#this idea is brainrot because it will rot my brain and never be written

[scrumptiouswordsthings]

erasermic au brainrot

the idea of a dance crew erasermic au fic has been haunting my brain - Yamada and Aizawa would have such unique dance styles (but also would they be on the same crew? allied crew? enemy?)

c’mon - a dance battle between them would be *lit* plus you know they would both be skilled well beyond their specialty

[safination]

The Wrong Competitor

|Masterlist| Ao3| NOW WITH A PART 2: |The Actual Competitor| Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader. Platonic! Vox & Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, , Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, being a simp for your partner, husband! Alastor. demon! Alastor, drinking,flirting

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. There are two drinks secured around one hand. The other reaches out for a handshake. Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier. “Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shame to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively and the food and drinks are delicious.” Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask as he sees you reaching out. Well, that won’t do. He takes the handshake intended for you, shaking Vox’s hand with a firmer grip than needed. You’re determined to enjoy yourself and Alastor prides himself on being a husband. So, he won’t cause a scene—not today at least. The handshakes last longer than handshakes should last. Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips. You tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning to his bicep to hide your scowl. TLDR: The Hazbin Hotel decides to hold a masquerade party. Despite his better judgment, Alastor invites his wife even if he’s aware of Vox’s attendance, who’s keen on competing with Alastor for his wife’s attention….If only Alastor knew how much you and Vox would gag at the idea of him flirting with you. It’s not his wife’s attention that Vox competes for. It’s not even Alastor who he’s competing with. Actually… Alastor isn’t part of the competition.

Have a little brainrot of mine. Lol just pure on crack of the silliest shit. Tell me what you guys think because I found this so fucking hilarious that I had to write it down. Anyway, have my heavily unedited brain rot. I tried a different writing voice today instead of my usual third person-second person pronoun pov, and tried like an all around pov. Update: *6/19/2024 We lost electricity at home so instead of studying, I decided to polish my un-polished crack. Everything's the same, it's just written better and I didn't add much.

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Alastor slithers out of the shadows below, stepping out from the darkness that pools underneath you. There are hundreds  of shadows to pop out of, still it’s your shadow that Alastor chooses to spring out from. There’s a smile painting his lips as he materializes. A deer mask covers half his face.

“Goodness,” you say, mirroring his smile. “What am I supposed to do when strange yet handsome Sinners pop out of my shadow without a warning.”

Alastor steps further into the light. “Handsome?”

And oh…oh.

(Oh, indeed. Alastor is wearing a tail-coat, a vest hidden underneath. Oh god he’s wearing a vest. One side of his hair slick back, allowing stray strands to flutter around the deer mask. When you run your hand across his biceps…you feel it underneath your touch—Sleeves garters.)

The smile on your lips widens, and you’re thankful that a mask covers your own face. “I’d call you handsome any day, sweetheart,” you tell him. “If it’s alright with your wife, of course. Such a charming little thing like you surely belongs to someone.”

“I think I like you better than my wife.” Alastor inches closer to press a kiss. “She never compliments me as much as you do.”

A delighted humm escapes you. “Then she’s quite the fool, for you are quite the charmer.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small laugh escaping as he smoothens some feathers that stick out your head. “You didn’t have to join me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be too busy with work to be next to you.”

“Then you should have thought about that before you gave me an invitation to Charlie’s party.” You reach out to smoothen the lines of his tail-coat, pulling on it to adjust its fit around his body. “And I’m already here, wearing a very, very, expensive dress.”

“Do you even enjoy such parties?” Alastor grabs your wrists before your hands can trail any further. “It seems your mind would rather be somewhere else.”

“There’s food and music, and I get the excuse to wear such a lovely dress.” You pull your wrist from his hold, catching his hand to intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you like it? I hope you do, considering I received it along with the invitation.”

Alastor lifts his arm, twirling you underneath to flare the skirt of the dress. “You look almost as dashing as I do.”

“Ha! And that’s precisely why I must join you, deerest.” You smack his bicep in good fun, barking out a laugh. Dear god, he’s wearing the leather sleeve garter tonight.) “With such dashing good looks, I’l fear others may try to take your attention.”

He flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

Alastor slips off the deer mask, gazing straight into you. Those eyes of his shine brighter than the stars above this Hell. He reaches out, and pulls on the ribbon that secures your own mask to your face.

There are feathers on your mask. It mimics the bird you are. Alastor inches closer, staring straight into you once there’s nothing to obstruct his view.

“That’s mine,” you say, trying to grab your mask.

Alastor shoves the deer mask on your face. The force causes you to stumble back a little. He’s such a nuisance, honestly…but …but well, his fingers brush over your feathers as he ties the ribbon on his mask. 

Strands of your feathers flow between his fingers as it lingers. Alastor presses the feathers to his mouth, brushing them with his lips. “I think our masks are a bit too on the nose,” he says, and each word caresses your feathers. “Deer masks suit you much better, and this way, I can spot you from even across the room.”

Alastor inches lower until you meet his eyes. You take the bird mask and tie the ribbon around his head, securing it on him.

There’s a feather that sticks out your head. Alastor picks it out. The stray feather gets waved around until he tucks it within the mask.

You reach out to remove the feather, but Alastor catches your wrist and presses a single kiss on the inside.

“The color of my feathers are different from the ones on the mask,” you tell him. “Come on, take it out. It sticks out a bit too much.”

“I’ll have you know that I quite like the feathers.” Alastor plays with the feather on his mask. “More importantly��tell me about your day. I want to know every second of every minute…it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

“You would know all about my day if you were living at our home with me,” you tell him, crossing your arms. “You know, the home that we’ve built together for the past few decades?”

Alastor plays with the edges of your pinky before intertwining his fingers around your hand. “Or…” he begins, and presses a single kiss on the wedding ring around your finger. “I would known if you lived at the hotel…with me.”

There’s a smug smile on you. “Are you asking me to live with you?”

“Would you?”

“I would.”

“I’m still rather hesitant to involve you with the hotel…yet I found myself sending an invitation anyway.” Alastor presses a kiss on the edge of your lips, letting himself linger. 

“An invitation?”you say, faking a gasp. “That’s weird because I swore the invitation came with a dress as well. Hmmm, now I’m wondering who sent such a piece to me.”

“I found myself sending an invitation…and a dress.” Alastor rolls his eyes. “But the point still stands, it’s safer if you are at our home. It’s quiet and secure and doesn’t have a giant sign pointing straight at its door.”

“Ah yes…that,” you say. “I heard about it on the televisi—newspaper. It must be tiring to be attacked thrice in one day.”

Alastor shakes his head, pulling you into a tight hug. One hand presses on the back of your head, cradling you gently. “Just before I lose you to my job.”

You steal a kiss from him. “As if you could ever lose me.”

Music beats through the cracks of the Hazbin Hotel’s door. Alastor escorts you inside, a bird mask on his face as he runs his thumb up and down the skin of your hand. You adjust the deer mask on your face before following him deeper inside.

The door opens easily, and you walk inside, arm in arm with the Radio Demon. The fun about masquerade balls is being able to hide behind a mask.

 Except from those who really pay attention.

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. Two drinks are secured around one hand. The second reaches out for a handshake. 

Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier.

“Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shake to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively, and the food and drinks are delicious.”

Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask when he sees you reaching out to shake Vox’s hand.

Well, that just won’t do! Alastor takes the handshake intended for you, grabbing Vox’s hand before you can reach it, and shakes his hand with a firmer grip than needed.

You’re determined to enjoy yourself, and Alastor prides himself for being a Husband.  (Rosie tells him that there’s a difference between ‘a husband’ and ‘a Husband’ with one clearly better than the other.) So, Alastor won’t cause a scene—not today at least.

Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips as he shakes Alastor’s hand. It forces you to tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning into his bicep to hide a scowl.

The handshake lasts longer than handshakes should last.

Vox offers you a glass. “I brought drinks to start,” he says, keeping the second glass around his hold closer to him. “I hope I’m remembering this correctly—but you still enjoy lemony flavors, correct?”

“How delightful!” Alastor tries to take the drink intended for you.

Vox quickly retracts the drink, taking a single step backwards. “It’s for the lady.”

Alastor’s smile widens ever so slightly into a snarl.

You take the drink from Vox, smiling as lemony goodness fills your senses. Not many bartenders keep such flavors. Part of you wonders if Alastor organized the bar to keep your favorite drink in stock.

One hand trails up Alastor’s back as static emits from his skin. It snakes around until it hooks behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s just a quick peck of the lips, but Alastor places a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Such things are reserved in the confines of privacy, but it seems he doesn’t mind tonight.

There’s an imprint of your lipstick on his skin. It’s something you don’t bother mentioning to him

“Just before I lose you to the crowd,” you say.  “I’m sure you can’t leave your post for so long, and I’ve already kept you for far too long. Don’t worry about me—I won’t be too far from your gaze.”

Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek before walking away.

With a scowl on his screen, Vox turns the other direction.

You trail behind him, smiling at the second untouched drink around his hand. It seems he’s also wearing a tail-coat tonight, but it doesn’t suit him as handsomely as it does for your husband.

“So, it seems you're here,” Vox tells you, that proud Overlord puff on his chest as he walks around the room. “And here I was wondering why the life in the room suddenly became dull.”

“Funny,” you say, matching his steps. “It seems you’re still pining for my husband—Will you ever give up on him?”

“Ah yes…the same husband who disappeared on your for seven years,” he says, casually swirling the second drink in his hand. “He left you once, he can leave you again.”

You take a sip of your drink, letting the taste of lemon slide down your throat even as your eye twitches from underneath the deer mask. “It’s quite hilarious to know you still remember how my husband hates lemon undertones in his drink.”

“Well, I didn’t want him choking on such unrefined tastes.”

“Is this meant for Alastor?” You grab the second glass from his hand, bringing it closer to your nose. “Whiskey. Ah… it was meant for him. What—were you too scared to give it to him?”

Vox barks out a laugh, crossing his arm. “It’s for me, actually.”

“Then drink it.”

“It’s been compromised by your stench.” Vox takes the glass and tosses it away.

From across the room, Alastor swirls his whiskey and allows his eyes to wander across the crowd. In a room full of Sinners, he can never be too careful especially when you’re involved. It’s then that his eyes catch Vox inching closer to you, and it’s then that his grip on the glass tightens.

Charlie smiles at Alastor as he doesn’t seem to be listening to her. That’s alright—it’s quite loud and drinks often tend to loosen him up. Alastor’s looking at her, but his body faces the crowd as he leans on one of the tables. It’s almost as if he’s looking out.

It’s been the same pattern for almost fifteen-minutes ever since Alastor came back with a bird mask instead of his own deer mask. Charlie would say something, and he would nod. From time to time, Alastor would glance out into the crowd in the same direction his body is facing.

“So, I had an idea to get more sponsors,” Charlie tells him, tapping the glass for her soda. “We can do a whole music number with flowers and dancing and singing, and I just thought you could be our main lead! The genre would be rap music.”

Alastor’s eyes slid to the crowd once more. “What a spectacular idea!”

Charlie follows his gaze until they land on you. Well, that certainly solved the mystery of where his deer mask went and where the bird one came from. One of the feathers on Alstor’s mask matches yours perfectly.

“Do you think we can get more TVs for the hotel?” she asks. “And I don’t mean the old ones, but the flat-screens that are about fifty-inches.”

You glance over at Alastor and Charlie when you notice their looks, and offer a small smile and a wave.

Alastor smiles back, giving you a wave as well. “Perhaps.”

“How about some digital cameras?” she says. “All of us could take a happy family portrait.”

“Of course.”

Wait-staff carry trays of different types of appetizers. Vox snatches a couple tiny platters, offering some to you. The first bite causes you to hum with delight. It’s quite delicious…but quite small. Vox offers another tiny plate to you, and it’s grabbed enthusiastically.

It’s great that Vox took more than one.

He bites into the cracker with some kind of seafood on them, humming at the taste. “You’ve aged.”

“Yes, it seems I have.” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you take another sip of your drink. “I’m quite lucky that I’m in the company of my husband to grow old with. It’s quite the treat to be able to live day to day with Alastor.”

Vox offers you a bite of the cracker.

You take it, nodding and humming with delight at the taste. “Oh, that’s quite good—here, taste this one.”

At the sight of your laughter, Alastor’s drink shatters into tiny pieces of broken glass. It shatters to the floor.

Charlies raises an eyebrow at him. It only takes a snap of her fingers for magic to work its wonders and clean the broken glass and replace his drink.

“Apologies,” Alastor says, smile widening just a fraction. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “I forgot my own strength.”

Once more, Charlie follows Alastor’s gaze until it lands on you, and once more, the glass in his hand shatters when he sees Vox inching closer to offer you some appetizers and then your laughter.

Charlie snaps her fingers and a new drink appears in his hold. “I’m going to run out of glasses eventually.”

Alastor takes a turn around the ballroom after Charlie kicks him away from the corner. It’s all he can do to call his growing ire to keep the guests happy. Afterall, it’s him who controls his emotions and not the other way around. There’s also the matter of his job.

A Sinner blocks his patch, a doll-like smile on her face. “Do you happen to be the Radio Demon?”

“In the flesh!” Alastor’s smile widens to show off the yellow in his teeth, giving a little bow.

“I wasn’t sure with the mask,” she says, motioning towards it. “My friends said they spotted you earlier with a deer mask, but it seems you’ve changed it. I quite like the feathers .... Although, the one that’s different kind of sticks out.”

A muscle in his cheek tightens. “I’m quite fond of that feather,” he says. “It means quite a lot to me, and I don’t take kindly to those who insult what is precious to me.”

“Oh…of course,” she says. “It suits you quite well.”

She points a finger towards his bowtie. It seems it’s a bit crooked. There’s a smile on her face as she reaches out her sully hands to fix it.

Alastor takes a single step back, making it a point to show it off to her that he’s doing so.

The doll-like smile on her face wobbles a little. That’s fine. Alastor always hated dolls. “Oh…um…,” she says, scrambling to recover. “There’s a stain on your lips.”

His ears flicker for a moment, but he runs his thumb across his mouth. Red stains his gloves. It’s the color of your lipstick. “It seems I do.”

“Been drinking too much wine tonight?” She offers him a handkerchief.

“No need.” Alastor takes out his own handkerchief. It has his initials carefully embroidered on them.  He goes to wipe your stain on his lips, but decides against it. “The wine they serve here is quite bland, but luckily there’s something much sweeter on the palate.”

Her smile fades into a frown when she notices the embroidery on the edges of his handkerchief.

Alastor continues to stand with a smile as she tries her best to compliment him in the smallest of ways. It’s quite nice to hear such compliments that inflate his ego.

Although… It's a bit weird.

The thrill of sudden recognition doesn’t hit as high as before. It’s just stagnant now. Praise doesn’t thrill him like they should.

Alastor allows his mind to wander, and his ego inflated to the highest degree when he imagines you standing before him instead, saying the things this random Sinner tells him. (He should figure out a way to get you to compliment him more.)

Plates of food and dozens of empty glass litter the bar table. It’s the aftermath of downing unlimited alcohol and enjoying some appetizers as insults are hurled that not even a merciful god can forgive.

Vox takes a bite of the olive and flicks the toothpick that came with his drink. It lands between your feathers.

A curse escapes your mouth as you try to dig it out. “Why are you even here?”

“It’s a party.” Vox hands you another drink. “I like the music, the drinks are unlimited, and this is quite fun.”

The drink gets downed in one gulp, and you flick the toothpick at a passing Sinner’s hair. It lands between the strands of his hair. “That’s one more point for me,” you say, pumping your fist. “Come on, TV boy—give me my point.”

Vox’s head flashes. It goes from his face to a screen with both your names on it. The number below your name increases on point before his face returns once more.

You shimmy a little dance as your point increases.

Vox makes a face, cringing at your dance. “You’re such a fucking loser.”

“Ha! His loser,” you say, sticking out your tongue.

“You’re still five points down,” he tells you, scowling as he grabs a passing drink from a waiter. “Why suggest this game if you’re not even good at it.”

You shrug, grumbling a little. “I always win against Alastor.”

“Are we not going to get in trouble?” Vox swirls the drink in his hand. “This is still a royal’s party.”

“Aren’t you an Overlord?” you say, taking another bite of a cracker. “Act like it. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s going to call you out.”

The music catches your attention, and it pulls your focus to the dance floor. Oh…Alastor’s dancing. His broad back puffs out as he moves across the floor with purpose and grace. There’s a charming smile on his face as he dances along the beat of the music.

That looks fun.

 It would certainly be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress by blending in with the decorations on the walls.

You turn to Vox. “Care to dance?”

Vox takes another toothpick, flicking it. It missed the Sinner’s hair. He curses while you pump your fist. “With you?” he says, making a face “Ew—no, that’s disgusting.”

“Alastor’s dancing right now,” you say. “It looks fun.”

Vox raises an eyebrow and glaces to the dance floor. A snarl appears on his lips when he notices that smug smile on the woman dancing with Alastor. “A new challenger?”

You tilt your head, and feathers slide across your face as you observe Alastor dancing. Oh, Vox’s right. There’s a woman with him right now. “Oooooh, who’s that? She’s quite the belle—smash.”

Vox turns to you, making a face. It’s quite funny to see. “Do you even know what that mean—”

“I know what I said.”

His screen shifts and paragraphs of information appear on his face. “Oh…she’s one of the daughters of the Ars Goetia.” The scowl on his face deepens as he continues watching, and he offers an arm towards you. “Come on—let’s dance. Game on, bitch.”

“Just ignore her,” you tell him. “She’s no threat to me, and I allow you to flirt with Alastor all the time.”

“That’s because I play fair,” Vox says, rolling his eyes. “We have our rules, and it creates order. This bitch doesn’t know that…and hasn’t someone ever told her—three’s a crowd.”

Once more, you turn to the dance floor. Alastor’s graceful movements catch your eyes and a delighted hum escapes your lips. His body dances with control and power. There’s awe in the woman’s face as Alastor dances with her. 

That’s alright—she’s only doing her due diligence.

Only a blind fool wouldn’t appreciate how Alastor’s hair sways with each side-step, or how his tail-coat fits handsomely across his back, or how charming his smile paints across his lips, or how the dress-pants he wears compliments how long his legs are.

Vox may be a fool but at least he isn’t blind.

“Holy fuck! Woman—get it together!” Vox points towards the dance floor, to the Sinner dancing with Alastor.

There’s a triumph in her smile. She dances with Alastor as if she won.

Vox watches your expression carefully, chuckling as a cold look steels your face despite the gentle smile. Oh, it is so on.

“Well, this just won’t do. If there’s one thing I hate—it’s those who don’t know their place,” you say, snaking your arm around Vox with a smile. “Game on, bitch.”

Vox escorts you towards the middle of the dance floor, that proud Overlord puff back on his chest. It’s quite easy to match his movements when he always was quite the talented dancer.

“Hey…,” you say, eyes twitching. “What are you doing?”

Vox’ hands hover above your skin, refusing to make contact. “I’m afraid that if I touch you, my life would turn to ruin like everything else that has had the misfortune of meeting you,” he tells you, a triumphant smile on his lips. “And you’re doing the exact same thing!”

“That’s because I’m married. It would be improper of me to be touching such a slimy Sinner.” You slam the point of your heel right on his shoe. “My apologies…it would be much easier to dance if you’re actually holding me.”

Vox steps on your toes, and you snarl at him. “You first, witch.”

“As you say whenever Velvette tells you to take a bath—no thanks.”

“The I guess you say the same thing about shampoo—”

“May I interrupt?”  There’s a wide smile on Alastor’s lips that show off the yellow in his teeth. He stands in the middle of the ballroom, not caring as others give him weird looks for blocking the path. Alastor stands proud as his hand offers itself to you.

Across the dance floor, there’s an irritated look on the woman’s face when Alastor abandoned her mid-dance. There’s a smile on your lips as you show her what real triumph looks like.

Vox smiles at him, and hands you towards your husband. “Of course.”

He takes your hand, playing with the tips of your fingers before intertwining them. A hand snakes around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The music flows slowly across the room. It’s sweet melodies forcing you to lean your head on his chest.

Alastor squeezes your hand.

You squeeze back.

His legs slide between your as Alastor dips you low, a hand on the small of your back to support your waist. He takes the lead in this waltz, spinning and twirling your around while pressing himself as close as possible to you.

The side of his cheek, nuzzles into the crown of your feathers as you’re swayed around the ballroom.

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a corner,” you say, snaking your hand up and down his back as if to pet it. “I owe Vox two dances. You interrupted the first, but there’s still the matter of the second one.”

Alastor’s hand tightens around you, and shadows flare around the room. It causes dancing couples to instinctively take a step away. “Did he force you into a deal?”

“Not at all,” you say, nuzzling into his hold. “I lost a bet, that’s all. You know me, I get rather competitive, and got a little bored a while ago after getting my fill of food and drinks.”

 “I’ll take your place so just stay far away from him.” Alastor’s smile turns into a snarl. “Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again after this.”

You go on the tip of your toes to press a kiss. “Thank you.”

Alastor twirls you underneath his arm. “I never got to ask…,” he begins. “How do you like my outfit?”

“It suits you very well, my love,” you tell him. “In fact, I have to say that you are the most handsomest of handsome, and those pants really do you some justice.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

“Should I really?”

“No…,” he says, leaning into your ear. “I want to hear more.”

The dance ends eventually, and Alastor behind you with one hand on your shoulders and the other holding you to escort you like a gentleman.

Vox greets you with a wave, another drink around his hand.

You step out of Alastor’s hold and press a hand on Vox’ shoulder to whisper into his ear. “As you dance with my husband, I want you to know that he’s taking your hand only because I allow it,” you tell him with a smile. “I want you to know that it’s only possible because of the permission I grant you.”

Vox snorts and offers a hand out for Alastor. “Understood.”

The musicians play their instruments and music once again fills the dancefloor. Sinners stay paces away as Vox and Alastor dance, especially given the threatening expression on Alastor’s face. It’s funny how Vox doesn’t seem to mind Alastor’s darkened gaze.  The irritated look on your husband's face makes you a bit guilty. Oh well, you’ll make it up to him later.

The dance ends, and both Vox and Alastor go their separate ways once more. There’s a twinkle in Vox’s eyes as he gives you a small nod of farewell. It has you shaking your head.

Alastor wipes his hands before taking your hand once more. “Let’s go.”

“Already?” you say, frowning. “We’ve only had one dance so far.”

“We can dance to your heart's content, my love…just not here,” Alastor says, fixing the straps of your dress. His hands ghost around the zipper, and it lingers there for more than a moment. “Apparently, I’ve maxed out my working days. Charlie told me it was in my contract and I have to spend them before I can go back to work at the hotel. She practically kicked me out. So, I have the next few days off.”

“That’s good.”

“Shall we go?” Alastor brings your hand closer, pressing a kiss on the ring around your finger. “Home—our home.”

“Really?” you say. “You’re going to go home with me?”

“For the next two weeks.”

Alastor watches your smile brighten as your eyes crinkle. It’s the most precious thing in this ballroom, and its radiance can light up the whole room. You spring up to hug him, squealing as you wrap your arms around his neck. The force of your hug causes him to take a couple steps back to keep from falling over. Alastor places a hand on the small of your back to steady you.

His bowtie is crooked. 

You point towards it,and reach out a hand to straighten the fabric. Alastor takes a single step forward, leaning down to allow more access. The pads of your thumb smoothen his crooked bowtie.

Vox catches your eyes and he toasts a drink in your direction.

You remove the wedding ring around your finger, slipping it over your middle finger instead. The ring and the finger are presented to Vox as you leave with Alastor’s arm around your waist.

Game on, bitch.

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Alastor whenever someone flirts with you : hiss hiss, get away from my wife. Reader whenever someone flirts with Alastor: Fucking understandable. Finally, someone with good fucking taste. This is so funny and silly. Vox and Reader are so sibling-coded that it wonderful. I love fan-fiction. I love how unserious it can be

[myokk]

As someone who is constantly in awe of you, whether it’s art or writing, how do you stay motivated? 😭💙💖 such talent shouldn’t be legal!

Hi😭🥹🫶 I don’t know what I did to deserve such high praise😭😭🥹🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂💓💓💓💓

I only started writing in January & these fanarts I started in April so maybe I’m not the best to answer but I’ll try!!🫶🫶🫶

Short answer: I’m motivated by brainrot & the characters that move into my brain and demand to be drawn/written😭

Longer answer: I’ve always loved and been obsessed with stories & even before I learned fanfic was a thing last year (I live under a rock), I was always creating these crazy stories in my brain. I used to play the sims a lot for example…I would literally delete every premade family & make my own super complex relationships/generational drama and just watch the chaos play out and I always had so much fun coming up with different storylines and thinking about their personalities and how they would probably interact with each other.

I also read like CRAZY !!! 😳 I am a book devourer & am especially drawn to very long books that have beautiful writing and amazing characterizations:

Lonesome Dove (my favorite book of all time with my favorite character of all time, Gus🥺)

The Brothers Karamazov

Anna Karenina

Ulysses

100 Years of Solitude (100 años de soledad)

Rayuela (Hopscotch) & basically every Cortázar short story

Ok basically every Latin American novel/short story from the 20th century let’s be honest😆

The Mists of Avalon

Jane Austen

Donna Tartt

Etc etc etc I JUST LOVE READING !!!!

And so, even though I don’t consider myself a very good writer, and I would never even hope to become as good as the authors I read, I think it’s fun to try and capture some feelings and emotions of what it’s like to be human💓 I always try to write the characters with love and care and maybe it’s my obsession to make them almost three-dimensional that keeps my brain rot strong😆 I might not achieve it but I’m having a lot of fun trying…

As for creating so consistently, the writing part isn’t so hard bc once I get an idea in my mind I just want to write it! I don’t get oneshot ideas often but when I do I’m like😳✍️✍️✍️✍️ until it’s over😆 I think coming up with plot/ideas/characterizations takes me a lot longer than actually writing - I barely edit what I post because what I write down is already pretty polished.

For my art, I just love the human body/anatomy/angles etc and I have a lot of fun trying to make the drawings have a lot of movement and that’s kind of what motivates me. Art is also my job & so I’m just used to doing it all the time & these fanarts are a fun way to cool down after I do my “normal” art. The more I draw the more ideas I get, and I like to draw scenes from either my fanfic, or scenes that I think are cute but will probably never happen. But THEN sometimes the “extra” drawings inspire things, like my latest oneshot🫶

If you’re reading this and you’re a writer or artist too & look at it differently I would LOVE to hear what you think!!! Since I’m just starting out with all of this maybe there are better methods😆🫶 for me it’s just a love for stories and wanting to create all the time!!!

[heartofwritiing]

and you just can’t say goodbye.

paring: (zombur) William Godwinson x fem!reader

summary: Wil gets bitten, and angst ensues.

authors note: HUGE thanks to @ax-y10 for the help because originally this fic was gonna end a lot more agnsty but then they gave me an idea that was more on the happy side! I've never written a zombie apocalypse setting before so please excuse anything I get wrong. I've only watched other people play The Last of Us and I've briefly seen one episode of The Walking Dead so you can see how this will probably go. lol. The Sorry Boys zombie video is brain-rotting in my head rn I've watched it about four times now. yes. I love Zombur, so here's a drive-by of me throwing this fic at you and then skirting off with smoke from my tires. enjoy the brainrot :p (I'm so sorry this took me so long to get out, I've been procrastinating finishing it because I'm having some self-doubt at the minute but I hope you guys like this anyway even though it's a mess lol)

warnings: zombie apocalypse au, angst, death, violence, swearing, lots of kissing, characters use guns, the writer doesn't know anything about how guns work lmao, sort of happy end? super unedited!

"shit! I'm out of ammo!"

You pulled the trigger on the handgun once more, but nothing. It was luck that you had even found one. Even so early on in an apocalypse. A month had gone by since the first day of the outbreak. Though it was likely that you should've died on the first day, you don't know why you've survived this long. you should be dead.

At first, you thought staying in your apartment was the best chance you had of surviving. Big mistake. That strategy turned south when your front door was barged in after four days of no disturbance from any outsiders. Your boyfriend Wil had grabbed everything you could carry, and you hadn't stopped moving ever since.

Now, you and Wil found yourselves trapped in an alley with no escape. A pack of infected had cornered you, slowly closing in while making menacing noises. Wil bravely stood between you and the horde, fighting them off to protect you.

"Climb up the fire escape!" he shouted back at you.

You looked around until you spotted a ladder conveniently placed on the side of the building within reach. Infected were dropping like flies as Wil's shots echoed through the air. The ladder shook as you climbed, heart pounding in your ears. You glimpsed down to check and see if Wil was following, to find he was surrounded on all sides by infected. Your heart dropped when you saw one of their mouths was too close to his wrist. By the time you called out his name, it was already too late.

'Fuck!' Wil screamed as the infected bit through his skin and charred his flesh. Blood gushed down his arm and around the infected's mouth. You cry his name as he reeled back his fist and punched the infected repeatedly until it staggered off of him, but it was too late. Your eyes were fixed on him as he quickly climbed up the ladder, gasping for breath as he did so. He seemed in immense pain as he pulled his body up the ladder, slightly struggling.

Upon reaching the roof, you found a roof access leading to a floor with multiple doors, revealing it to be an apartment complex. Wil was already feeling the effects of the infection. His skin was sticky with sweat, the bitter taste left in his mouth tasting the blood rising in his throat, and the sudden vertigo he got just by rushing down the stairs was enough to make him nauseous.

You came to the floor with all the apartment units and quickly kicked in the door of the closest one. It took a few attempts to kick the door, and then bam! The sound of splitting wood and the door bouncing off the wall made a delirious Wil jump.

You entered the small room, helping Wil through the doorway, and setting him down gently before closing the door. You searched around for something to barricade the door with. Just in case of any infected find you. The only thing that looked heavy enough was the dresser tucked into the corner. Using all your muscles, you pushed the object across the room with the bottom of the dresser scraping against the wood, grimacing at the loud noise.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you knew you were safe for now. You dusted your hands off and turned back to Wil who was slumped against the wall on the floor, clutching his bitten arm. Wincing and squirming from the heat burning through his skin spreading throughout his veins.

The room was dim, and you noticed the sweat beading down his forehead. You quickly took your backpack off your shoulders and strode over to him. Taking out the first-aid kit you had for emergencies, you pulled out the tiny bottle of anti-septic cleaning solution and the roll of bandages.

You gazed down at his wrist, which was curled against his chest, shrouding you from looking at it. The ring of teeth marks oozing out the color of maroon as black vines protruded around the area, extending over his skin. His head lulled to the side as he let out a moan of pain.

"No, baby, keep your eyes open," you tried to lure him back to consciousness. Take his hand and position it palm up in your lap. He whines like a wounded animal in response.

Unscrewing the cap, you quickly prep the cotton pads. Then you quickly realize you should've put on gloves beforehand. Muttering curses under your breath you shake your head at the thought, There was no time.

"What are you doing?" Wil's voice slurs. He sounds groggy, like something is trying to creep up his throat to escape, not him. It scares you. You refuse to look at him.

"I have to clean the wound before it gets infected," you say nonchalantly.

With the little strength he has left, Will reaches out his unbitten hand to catch yours. You stop your movements in disbelief of his actions, tears brimming in your eyes as you try to save his life, but he stops you again. You both know what's inevitable, you just can't accept it.

"Wil-" you try to pull out of his grasp. You reach out to touch his wrist again this time, he is the one who pulls away.

"Look at me," he pleads. You can't bring yourself to shift your eyes to his, knowing this was inevitable. You had to try. He had to let you try.

"just stop."

Wil tries to grab the items from your hands, but you move too quickly for his shrinking reflexes to keep up. Moving beginning to be too strenuous.

"I can't- Wil-" You struggle to fight against him, too scared to hurt him. Though he's already dying.

"Stop, honey..." he quivers.

"Just let me save you!" you cry. It echoes through the room. The air is tense, and you finally meet his eyes. His skin is sickly pale, eyes bright with red veins and glossy. Purple hues outline under his soft doe eyes as they peer into yours. He fists the hem of your shirt, inviting you closer. Your breaths mix together as he presses his forehead to yours.

The words hang between you, but you bite your tongue. You want to tell him how much you want him to stay and not give up. Deep down, you already know it's not enough.

"It's too late for me darling, leave me here.”

“I'm not leaving you,” you say sternly, shaking your head.

You were determined to stay with him, no matter how difficult things got, you were unwilling to abandon him.

“Please, I don’t want you to see me turn into a monster.” his voice wavered. Your heart sank. No matter what, he would always be your Wil. Sweet, caring, and lovable Wil. Whom you adored with every fiber of your being.

You reach up to cup his face with your hands, but they feel cool against your clammy skin. His cheekbones are slowly becoming more prominent. You stare into his eyes, but the urge to tell him to be quiet becomes harder as anger festers in your chest. However, it's not anger towards him, but rather frustration towards the universe.

Instead, you snuggle up next to him to demonstrate your lack of fear and your trust in him. You want to be by his side and provide comfort. You understand that it's unrealistic to expect him to recover from this infection given his history of being sick and having a weakened immune system. It's best to accept the inevitable outcome.

It's unclear how much time has passed while the two of you remain in that position. His arm securely around your shoulder holding you close, with your arm laid across his lap where your fingers provided soft circles against his hip bone. The room grows darker as the sun sets. The air feels eerie yet comforting all at once with Wil by your side. Nothing but the sounds of his raspy breathing and occasional coughing fit to surround you. He whispers through the dark against the crown of your head with horse words. Sweet nothings, promises that make you curl into him further so he can't see the single tear you shed.

He lifts his hand to gently cup your cheek, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Selfishly, he leans in for a soft kiss. You whine at the metallic taste in his mouth when he groans to part his lips so his tongue finds yours. It makes your head spin like a top how this man makes you feel. His lips are chapped, rough, and fast as he indulges in you for maybe the last time. You gasp and reach up to tangle your fingers in his locks to reel him closer to you. His hand finds the underside of your thigh, digging into your flesh. The mere touch of his hand sets your body ablaze and sends shivers down your spine.

It's frantic and passionate, your love for him shown physically. When you disconnect, suddenly remember you need to breathe. his eyes are hazy and his pupils are blown. You are sure you look like a flustered mess.

"I love you," he says sincerely, and you believe him.

It stings in your chest, you can't stand it.

"I love you more," you reply.

You tuck yourself into his neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and outdoors, and it's calming. Wil rests his head on the crown of your head. You neglect how his breathing has slowed as you drift off to sleep.

-

The next time you open your eyes, the sun peeks through the window, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. Your bones crack when you sit up to stretch from sleeping in the same position all night. You knew you'd regret it later when you had back pain for days. You turn to Wil, who doesn't stir when you move. Your heart dropped when you noticed something different about him.

Around his eyes were a darker color than the previous night. His cheekbones were completely sunken in where you could almost see the bone. his lips were a blueish color and his chest was rising and falling.

This was your fault. You should have stayed awake.

Tears streamed down your face as you called out his name, gently shaking his body, but he didn't respond.

"Wil!" you wailed, begging for him to come back.

You slumped forward, cradling him against your chest, pressing kisses to his temple, and muttering apologies against his cold skin. You felt your heart break as you realized he was gone, and tears rolled down your face as you held him close to you. You felt a deep emptiness settle in your heart. You knew you would never fill the void his death had left. You sobbed, gripping him tighter, and whispered your final goodbye. You held him close, cherishing holding home one last time. Knowing that you would never be the same again.

You're too distraught to move. You don't want to leave him here, but you don't have any other choice. The urge to keep on and survive was slowly fading now that you had no one left in this cruel world.

Wil felt heavy in your arms to the point where your arms were falling asleep, but you refused to let go. If you were to leave now, you may be tempted to never return to the person you once were. Allow your sorrow to consume you. The one good thing left in your life was gone.

You suddenly felt hands grab your lower back, causing you to yelp in surprise. Fingers gripe harshly at your skin through your clothes. Wil's chilled breath glides up your spine as he lets out a deep groan against your collarbone. He was alive? How?

His lips ghosted across your collarbone, pressing his nose directly into your pulse point. His hot breath fans across your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your body. Then, you feel his teeth nipping at your skin, and your eyes widen realizing his intentions.

You jerk away and shove him off you roughly. Crawling backward, quickly shuffling away from him, your heart pounding, until your back hits the opposite wall with a thump. You wince in pain from the impact and notice Wil gradually beginning to crawl toward you. A fixed gaze over his sheer white eyes, almost glowing like moonbeams. Chills ran down your spine as you gazed at your former lover, unrecognizable.

You froze as he approached, shrinking in on yourself. His body lazily dragged itself across the wooden floor, scrapping and groaning with every floorboard. Once he was close enough, his hand unexpectedly reached to grasp your ankle, and you screamed in fear. Nails harshly dig into your skin and create recent moon shapes that make you cry out.

He yanked you with a surprising strength until you were laid beneath him, overbearing you. You are powerless as Wil, or not Wil's body leaned over you and cadged you with his arms. Tears flow from the corners of your eyes and into your ears as his face inches towards you.

"Please," you whisper. Again, he tilts his head in curiosity at you.

"William?" Your eyes bore into his, trying to find some trace of life left in them. You observe his eyes returning to their natural color and a look of terror crossing his face as he regains consciousness. He staggers back and moves away from you frantically, clutching his chest and struggling to breathe.

You both sit on opposite sides of the room against the wall, he stares into the floor burning holes into the wood, avoiding your eyes. You just blink blankly at him in shock, knees tucked against your chest again.

Wil cradled his skull, clutching fist fulls of his hair, squeezing his eyes shut, and heaving breaths of panic puffed out his mouth. Mumbles of "I'm sorry," repeated like a mantra over, and over out shakily.

You let out an unsteady breath, His eyes quickly flicked over to you and fear flooded your senses once again.

"Darling?" he tries, his voice hoarse. He moves towards the center of the room, positioning himself a safe distance from you. “I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me..." his voice trails off.

He noticed your tense reaction upon watching him inch closer to you, and it broke his heart to see you trembling in fear due to his prior actions. He could never forgive himself for causing you such distress.

"is it really you?" you asked.

"I don't know," he says honestly. "I don't feel like myself, It's like I'm trying to grab hold of a stearing wheel and fight for control right now."

Your heart sank at his words. You let them maul over in your head for a moment. It sounded like your Wil, but you hesitated in reaching out to him. So, was he alive? He didn't look it, his skin was still deathly pale and almost decayed. Nose now dripping with dried blood that ran down his lips.

His head hangs low as he silently sobs. He didn’t want this. Now he was dead and was leaving you to defend yourself. He swore he would always protect you and he’s failed. He knows its selfish to ask you to stay with him, you should just leave him here to rot. Still, he begs you.

“Please, darling dont leave me,” You shake your head and crawl towards him. He might be an undead zombie now, but you still loved him more than anything else is this life. You would do anything for him. You take his face in your hands to tilt his head up but he avoids your eyes. “look at me,” his eyes shift to yours.

“I wanna help you baby, and im sure as hell not gonna leave you, not now, not ever.” you proclaim. “So don’t you dare ever try and push me away, because im staying. No matter how complicated things get.”

You bring yourself to kiss his forehead, your warm lips making him sigh out from the touch. He holds you for what feels like hours. Eventually you both know you’ll have to leave this abandoned apartment, whether you run out of food or more zombies show up. move on, then figure things out. Whatever it takes you would stay together, no matter what.

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @starsyoubreaklikesugardust @drop-of-void

[fatuismooches]

*kicks door open*

Saw that Dottore post talking in a different language in the middle of class. It will NOT stop me for brain rotting.

God he'd say everything and anything he wants to tell you in the language that attracts you the most and he'd laugh affectionately when you glate at him with a red face. He'd be SO teasing about it, calling you pet names you don't know the meaning of but he says it so sweet and tender that it makes ur heart beat so fast,, you'd see him leaving notes to you with lines of what it seems to be a poem and you dont understand at all, and the segments do it to you as well like!!! CMON 😭😭

They refuse to help you study the language bc it's not a collective thing they do and they all use so many different languages it makes ur head spin

IM IN SHAMBLES MOOCHES... THAT ANON GOT ME ON A FRENZY OF IDEAS IM CRYING GFAHGHGDHGRSAAGGHHHH

But imagine making ur own language just to level with dottore???? After learning it and developing it n becoming fluent, you burned all ur notes and documents of your own language and u watch him and the segments fume when you talk to him in a language he has never heard of

(Now imagine talking to a fellow harbinger with the said language, teaching them to further egg on him 🤭🤭🤭)

HCHKCHDOEHFOSIW this is kaiser and it's time for me to EXPLODE 💥💥💥

AHHUDWDWD THIS IS SO SO CUTE. IM BRAINROTTING SOOO HARD BEFORE CLASS UGHHH I LOVE THESE IDEAS😭😭❤️ He would be SO relentless with teasing you, you would literally have to BEG him to return to speaking in your native language because he is a monster ugh 😒😤 You would have no idea what he's saying no matter how much you try and plead for him to tell you... you eventually hear certain words so many times you just associate them with a pet name that you still have no clue as to what it is. You HATE how much he has you wrapped around his finger and blushing but you also love it because who doesn't love when the Doctor is so outwardly affectionate to you 😔❤️ tHE POEMS BRO. THE POEMS. I think he's also very bad at written affection but since it's in another language he has creative freedom 😭 you'll never know the disgusting sappy things he'll write. The clones being in on it is the funniest part lmao you thought they would be on your side 😭😭💔

oh MY GOD THOUGH READER MAKING THEIR OWN LANGUAGE IS MY FAVORITEEE PART!!!! I love when reader tries to one-up Dottore, like, two can play at that game honey, i'm not your lover for no reason 🤭 LMAO i can just imagine reader grinding out their language verbally and written, day and night, just to spite Dottore and make him feel what you feel >:)

The look on their faces would be PRICELESS. Dottore would ask you to repeat what you said and you would, happily, and then walk away as if what you said is everyday language... they would be scrambling to figure out what is going onnnnn 😭 HELP YESSS Pantalone, Bina, and Childe are the best candidates 🤭 He would be so annoyed at seeing you communicate with these three so jollying... ehehe also teaching his child clone the language too, because the baby would never betray you either and would stick his tongue out at the bribing of other clones.

DEEP BREATHES KAI DONT EXPLODE- 😭

[caixxa]

🤩 , 💖 , 🥳, 😍, and 💪 please :]] love you!

🤩 What's your favorite fic you posted this year?

Summer Kisses!

💖 Was there a comment or another piece of feedback that made you feel all the warm and fuzzies?

I answered twice that all comments because they just matter so much. But I feel like I should mention at least some of the moments of feedback that made me feel a deeper sense of appreciation and gratitude beyond the initial rush of warm fuzzies

Ibarbourou @la-cruz-del-sur reading through money shot and writing long, insightful reviews chapter by chapter. In addition, continuing to do so with Summer Kisses, and always being there to have in-depth conversations about writing, sex, life, fandom, porn, politics, rpf ethics... what's remarkable is that she doesn't even watch hockey, she's a phenomenal Argentine football rpf writer who concentrates on South American football culture(s). Going out of her way to analyze my stuff is a huge token of friendship.

@unmetroeduntappo has read all my new works for years and has so many times been the first to comment. A regular sight in my inbox to ask about fic, this kind of loyal continuous support is more than anyone can deserve. I can't even question her taste in case i wanted to fall down a spiral of self-doubt. Being a Kalle Rovanperä fan is a sign of impeccable taste. (Also, go read J! (jump (caution!) for a warm fuzzy mix of rally and my hockey otp)

You 👉👆👈 giving so much love to my burky/evil!bedsy nastiness on windsor knot and linking it on your phenomenally hot crack your knuckles in my mouth! Thank you for the traffic 🥰

🥳 What writing accomplishment made you most proud?

That @aleksrothis liked ingénue! It's so nice to manage to write a gift that pleases the recipient.

😍 What's one of your favorite lines or exchanges you wrote this year?

I liked the amount of ensemble feels and plot that I wrote as a lead-up to the kinky winner's room dubcon in Ruby Room (dirty floors and sticky tables), mostly as dialogue. This one is with Justin Williams.

Justin Williams looks fondly over the table, watching Sebastian digging into his food like he had been starving for days.

“Gotta say, I miss the playoffs,” Justin says.

Sebastian glances up from his plate and shoots him a feisty eyeful, tilting one corner of his lips to a lopsided smirk.

“Do you mean that you want me to say that I miss you in the playoffs? Well, I do. I miss you in the playoffs.”

“The A on your sweater looked very fine.”

“Are you trying to get me to say that the C on yours always looked even better?”

Justin chuckles.

“Man you’re snarky today, Sebastian. Is something wrong?”

💪What ship gave you the most brainrot this year?

Define brainrot?? If writing a lot of fic for a ship gives you brainrot it would be pekka/juuse BUT they've written themselves pretty neatly and left my head clean without extending their rent-free stay.

Maybe it's the ships that I turn around and around in my head as vibes and disjointed images, ideas and fractions of scenes, watching them from every angle but never trying to pin them down as words? Talk about sepe and his Daddy Dom candidates. Rod. (Aight I've written them a lot but there could have been more). Jordo. Nnhhhgh Brent Burns 🔥 And any +combination of those. I keep hurting myself and yes, rotting my brain. (Want examples? I've got examples just ask)

--

Thank you for the ask and the opportunity to end up degrading everyone's dash when I end up rambling filth. I love you 😘

[catgirlforkaeya]

my kaeya brain rot is strong rn he's revolving in my mind like a rotisserie chicken at this point. Anyways, spare reverse comfort for our boy? in those fics it's often the character comforting us rather than the other way around. I wanna tenderly hold kaeya as he cries I want to kiss him and wipe his tears <3 I want to take care of him I wanna make him feel better <3333 why did god have to make him fictional?

it’s going to be okay.

kaeya x gn!reader

hurt/comfort + little bit of fluff at the end

1.7k words

warnings: all lowercase + not proofread + mentions of blood and injury + small spoilers for kaeya’s backstory + mental health struggles

a/n: aaahhsjkjslaak i love this idea sm anon :,) the kaeya brainrot has been severe lately and the thought of comforting him just makes me honestly happy because the poor guy needs it :( i haven’t written something this long in a really long time so i hope it pleases your wishes!

you were woken up abruptly in the middle of the night by a knocking at your door. looking at the small clock beside your bed stand you read the time: “2:36am”

“who on earth is at my door at this hour??” you muttered quietly, slipping out from under the covers and making your way to the front door. you knew you should’ve probably put on a robe since all you had on was a long t-shirt and shorts that looked nonexistent under the shirt, but you were too tired to care.

upon opening the door you were beyond shocked at what you saw.

in front of you stood kaeya, your lifelong friend and also boyfriend, covered in cuts and bruises leaning against your doorframe. you also noted that he was soaking wet and most likely freezing from the torrential rain that mondstadt had been having lately.

“i didn’t- i didn’t know where else to go,” he muttered out between breaths. you looked down and noticed he was holding the left side of his abdomen, blood spilling between his fingers caught your eye. you quickly pulled him inside, closing the door with your foot.

you ushered kaeya over to your couch, grabbing a random dish towel to try and stop the bleeding while you went to grab some supplies. you told your boyfriend to apply pressure onto the wound the best he could with the towel. after that you jogged to your bathroom, pulling a first aid kit out from under the sink. you knew this kit would come in handy someday.

returning to the living room, you kneeled down in front of kaeya and slowly removed the towel from the wound to try and see what you were working with. the cloth was already soaked in blood, which was never a good sign. you told him to keep holding it there for another minute. it was hard to do anything with all the layers of clothing he had on, so you quickly but carefully stripped off his jacket and undershirt. usually in a situation like this kaeya would make a scandalous joke, but he remained silent which told you he was seriously in pain.

once kaeya no longer had a top on you focused back onto the stab wound. reaching for the pack of gauze on the ground next to your legs, you quickly replaced the blood soaked towel with a fresh bunch of gauze. kaeya winced under your touch as you applied more pressure, causing your heart to ache. you hated seeing him like this so you were doing your best to get the bleeding to stop as fast as possible. moments like this you wished you’d been blessed by healing powers like barbara and not this blasted hydro vision.

looking up at the rest of his bare torso you noticed multiple other slices on his body, but those all looked like they were barely flesh wounds and weren’t bleeding as badly as the one to his abdomen. you had so many questions running through your brain— what the hell had happened??

after a few minutes along with slight prayers to the gods under your breath, the bleeding finally calmed down and you were able to remove the gauze. next you grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and poured it onto a new gauze.

“this is going to hurt like hell but i’ve gotta clean the wound, okay?” your gaze flicked up towards kaeya. he had his forearm resting across his eyes, head leaned back up towards the ceiling.

“okay,” kaeya sighed in response. you could hear the exhaustion and pain in his voice. once you found out what happened you were going to hunt down the bastard who did it and give them a beating they’d never forget.

with a small countdown as a warning, you ran the disinfectant-soaked gauze across the wound. kaeya sucked in a quick breath through his teeth, before exhaling slowly. you whispered about half a dozen apologizes as you continued to flush the wound out, making sure there was no way for any infection to form.

once that was all finished you got another wad of gauze, putting it back onto the wound. then, you grabbed a bundle of medical wrap to use to secure the packing. after you spun the wrap around his torso a few times you checked to make sure it wasn’t too awfully tight before securing it completely.

afterwards you quickly walked to your kitchen, washing your hands before grabbing a few painkillers and a glass of water. you brought it back to the living room with you as you sat down next to kaeya.

“here, these will hopefully help take the pain away for a little bit. they’re not the strongest in the world but y’know,” you handed him the pills and glass, watching as he popped them into his mouth and flushed them down with water.

you two sat there in silence for what felt like hours. many questions hung in the air and it was making the air almost suffocating. you had no clue how kaeya would have ever ended up in a situation like this— the last and only other time he showed up at your doorstep like this was the night that crepus died. he’d came to you that night after the fight with his brother, tears spilling from his eyes as you helped patch those wounds. for a moment your eyes flicked down to the burn marks on his ribcage, wrapping around to his back.

gently, you intertwined your fingers with kaeya’s. he looked down at your connected hands, then looked up at you.

“tell me what happened,” you spoke softly, afraid if you were too loud he’d break. you could see just in his one visible eye that he was on the verge of breaking. “please.”

with a long pause, kaeya finally began explaining.

“treasure hoarders. i was supposed to be doing a mission, but i accidentally pissed some off at the tavern and didn’t realize they’d followed me out. next thing i know i’m getting ambushed, didn’t even realize the knife through my abdomen until they’d left,” he stopped for a brief moment before continuing again, “i know i should’ve went to the cathedral and got checked out by the nurses there, but i just couldn’t. i didn’t feel like getting scolded by jean for getting drunk on a mission and possibly even get in worse trouble. i knew you’d also scold me. i also knew that i could trust you with this, since…”

“… we’ve been here before,” you finished his sentence as he began to trail off.

“yeah..” he gulped, looking down at the floor. “i’m- sorry for disturbing you tonight. it’s ok if you’re frustrated i just-“

“i’m not upset with you,” you cut him off, squeezing his hand gently so he’d look back up at you. “i’m just glad you’re alright. i couldn’t even bring myself to be mad at you over this, you know i’d do anything for you. even if that meant becoming a doctor at almost 3 in the morning. just please know i’m here for you, i can tell you’re struggling with something and i’m willing to listen whenever you’re willing to talk.”

with those last few words kaeya completely broke down. you were quick to wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug. you rubbed small comforting circles into his back as he cried into your shoulder. your heart broke while listening to the cries that came from his mouth. as much as you wanted to say something, you figured it was best to just let him cry it out for now.

“i’m just so fucking tired with everything right now,” kaeya mumbled into the crook of your neck between cries.

“what do you mean?“ you knew damn well what he meant, but this was your way of getting him to talk instead of bottling it up and tossing it away. playing dumb so that he’d have to explain was one of the only ways to get him to actually open up.

“i- i have no motivation for anything anymore.. going to work and doing my duties there feels more like a chore than anything now. i’m sick of having to put on a façade every single day and pretend that i’m happy in order to please the public when in reality i’m being pulled back under by an anchor,” kaeya’s voice cracked once again, more tears threatening to spill from his eyes. although everything was muffled since he had his head buried, you could hear it all clear enough. “… i get no sleep anymore because every time i close my eyes i see demons of my past lurking everywhere. i’ve went back to drinking because that’s the only way for me to not feel all of this— and that’s why i ended up bleeding at your doorstep.”

you felt tears of your own threatening to spill at his words. although you and kaeya have both dealt with a majority of each other’s issues together, every time he opens up to you you can’t help but want to cry for him.

“kaeya- look at me,” you whispered softly, hoping it was loud enough to hear. he slowly pulled back and faced you, his one exposed eye all puffy and red from crying. “you’re going to get through this, okay? i’m so terribly sorry that all of this is happening and i should’ve caught on sooner but i’m here for you. i promise. you know i don’t break promises, especially to you. i love you so, so much and i won’t leave your side at all,” you reached up to cup his wet cheeks, brushing away tears with your thumbs.

“thank you,” kaeya leaned into your touch, giving you a sad smile. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you don’t have to tha-“ you were cut off by kaeya leaning in and igniting a soft kiss between the two of you. you moved your hands from his cheeks to running your fingers through his hair. you felt as his hands slowly wandered down until they found your hips, stopping there and squeezing then gently.

“i love you so much,” he whispered between kisses.

“i love you more,” you responded, pulling away from the kiss and wiped more tears off of his face. you leaned in again and gave a few kisses to his cheeks, almost like you were “kissing the tears away.”

“it’s going to be okay,” you reassured, pulling your boyfriend back into another hug. he tightened his grip on you this time, like if he were to let go you were going to slip away.

“it’s going to be okay.”

[simstationdance]

top 5 sims worlds (mostly just sims 2 and 3 worlds)

(no one tagged me i just felt like doing it. i love rambling)

speaking of tagging - i tag everyone who reads this post sorry no takebacks (and by that i mean idk who to tag so do it if you want to)

1. strangetown

it’s not even a contest for me at this point. strangetown is the best neighborhood and i refuse to take any criticism on this. i could quite literally talk about the neighborhood and the sims for hours. in fact, i actually do talk about strangetown for hours to my poor, very patient friends who do not even play the sims 2 but let me talk about it to them anyway. i have ... also written character analysis. about strangetown premades.... maybe i’ll post it someday idk

the funny thing about strangetown for me is that i used to dislike it quite a bit when i was a kid - i think it was the alien pregnancy thing that put me off. and i (foolishly) thought the characters in it were boring. obviously that’s not the case Anymore, but it’s genuinely wild to me just how much my opinion on the whole hood changed after my first actual playthrough of strangetown gave me terminal brainrot.

anyway strangetown good :)

2. pleasantview

pleasantview was my #1 favorite when i was a tiny child, mostly because i liked causing chaos for the pleasant family... and everyone else in town tbh. i was definitely not kind to my sims as a child lol

i don’t really play pleasantview much Anymore (because strangetown has my whole brain in a fucking vice grip) but i do kinda really like the soap opera vibe. you could say it’s the most ‘old hat’ out of all the ts2 neighborhoods but the possibilities for drama never get old for me.

i stan both angela and lilith pleasant.

3. sunset valley

ok so, you know how i said i was not kind to my sims as a child?

i will confess that i like sunset valley for weird reasons, mostly all the sim torture i used to do (average stuff like locking people in a room with fireplaces or walling off the pool etc :/ ). it’s a nice neighborhood, but when i played it, i sometimes deliberately made it a pretty unpleasant place to live. and since i haven’t played the sims 3 in maybe ~5 years or more, i’m honestly kinda nostalgic for it now.

i also used to run “psychological experiments” on sims in the sims 3 as if they were human-shaped digital lab rats. you know, just to see what would happen. and sunset valley, being the base game neighborhood, was my first (and for a while, my only) evil playground of choice.

it was also just a really nice neighborhood though. and seeing mortimer and bella as kids was cute i guess.

4. appaloosa plains

i used to play a legacy in appaloosa plains that went on for years, and the nraas story progression & my other mods made it rival pleasantview in terms of interpersonal neighborhood-wide drama. just a lot of soap opera type shit like couples breaking up left and right, lots of cheating, unexpected pregnancy, etc. since my memory is awful there’s not much else to say about it.

however i do remember one of my sims, left to the whims of story progression after moving out of the main house, kept impregnating random women to cheat death by old age, and i kept getting notifications about it like “the grim reaper has decided to let this sim live another day to greet their new baby” or whatever, and while i thought it was very funny i was also like “JUST DIE ALREADY, GOD DAMN”

5. riverblossom hills

i really liked this neighborhood as a kid, though it was mostly my own sims while i left everyone else to rot in the sims 2′s eternally frozen time vortex. i don’t really play it at all these days but i am kinda nostalgic for it.

(bonus) 6. strangerville

listen. hear me out. back when the sims 4 was about to come out i looked at the style of the sims 4 and i got serious sims 2 vibes, But It Wasn’t As Good. when strangerville trailers started to drop tho, i got those Sims 2 vibes all over again. But It Wasn’t As Good.

so like, i really did like the idea of strangerville. i like the concept. i see what they were going for and i dig it. the execution isn’t that good but it could’ve been better. i liked following a narrative but after the first time going through it it gets stale pretty much immediately. also i wish they’d made any kind of serious, substantial connection to previously established Sims Lore like connecting it to strangetown somehow or that idea i see floating around where the plant should’ve been bella goth or w/e, but like What Can Ya Do. but i try not to think about what it Could Have Been because for what it was, strangerville was actually pretty good, at least imo. it’s definitely the most memorable sims 4 world to me at least.

also, erwin pries is my one and only sims 4 blorbo. legit the only sims 4 premade sim i can ever remember. idk why, i just really like the silly little nerd boy with his silly little colander hat and his silly little vest running his silly little roadside curio shop. i liked him so much that i ported him to sims 2 and gave him a backstory and put him in my strangetown that one time