“Xe’s hurting you!” snaps the hero “It’s not okay! You shouldn’t be working with [Villain]!”
“Haha,” says the vigilante tiredly “like you don’t? I’m everyone’s favourite chew-toy, friend. I’m the murky monster in the dark, and I’m good or bad depending on whats needed. Right now, the city needs a monster.”
The vigilante stretched lazily in the mouth of the alleyway, watching the rain catch the light from the storefronts. They heard someone land behind them, and didn’t bother turning. “Hello, Beacon.”
“Hey, Lancer.” Beacon put their hand on the vigilante’s shoulder.
Lancer winced, and shrugged it off. They went back to watching the rain.
Beacon hesitated. Lancer could hear the doubt in their voice. “You’re injured. Are you okay? No one’s seen you in a week, and we heard you were working with Dark Order.”
That was the real question. Not if they were okay, but if they’d switched sides. “You heard wrong,” Lancer said. “I’m working for Dark Order. And it’s a training injury, it’s fine.”
“They’re hurting you!” snapped the hero. “It’s not okay! You shouldn’t be working with them!”
The vigilante chuckled, then said tiredly, “Like you don’t? I’m everyone’s favorite chew toy, friend. I’m the murky monster in the dark, and I’m good or bad depending on what’s needed. Right now, the city needs a monster.”
“What do you mean, ‘Like we don’t?’ Lance, listen to yourself. You’re not a monster, and whatever Dark Order has done to you, we’ll figure it out. Come back to Headquarters. Before you do something you’ll regret.”
Lancer turned to face Dawn, and snarled, “No, you listen. Dark Order hasn’t done anything I haven’t agreed to. It’s no different than working for you, really – I go on patrol, make sure the local gangs toe the line. The only difference is that we get in more fights, we train harder, and that when I go too far, I’m more likely to catch a fist than a lecture.”
“That’s abuse-” Beacon said, reaching for Lancer again.
“But it hurts less,” Lancer spat, stepping back. “You have no idea how hard I tried to live up to your ideals. You make it look so easy – you have no idea what it was like to get chewed out for trying.” They sighed with frustration and said, “I am a monster, Beacon. A monster who saw the good you were doing, and decided that, maybe, if you were holding my leash, no one else would get hurt. If I was lucky, maybe I’d even do some good, too. But then you stood by when people needed you, and I knew I’d been lying to myself.”
For the first time in Lancer’s memory, Beacon was speechless.
“Dark Order isn’t a hero like you, but they don’t expect me to be, either. And they sure as hell don’t stand by while people die.” Lancer turned away, and stepped out of the alleyway. “Goodbye, Beacon.”
this is everything I’ve ever wanted from this prompt
The dragon was not quite as large as xe was expecting. Maybe barely thrice that of a horse- big enough to be big, small enough to be fast.
“I’m. Going to die.” xe says.
The dragon eyes xir, and opens its mouth to scream.
The fire came not from the breath of its mouth but in the beads of light dripping from its eyes.
“Ma. ma…” The serpentine creature uttered like a whisper, as if its maw had not felt the sensation of speaking.
“Easy there, boi” Xe let out these words like the wind from his diaphragm, arms spread open, the left towards its scaly forehead. His palm had come in contact with the gap between its eyes as it lowered its head, motions begging for comfort.
“That’s good. Come on,” Xe whispered. “Let’s get you home.”
AAAAAAAAhhhhh, by request of @corvidprompts , here is the “adorable zombie boyfriends” thing I wrote in 10 mins thanks to their lovely prompt!! I’m sorry this is shit!!
“What the actual fuck are you doing, Ryder?” Skid yells up at the tree. He watches the figure teeter precariously on the too-thin tree branch, worn tennis shoes with socked toes poking through pressed lackadaisically against the trunk.
“Bro, let me live,” Ryder yells down, lifting his head and twisting around to look at the young man on the ground. The sunlight hits Skid’s hair at just the right angle, making the black suddenly red and it’s quite nice, Ryder thinks. He grins as Skid throws open his arms in exasperation.
“You are literally a zombie, my guy. Get the hell down from there!” Skid screams to a pair of unapologetic ears 25 feet off the ground. Although, Ryder does have to admit that he makes a compelling point.
“Let me exist, then, asshole,” is the response that he yells back down.
“Happily. I would just prefer it if you existed on the ground right now.” Ryder scoffs and shifts against the branch, feeling it shiver unsettlingly under his weight. “Ryder, please.” Skid’s voice is no longer teasing, and the edge of worry digs itself in Ryder’s rotted gut. With a resigned sigh, he begins climbing down the trunk with as much ease as he ascended in the first place. He hears Skid sigh in relief.
When he finally plants his rickety feet firmly on the ground again, Skid places a blued hand on his shoulder and holds tightly.
“You’re being dumb and dramatic again, and it scares me,” Skid intones, carefully watching the other’s martially impartial face.
“You’re so cute when you worry about me,” Ryder remarks, hoping to deflect any conversation about the last three hours as long as he can. He’s honestly not sure the pain is worth it. Skid sighs, releasing his grip on Ryder’s shoulder and running his hand down along the collarbone, palm pressing against Ryder’s chest, over where his heart should be pumping blood.
“So, I’m always cute? Because I sure as hell worry about you all the time.” Giving Ryder a playful shove, he drops his hand further from his chest, choosing instead to tangle their cold fingers together.
“Mmm… you are pretty cute,” Ryder replies with a squeeze to Skid’s hand, pleased that his attempts at distraction seem to be working. With a devilish grin, he steps forward into his boyfriend’s personal space, breathing against his cheek. “The cutest.”
Skid rolls his eyes, a shit-eating grin forming on his frozen lips. “You’re disgusting.”
“We are both literally rotting undead corpses, dude,” Ryder quips back, barely finishing before Skid’s lips are pressed against his.
Despite being totally, completely, entirely dead–like heart-stoppingly, skin-peelingly, and blood-haltingly dead–the warmth that floods through Ryder’s body when Skid kisses him is a high that he finds himself hopeless against. It’s the closest thing he has found to simulate being alive again–breath-pumpingly and neuron-firingly alive. With a frozen hand pressing against the back of his neck, creeping into the edges of his hair, and his own hand pressing against the small of another person’s back, he can’t help but be convinced that this is the single best thing in existence, this moment and all that it stands for.
“Yeah, damn cute,” Ryder growls when he pulls back for breath. Skid grins at him, licking his lips with a death-blackened tongue.
“I’ll take it.”
this isn’t shit what are you talking about it’s adorable??
“I want to go home.” xe says to the monster, a thousand eyes focused on the quiver of xir fingers, the fear in xir posture. But xe wasn’t ready to die yet, so xe does not turn xir back, does not buckle under the bleeding wounds the monster has dealt, doesn’t stop, doesn’t give in. “I want to go home. Take me home.”
“You want a deal.”
“I want to go home.I want it to be over.”
Sidney took a step toward the massive, six-eyed raven. The massive spider – it spun a web of knives and spat acid, it was as Unreal as the raven – hissed from its perch on the rocks below.
“Send me home,” she demanded, standing as straight as she could with spider venom burning her leg. The raven didn’t know she had the jewel. This was her advantage, if she could just convince the raven to let her leave –
The raven’s head cocked to one side, studying her with ruby eyes. Sidney didn’t dare to breathe.
“No,” the raven decided, and one massive wing swept her off her feet and slammed her into the cliffs behind her. Her head smashed against the rock with a painful crack and she slid to the ground helplessly with stars dancing in her eyes.
Her ears were full of cotton, but she heard the raven nonetheless – “There are no deals for thieves.”
The spider feasted well.
don’t u know u can’t trick eldritch birbles. all of us get lie detector powers.
Aston quietly opened the door to the laboratory, Andie had said that was the completely wrong word for it, but it’s what everyone ended up calling it, and looked around the door before stealthily walking in. Blue lights reflected off of their skin and the metal breakfast tray they were holding as they walked through the rather large room. They turned a corner around some new robotic spider chair, probably for Quire, to find Andie fast asleep on aer desk.
“Mmm… evil? I guess, I mean there are a lot of bad things out there you know? But I’d say evil, like evil-evil, not just bad, uhm.”
“Yeah?”
“The indifference- or the enjoyment too, i guess- of the suffering of something or someone for your own gain. I’d say that’s evil-evil.”
Averill leaned against the metal beam in the center of the room. Xe bounced a ball, well, a wad of wound up medical gloves, against the closest wall. The contrast between the light purple and pale puke green was interesting, really made you think about the ambience of the room, really tied it all together.
Do you need a moment it whispers against your eardrums, the sound winding in a painful whistle. No, you respond, because this is your burden to bury and your quest to complete.
A small look into the past, of a memory almost forgotten.
Corvidprompts 