipes himself off with a napkin and pulls his shorts back up, finally retrieving the towels, he wonders just how hard Eddie would punch him if he asked to have a go at fucking you.
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galateaschild · 29 days ago
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Smut headcanons: You’re both k-pop trainees and start sleeping with each other
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Male K-pop Trainee!Oc x Male K-pop Trainee!Reader
Warnings: Oc and Reader are 19, bottom!reader, top!oc, loss of virginity, fingering (spit as lube), hand jobs, blow job, anal sex, mentions of taking pictures of + filming sexual activity, unprotected sex (practice safe sex everyone!).
Prompt: You and your dormmate begin getting intimate…
(A/n: Very niche reference but MSA Entertainment is the same as Doona’s in the k-drama ”DOONA”)
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• You had been street casted by MSA Entertainment only two months ago. The company had one active and very popular girl group and were now preparing for the debut of a new boy group.
• You were made to move in with a dormmate when you became a trainee.
• When you first met him you had immediately noted how handsome he was. His eyes lingered on you too.
• Things started out kinda awkward between the two of you, as you were both unsure how to approach each other.
• But during practice he’d soon start approaching you more if he noticed you needed help with a dance move or something.
• The two of you grew closer as friends, VERY close. You both became touchy with each other. To an outsider it looked as if you were feeling each other up.
• Things started become even more intimate between the two of you as ”things” started happening between you.
He’d walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel after showers.
You’d lay around the dormroom in just a pair of white socks and heart patterned boxers.
He’d steal some of your clothes.
You’d steal some of his as revenge.
He’d wake you up in the morning by getting in to bed with you.
You’d start hugging him a lot (even if you weren’t fully clothed at some times)
• And then one night when you were cuddled up on a couch watching a drama, when he placed a hand on your thigh, and started running up to over your heart patterned boxers… you didn’t stop him.
• He snuck a hand into your boxers and started rubbing your cock softly. Making you moan softly.
• Soon he made lay back on the couch as he stripped you of your boxers. He positioned you with your legs spread. He put one of his fingers in your mouth asking you to make it wet for him.
• Then he’d move his hand to your ass and start pushing a finger into you, streching out your untouched virgin hole.
• He smirked as he watched your face scrunch up at the new feeling as he slowly fingered you, eventually adding more fingers inside you.
• He fingered you until you came all over yourself. Ropes of white sticky cum covering your abdomen. He then licked it off of you.
• Then without much talk you both went to bed and nothing happened between you over the next few days.
• The next time would be the following week.
• After a slow practice and a disagreement he’d had with one of the other trainees, he was feeling stressed.
• As the two of you stayed in the practice room to keep working, you soon ended up on your knees in front of the bulge in his sweatpants.
• You lowered his pants and underwear revealing his now hard manhood to you.
• It was your first time giving a blowjob but he helped guide you as you took his dick into your mouth.
• The sight of you with a cock stuffed between your lips made him eager and soon cum was dripping from his cock and your lips onto the practice room floor.
• The first time you two would have sex would start like the first time you started getting intimate, as you were watching a drama.
• You started making out and undressing each other. Until your naked bodies were tangled together.
• After he prepped you, he started pushing his thick cock inside you. You both moved slowly as his shaft streched your tight virgin walls to adjust to him.
• The sound from the tv was drowned out by the heavy moans coming from the two of you.
• He was gentle yet passionate with his movements as he rolled his hips against you. His cock going deep inside you.
• Soon you both reached your climax and you shot your load on your all over your and his abdomen. He followed closely as he flooded you your insides with his orgasm.
• As he pulled out cum was spilling from your deflowered hole.
• After that night sexual activities became a regular occurence between the two of you.
• You explored each others bodies, seeing what the other liked.
• You had sex all over the dorm, the small kitchen counter, the shower, the floor…
• The two of you even ended up fucking in the practice room once.
• He liked it when you would occasionally hold him down and ride him at a rough pace. Seeing your regularly sweet face so determined to take him to his orgasm.
• He likes to take pictures of you once he’s done with you, pictures of you with cum coated lips, cum on your torso, with a cum stuffed hole.
• The two of you even started filming yourselves as you were having sex. His phone now had a full folder of just pictures and videos of you and him.
• His favourite thing is breeding you full of his load, it’s his way of making you his before debut, before he will have to share you with all the future fans.
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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Hey!!! Congrats on 7k that's absolutely epic. Are you willing to do Apple pie(with prompts¹⁾ cartoon-patterned plasters ⁶⁾ scraped knees)
With maybe poly emt marauders and reader who scrapes their knees.
I adore your emt marauders so much.
Thank you lovely!!
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 449 words
“I don’t think it’s fair for you all to be cross with me,” you say while James cleans up your knees. “I only did it because of Sirius.” 
Sirius’ mouth drops open. “I object!” 
“You were the one who dared me to climb the tree.” 
“But I changed my mind before you got halfway up! I deserve impunity.”
Remus comes back in with a box of plasters, side-eyeing him. Sirius makes an incredulous huffing sound.
“How was I meant to know that branch was going to give?” 
James looks up at you. “Do you want me to make him climb the tree, angel?”
You pretend to consider it, regarding Sirius critically. When he cocks an eyebrow, though, you can’t help but smile. “No, that’s alright,” you tell James. “I did still climb it.” 
“I was going to say,” Remus leans on the counter next to where you’re sitting, watching James work, “I thought we all knew better than to accept a dare from Sirius.” 
“Sometimes they’re good,” Sirius protests. Remus casts him a questioning look, and he looks at your battered knees, going sheepish. “Not always, though. Sorry, darling.” 
“It’s fine.” You smile at him, but a second later James surprises you by digging a small rock out of your knee, making you hiss through your teeth. All three boys frown. 
“Sorry, lovie,” James says sympathetically. “Nearly done with this part.” 
You realize you’ve gripped his shoulder without meaning to. You retract your claws carefully. “I’m sorry,” you counter, rubbing the spot. 
Remus offers you his hands instead, and you take them sheepishly. He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. “It’s not your fault,” he says, kissing you on the cheek. “You’re only a victim of Sirius’ misdeeds, remember?”
“You’re right,” you agree readily. Sirius makes a disgruntled sound, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Alright, I think we might just get through this without stitches,” says James. He pretends to wipe his brow on his forearm, then holds a hand out blindly. “Gauze.” 
Remus passes him a plaster. 
“Why does it have rainbows on it?” you ask. 
“We stole these ones from work,” he explains. 
“Oh.” You chuckle, watching as James smooths one plaster over your knee before holding his hand out for another. 
“What’s so funny?” Sirius raises a brow at you. “Are our plasters not good enough for you?” 
“No,” you laugh. “I think they’re great.” 
“Good.” James finishes with your first knee, giving your calf a solid rub before Remus passes him another plaster to begin on the second. “Because let me tell you, lovie, these rainbow ones are a hot item. You’d be the envy of A&E if you walked in wearing these.” 
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unboundprompts · 1 year ago
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Hey, I was wondering how to write nightmares, or sleep paralysis for my next story.
How to Write Nightmares and Sleep Paralysis
Causes of Sleep Paralysis:
Insomnia
PTSD
Anxiety disorders
Panic disorders
Disrupted sleep patterns (ex: jet lag)
Family history
Symptoms of Sleep Paralysis:
Paralysis (duh)
Feeling outside of your body
Chest pressure (as if someone is standing on your chest)
Sense of suffocating or breathlessness
Feeling like there is something dangerous in the room
Nightmares vs Night Terrors:
When having a nightmare, you are likely to wake up during it and will possibly be able to recall the dream or parts of the dream.
When having a night terror, you will not wake up and you won’t be able to recall the dream in the morning.
Symptoms of Nightmares:
Fast heart rate
Shortness of breath
Sweat
Anxiety
Struggling to go back to sleep
Writing Prompts
-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit
She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes darted around the room, quick as lightning. She could see the nightlight she kept in the corner, casting the far wall of her bedroom in a blue light. Then she saw it. It watched her with a thin smile. She tried to sit up, to scream, anything, but she was frozen. The thing noticed her distress, and it stalked towards her, limbs elongated and as dark as the shadows of her room.
He sat bolt upright in bed. His heart was pounding so hard he felt like it was going to break through his chest. He grasped at his shirt, gripping the fabric as tight as he could. His skin was slick with sweat, and he had to peel his clothing off.
They stared up into the eyes of something. It was standing on their chest, looming over them with an emotionless gaze. They couldn't move, their limbs stiff and refusing to listen to their mind pleading with them to run. And so they stared. And the thing stared back.
She woke up screaming.
He tossed and he turned, but no matter what he did or however many times he flipped his pillow over, he could not fall asleep. He was too afraid. Afraid of that same, damn, nightmare.
They ran a stressed hand through their hair as they tried to control their breathing. It was quick, and they felt more and more lightheaded with each passing second. There was nothing they wanted more than to go back to sleep, but every time they closed their eyes it was like they were transported back to that awful dream. They slowly pulled themselves from the bed and stalked to the shower. They knew there was no way they would be able to sleep again tonight, so they might as well start their day.
If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!
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augustinewrites · 2 years ago
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“attention, freeloaders! daddy has an evening announcement to make.”
“never call yourself that,” megumi deadpans, already highly unamused by this meeting.
“anyway,” gojo begins, clasping his hands as he paces in front of the tv. “tonight is the night. you two know the drill.”
“yeah, we know the rules,” megumi interrupts again, throwing his head back against the couch. “can you move? the documentary is starting soon.”
tsumiki nudges his shoulder. “stop interrupting. it’ll be over faster if we just let him talk.”
“thank you, favourite child!” gojo smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss atop her head as her brother rolls his eyes. “as i was saying, tonight is our anniversary. so you will not call, text, email, fax, or even send nue with a letter. if you’re bleeding, call shoko. if you get arrested, call ijichi.”
“satoru?” you ask, stepping into the room. “are you ready to go? the car’s here.”
he takes a step back to look at you, pressing a hand to his chest as he breathes, “wow.”
“right?” you laugh, quickly glancing down at your dress. “i am gonna rock your world tonight, babe.”
“oh yeah? we should just kick these kids out and head to straight to bed then.” he’s in front of you in an instant, gently cupping the side of your neck to pull you in for a sloppy, heated kiss. one that he’s all too quick to deepen. his other hand drifting down the length of your back to grab your—
“gross,” megumi scoffs, prompting you to pull apart. “can you guys act like parents for once?”
“sorry,” you giggle, turning to face the kids as satoru rests his chin on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out at the teen. “i ordered food for you both already and it should be here in a few minutes, alright? call us if you need anything—”
“uh uh,” gojo cuts in, already pulling you towards the door. “don’t call us.”
“my phone is—”
“not going to be on!” gojo fills in, kneeling down to help you slip on your heels.
“we’ll be fine,” tsumiki assures you both. “go. have fun!”
“thank you, honey,” you smile, pulling her into a hug as gojo grabs your purse. “nanami will be here around 10 to stay the night with you guys. the guest bedroom is all set up.”
“so if you need anything, bug him. because we will be very busy.” gojo quips, lacing his fingers through yours. “c’mon, let’s get out of here. be good, you two!”
“goodnight!” you add, using your free hand to blow them two quick kisses before you’re pulled out the door.
_____
“okay babe, you know the deal,” gojo begins with the utmost seriousness as soon as you step into the hotel room, yanking at the knot of his tie. “first order of business is sex. loud, adult, no kids in the next room sex!”
“you’ve been waiting for this for a while, haven’t you?” you ask, though you’re already undoing the buttons of his shirt.
in exchange, his hands find the zipper of your dress, slowly dragging it down.
“oh, you have no idea,” he groans as you trail gentle kisses up his jaw. “we can’t get away with anything in that house.”
“we should make the most of this then.”
“oh, i intend to.”
_____
the two of you lay sunken into the mess of pillows and blankets on the bed, wholly satiated and tangled up in each other in the afterglow.
gojo’s tracing soft, nonsensical pattern across your back as he whispers to you in the dark. “hey, so i’ve been thinking…”
“uh oh.”
he pinches the tip of your nose. “i have good ideas from time to time.”
“alright,” you acquiesce with a roll of your eyes. “let’s hear it then.”
“remember way back then? when the kids were little and cute and didn’t talk back to us?”
“didn’t talk back to me, you mean?”
“whatever,” he laughs. “but you remember, right?”
“of course i do. god, megumi was so cute. and tsumiki! she always wanted her hair in pigtails. it was adorable.”
“right? wouldn’t it be great to have all that cuteness, but condensed into a tiny little baby?”
“you want to have a baby?” you echo, seeming genuinely surprised as you gaze up at him.
“yeah,” he shrugs, feeling his cheeks warm at the admission. “only if you want to.”
“you know babies are a lot more work than kids who have pretty much been self-sufficient since birth, right? we’d have to take time off work and—”
“i know.”
“we’ll have to go through potty training.”
“and we’ll do a much better job than toji. megumi wet the bed until he was seven.”
you slap his shoulder, reminding him that you both promised you’d never talk about that again.
“look we’ll— we’ll raise our kid right,” he assures you. “we had two free trials, and they turned out pretty great.”
“okay,” you breathe, because it’s true. the two of you raise great kids. “okay. before we do this, you need to promise me something right now.”
“anything,” he swears, pressing his lips to each of your knuckles.
“promise me nothing will happen to you,” you whisper, an edge of desperation behind your words. “because i can’t do any of this without you.”
his kiss is a promise in itself. it’s slow and sweet and you contentedly let yourself melt into it. “you don’t have to worry about any of that. you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”
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irisinluv · 3 months ago
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Yandere x Time Traveler Reader
You could recite the rules by memory if you had to. You were read them before each and every time jump. The most important being- don’t do anything to alter the course of history, don’t let anyone know about time travel, and don’t stay longer than necessary. There’s a slew of other minute details to the rule book, time traveling is a delicate business after all. But you love your job, and you understand how important your work is. You see, history records are often sloppy. We do our best to put things together with old newspapers, books, and the occasional photo, but what if you could go back and meticulously record everything the exact way it was?
Well, historians realized they could utilize time travel to observe and document historic events and time periods. That’s where you come in. You are a field agent- dressed in time appropriate clothes, practiced in period accurate slang and culture, armed with a backstory, and ready to jump back in time to learn the things time has forgot.
You’ve done countless runs before, and this one is no different. Go in. Learn everything you can, and then get the hell out. You don’t stay more than a week, and whatever you do, you stick to your company drafted backstory if anyone ask. So, with this in mind, you wave to your team, and step back in time.
The 1920s proved to be more colorful than you’d imagined. Sure you knew not everything was in black and white… but you expected things to be a bit more drab. The streets were busy with old timey cars in each of the primary colors, women bustled down the streets in loose, boxy dresses with gorgeous patterns. You took note that maybe the 20s were onto something when you noticed the high waisted pants all the men seemed to be wearing. You’d certainly be recommending these slutty little numbers make a comeback.
Taking in all these details, you took a moment to enjoy being a tourist in a new time. This was your favorite part of the job- constantly exploring. You loved the freedom you had. Granted you had your rules, but you could go anywhere. Any time. It was fantastic. Ducking into a cafe, you took a second to inspect the menu before ordering, and taking a seat at a booth. You began people watching as you sipped your drink, taking mental notes of everything and anything that you could jot down later. Suddenly, you’re interrupted from your observations as someone slid into the seat across from you in the booth.
Sawyer saw you order and sit down, and was fascinated by you. You carried yourself differently than anyone he’d seen before, with a natural ease and confidence, yet he could see your eyes assessing everything around you with a slight hint of wonder that made him wonder what those eyes would say if they looked his way. After observing you for several minutes, Sawyer made his move.
You couldn’t help but feel comfortable about the man who slid into your booth and started chatting with you. It wasn’t against the rules to talk with people like this- it was often crucial in fact. As long as you didn’t do anything drastic like save or end their life, convince them of some major course of action, etc…. It often paid to have a friend in an unfamiliar time. So when Sawyer asked you if you had plans this evening…. You had told him you were free.
Now it’s a quarter to 6 and he’s picking you up at the hotel you’d arranged earlier in the day. You had a change of clothes already packed for the occasion, and were buzzing to see inside a real speakeasy during prohibition. Sawyer was prompt in picking you up, and it was only a short walk to a back door of a building. He was ushered inside and soon the two of you were sitting together, leaning close to speak as you sipped (rather horrible) watered down drinks.
You kept to your story- you were traveling from the countryside, and would be in town for the next week. Sawyer noticed, however, how much you steered the conversation away from yourself. You did so skillfully and he had to admire that, but you were secretive none the less. Of course, this only served to further fascinate the man. What was originally just a little crush began to turn into a burning need to know more. What were those calculating eyes of yours thinking? Why did you take everything in with such wonder, like you were committing every detail to memory? He had to know.
For the next several days, Sawyer acted as your guide through the city, showing you clubs and shows and the best places to eat. You found yourself genuinely enjoying his company, and it wasn’t hard to tell he greatly enjoyed yours- showing up first thing each morning to escort you on another adventure. You realized you needed to begin distancing yourself from him, however, as he was pressing you for more details about yourself, and was expertly dodging your attempts at redirection. So, with only a few days left before you had to return, you switched hotels. Went to a different part of town, and began looking into the affairs of a few businesses. You needed to round out your research more anyways.
Sawyer arrived at his usual time, only to find you gone. The hotel attendant explained you’d checked out early, and left no explanation. Sawyers heart stopped. You were the love of his life. He knows it’s sudden, and stupid, he hardly knows you…. But at the same time he feels like he knows you better than anyone else alive. In the few days you’d spent together he’d taken in every little detail about you. He could tell when you were excited or disgusted just by the way your nose twitched. He knew your food preferences, knew how to make you laugh, and just felt like he knew you on a soul deep level…. But you were gone. You’d left him….
You were taking note of the stock in a grocery store a few days later when Sawyer finally saw you. He didn’t approach, instead, followed you back to your hotel. He watched you through a sliver in the curtains as you pulled out a pad of paper and began writing. He watched until you fell asleep, and then slowly crept in through the window. He gently picked up the notepad, only to furrow his brows, confused. You were…. Taking note of the style of labels on soup cans, and the price stickers used? He looked around the room and saw a few other note pads, gently placing the one he’d grabbed back next to your sleeping form, he began snooping through the rest of your notes. You had pages and pages written about what you’d observed, meticulous notes littered with your own commentary and thoughts. And that’s when Sawyer realized the truth. He didn’t have all the details- but he knew you were from the future. You were from the future, and you’d be leaving him in less than 24 hours.
He knew he had to act. He found the small device you would use to return home- it was disguised as a watch, and tucked away inside one of your luggage bags. Holding the small object in his hand, he came up with a plan. Shooting one last look to your sleeping form, he made sure everything was as you left it, aside from your watch, which he slipped in his pocket, and then crept back outside.
The next day, you hustled to finish investigating the last few things your colleagues were interested in. You were walking down the road when you heard a familiar voice call out. Closing your eyes and letting out a soft curse, you turned to see Sawyer racing towards you with a grin.
“Hey! There you are! When they told me you’d checked out a few days ago I’d assumed you left! Glad I found you though! Did you lose a watch by any chance? I found it in the pocket of that coat you borrowed after the theater, it’s small and gold with some swirling patterns carved into it?”
Your eyes widened…. That was your ticket home. How the hell did you not notice it was gone?? You thank him profusely for finding it, and tell him that yes, it’s yours! He clarifies,
“It’s back at my place, I didn’t think I’d run into you so I wasn’t carrying with me. If you’d like, you can swing by my house with me and pick it up?”
Of course you readily agree- after all, you need to leave in a few hours, and seeing inside his house would be great for your research. So, you agree to go home with him. I mean you only had a few hours left. Saying goodbye for real this time wouldn’t hurt.
Sawyers breath catches as you step inside his house. Why does this seem so natural? So perfect? You, fingers lightly tracing the wood banister as you take it all it. You, turning to look where he stands in the entryway - God, he can imagine coming home from work, with you greeting him with a smile just like this. The only thing missing is a kiss. He blinks out of it as he realizes you’re asking about your watch.
“Oh, yes, of course! It’s just down here, follow me!”
He leads you downstairs to a partially finished basement. Partially finished is a loose term. It’s a usable area at least, a workbench in once corner, and minimal boxes cluttering the space. Instead, it’s relatively clean, there’s a few chairs and a couch set up. Far from a living space, but it’s certainly functional. You’re taking all this in when suddenly you’re pulled back wards, stumbling into a chair. Ropes are wound around your midsection, pinning your arms and torso to a chair. You cry out and squirm but he’s surprisingly fast and strong,wrangling your kicking feet until they’re tied to the chair legs. Soon, you’re securely bound to the chair, and he didn’t even have to knock you out. He finds it kind of adorable how easily he overpowered you if he’s being honest.
You cry out and ask him what he’s doing, demand he lets you go! But he only produces your watch from his pocket, and stares at it with curious eyes.
“So, this little thing is your ticket back, hm? I wonder what it’s like- your world. Your time….”
Your eyes grow wide. He knows. He knows you’re not from this time period. That’s breaking one of the most important rules. This in itself could have irreparable consequences to the course of history… what if he decides to use it? Decides to travel through time, un-trained, causing chaos!?
“Please! You have no idea the consequences this will have! You can’t use it! Please- there’s a way things have to be done, you could permanently alter the course of human history with the littlest misstep! The future depends on you letting me go and giving me that watch back!”
He steps closer to you and gently strokes your cheek, realizing you don’t get it. You think you’re tied up because he’s interested in the time traveling. You think he’s going to misuse it. Silly you. He’s not interested in traveling through time.
“Darling… come now. There’s no need to worry. I’m not going to use your watch.”
Your gaze turns confused as you look up at him, and he adores watching your eyes as you try to puzzle your way through this one. He takes pity on you and leans forward to press a kiss to your lips.
And then you watch as he drops and crushes your way home beneath his boot.
“The only future I’m interested in…. Is ours.”
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