wilted roses and bloody thorns (mcyt fics and drabbles)
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revival is a tricky business. aligning all those dead parts, stringing soul bonds just tight enough on the finger. there's just so many connecting parts that a human soul and body touch. a botched revival is nothing more than a death sentence.
tommy winces as he coughs into his hand, distractedly wiping it on his pants, as he continues on his way home.
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this is just a prompt challenge for myself to encourage me to write, hopefully everyday! tags will be listed in the notes for each prompt, and the description will be updated with every prompt. these also aren't going to be edited, so they're not going to be great. please leave it alone, i don't like having to restrict or mod my comments but i will.
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day two: eager
Phil startles as more and more dirt washes from the kid's face and little, glowing freckles start shining on his skin. He hates to say it, but he panics and starts wiping the kids arm, where more glowing freckles start showing through and the kid giggles as he plays with the murky bubbles. He doesn't know how a Starborne ended up on the streets, instead of being cherished in the temple or by his guardian, but he worries what would happen when they find the temple the kid was supposed to be at.
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the blanket was warm around him. Tommy stared out through the window, watching the snow fall. the night was comfortable around them, a drastic difference from when he was with Dream.
Phil’s hand gently rested on his shoulder. “Welcome home, Tommy.”
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