#velvrose

HURT / COMFORT - ACCEPTING

@velvrose

“I think you’d better take a break.” crème brûlée for linzer!! gently pushes them together

"Let me finish writing this chapter THEN I will take a break, Crème Brûlée Cookie." Linzer spoke, her hair fizzled out, and scarp of papers lay scatter across the floor.

The Dusk Gloom Sea felt like a place that Abyss Monarch Cookie would be familiar with. Being it’s dark and comparing this part of the sea to the brightened lights of the Wandercrab that almost fully approached the line to the murky sea. Electric Eel along with Lobster Cookie decided to watch the giant mechanical crab as it worked on making a manual turn around before it ran into danger.

As Abyss Monarch demanded that they turn around before getting into deep trouble.

Sparks of purple and blue flew off the fin of the cookie, as he knew his role was… to light the way if things got too dark.

He doesn't know why he keeps visiting here.

Simple answer was it was probably the most quiet place in all the Underground. No monsters tend to come down all the way into the ruins, minus the old hag and she was simple to predict really. Came running down here once(sometimes twice) a day to make sure any humans fell down. So plenty of time by himself away from everyone....But no. That's not the reason.

They were dead, you idiot. They weren't coming back and it was all your fault.

So guess he was just hanging around Chara's grave today he supposed.

"...So uh...Hey Chara. Been a while! Sorry I been busy with trying to you know...Figure stuff out. I'm sure you would get it if you were here...Hell, you probably be finding out how to use some of this Reset powers better then I could! You were always were better with the ideas..."

"PLOTS PLEASE." always accepting.

I cannot believe this is how I find out you write Bixby oh my god?? But also hi hello I love and miss you so much!!!

I have so many ideas about them, so many thoughts (I am also always thinking about their episode) but here's a couple to get us started!!

I love, love, love the idea of an au where Bix lives and Morse ends up working with him in some capacity (either officially and he does go through with resigning - 'if I found someone... then all of this wouldn't matter at all' - or unofficially). Maybe he still gets shot and Morse feels responsible not catching Conrad sooner and takes some (more) time off to help him recover / keep an eye on him while the investigation is going on (taking the 'keeping me out of trouble in the main' seriously as some kind of bodyguard), or maybe something else regarding the Belvedere. Either way, I love the idea!!

I also am constantly thinking of my aus where Morse never winds up being a detective, where he ends up as either a musician, a poet, or both. I could very easily see them making an acquaintance that way, too; maybe Morse performs at the Belvedere or gets a gig at one of Joss' parties and the two of them strike up a friendship / fall in love??

...

@velvrose asked: “why do you have that look on your face?” also for tj and michael heyyyy // more random dialogue prompts

"LOOK? WHAT LOOK?" The way Michael abruptly snaps into reality upon T.J.'s question is difficult to miss, already doing him NO favors in the 'pretending absolutely nothing is wrong' department. As if he was doing well there at all— his arms have stayed crossed over his chest too long for someone who SHOULD be the most loud and brash of them all, and it would only take one glance downward for T.J. to notice the incessant tapping of his foot. Fuck, Michael, get a god damn grip already— he has been here for days, at least, he thinks... he has been BACK long enough to see his siblings again, to see T.J. again. Michael Afton has seen the preservation of souls, vengeful possessions, every way in which withering bodies can defy death... and yet he is here, witnessing the world go against every notion about each passing event he's ever had.

Michael Afton is back in 1983.

He checked the date once, twice, TWENTY times over, met with the same answer each time— the indescribable shock had gripped him for the first couple days in ways he can hardly describe. Rushing to the mirror brought skin and bone and heart and lungs catch every quick breath the longer Michael stared back at his unharmed, teenage body. He doesn't... feel very different, he doesn't think. Maybe he is fifteen, just with years worth of memories... ones of the future shoved into his head. But fuck, he remembers it well. Michael has been frozen in time for years now, his life cut short only in young adulthood yet still trudging onwards. Still, his chest constricts with panic atop years-long guilt as he scrambles to figure out what the hell to do.

there's something ironic about someone as cursed as puck being blessed by the same fates. a sick joke by the divine. his prayers had been long forgotten. so he answered his own, with bloodshed and shattered lives.

so why now of all times did an angel feel the need to grace him with their presence? it feels like a slap in the face. dull look meets with seraph, pucks expression unreadable. and that's not a good thing for someone like him. hes sitting against the alley wall, blood staining his hands and his clothes but he seems unhurt.