#XD thanks for the prompts!

[pidgydraws]

☕ alternate universe ☕ @jayvik-week - day 6

i'm a simple creature with simple needs~ so it's just cozy, modern AU for today <3 continued from - day 1 - day 2 - day3 - day 4 - day 5 - day 7 (day 7 tw: blood)

bonus: meljayvik chatlog for those of you powerful enough

[cool-thymus]

Doodle prompt: Obito tries to tend to Kakashi's small wound ;))))) but it's like approaching an angry dog??? a dragon ready to breathe electricity? a crockodile prepared to bite off his hand???

Obito is trying hard to be a good medic 🩹🚑

[theroseyhues]

And thats a wrap folks!! Happy day 30 and 31 of hermit-a-day-may to all who celebrate!

This has been a great month full of so much cool art. A huge thank you to Luna for organizing this event for the second year in a row. You do so much to make sure this happens and it is SO appreciated.

So, same time next year?

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump collab alt day - “I love you”

And here’s the last febuwhump fic (...on the 27 of March lol. what can I say, I get easily distracted).

This one was suggested by @webhead3345, and it’s really more hurt/comfort then anything, but after the last one some comfort is probably nice XD I hope you enjoy it!

And thanks to everyone who suggested characters/prompts for these! I appreciate you all so much <3

Today’s lovely art

Ao3 link

——————————————————————————————————

Having six kids could be a challenge sometimes, Malon was willing to admit.

It would be difficult enough normally, but with five of them having superpowers, two being adopted, and all of them rambunctious boys who sometimes forgot their house was on the small side... it could be a lot sometimes.

But Malon always did her best, and Time along with her. Even when it got overwhelming, even when they disagreed, even through the sleepless nights and stress and fear and countless other worries from essentially living underground, they both tried their hardest to raise their kids well, and keep them safe and happy. Malon could only hope they were succeeding.

Especially in regards to their two adopted boys.

Hyrule and Wild had both been through such awful things, both due to factors they couldn’t control. It wasn’t always obvious, and they were both so strong for their ages, but sometimes the scars that had been left on them both reared their ugly heads, and one or the both of them would fall apart for a bit.

Malon always tried to pay attention and help when one or the other of them was stuck in a bad period. She had plenty of practice with Wild, and usually knew how to comfort him, but Hyrule could be a bit of a mystery still. She was still figuring out what tended to set him off, how he acted when he was upset, how his reactions tended to differ from Wild’s, and most of all, how to help.

And at the moment, she was at a bit of a loss as to what to do.

Hyrule had been acting quieter then normal recently, fading to the background of the typical chaos his brothers brought with them. He mostly just nodded if someone asked him something, and seemed a little more distant, taking longer to respond to things, and keeping to himself.

Malon wouldn’t have worried too much about most of that, but then she noticed the shadowed circles appear under his eyes, ones that only seemed to get darker with every passing day. It soon became obvious Hyrule wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep with the way he began to stumble around, and Malon’s worry doubled.

And then Wild started to act in a similar way, unusually quiet and withdrawn, tired-looking and cranky, and that really got her worried.

Malon just wasn’t sure how to go about getting to the root of the problem. Wild and Hyrule were both tight-lipped when things bothered them, and got defensive if pushed, and Malon knew a direct confrontation could be disastrous. She’d tried some light prodding, but hadn’t been successful in the slightest.

She could guess what it was that was bothering the two of course, and had a pretty good idea of what it might be, but she also didn’t want to assume and end up making things worse. Time didn’t have any ideas either when she discussed the problem with him, but he’d been swamped at work lately, and was barely thinking straight.

So Malon was left to try and figure out the problem mostly by herself, her worry growing by the day.

It finally reached the point where it was affecting her own sleep, and Malon found herself startled awake late one night after a week had gone by from the start of her sons’ odd behavior, and found herself completely unable to fall back asleep.

Time was snoring softly beside her, and Malon laid there for a while, trying to let the sound lull her back to sleep. She didn’t have any luck though, her brain too full, her mind too awake. She finally sighed, getting nowhere, and carefully slipped out of bed and pulled on her bathrobe. She made sure not to disturb Time at all, then walked down to the kitchen to try making herself a cup of tea.

The kettle didn’t take long to heat, and Malon yawned as she set her tea to steeping, walking into the living room with it to sit and wait for it to finish.

Then stopped in her tracks, realizing she wasn’t alone.

Malon hadn’t noticed on her way in, but there were two odd lumps huddled on the couch, both quiet and still. She stepped closer to study them, and realized one was Hyrule, wrapped tight in a blanket and staring silently at the ground.

He wasn’t the only there either, but whoever it was beside him was bundled up so tightly that Malon had no idea who it even was.

She could certainly guess though.

Worry crested over her, and she set down her cup, walking forward and shuffling her feet just a little to make sure Hyrule heard her coming. He startled a little anyway when he noticed her, but didn’t shield or run, just went back to staring at the floor.

The lump next to him shifted a little, and Malon saw a strand of long blond hair fall free of the blanket.

“Hyrule? Wild?” she asked gently, and Hyrule swallowed, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. Wild didn’t move. “It’s awful late you two, what are you doing down here?”

Hyrule didn’t look at her.

“Sorry, it’s nothing,” he whispered.

“If it was nothing, you both wouldn’t be out here and not in your beds,” Malon gently pointed out, sitting down on the couch beside them both. “What’s eatin’ you?”

Hyrule kept looking at his feet, a few sniffles escaping him.

“I-I, we just can’t sleep,” he whispered, not meeting her eyes. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Malon asked gently. Hyrule gave her a tiny shrug. “Well... is there a particular reason you two can’t sleep?”

Hyrule went silent.

The lump at his side shifted, and Wild poked his head out, Hyrule moving so he was more tucked against his side then before.

“...bad dreams,” Wild whispered after a few minutes, voice shaky. “‘Rulie too.”

Malon’s heart sank.

“Both of you?” she asked worriedly, and Wild nodded, rubbing at the shadows under his eyes.

“Sorry,” Hyrule whispered even more quietly.

“Honey, you don’t need to apologize,” Malon said, and turned so she could meet his eyes. “Neither of you do, it’s okay. Do you want to talk about them?” she asked in a softer voice.

Wild shook his head, and Hyrule shrank down in his blanket.

“No.”

Worry prickled at her, but Malon nodded, and didn’t say anything for a moment, Hyrule still letting out an occasional sniffle. Wild shifted where he was curled up again, and somehow he and Hyrule ended up snuggled against Malon, Wild’s head in her lap, Hyrule’s resting on her arm.

A shuddering sigh escaped Wild, and Malon ran a hand over his head, fingers ghosting past his scars.

She let out a quiet sigh of her own, looking at them both. She’d finally gotten the answer to what was bothering them (and had been bothering them), but she felt no better knowing the reason.

The nightmares must have been especially bad as of late.

Malon adjusted Hyrule’s blanket, continuing to run her hand over Wild’s head. She dearly wished she she could take away what was troubling them both, and let them get a full night’s sleep for once, but unfortunately that wasn’t a power she possessed.

Malon wished it all the same though.

Hyrule sniffled again, and Malon shifted her arm so it was resting around him, loose enough he wouldn’t be nervous, but tight enough to offer comfort. He leaned into it, and Malon ran her hand over his hair as well.

“Mom?” Wild whispered after a bit, and Malon hummed questioningly. “Why’re you awake too?”

“Did we wake you up?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Malon shook her head.

“No sweetie, you didn’t. I just couldn’t sleep either,” she admitted, and Wild peered up at her, worry shining in his eyes.

“...was it cause of nightmares?” he asked softly, and Malon ran her hand over his head again.

“No, not tonight. But... sometimes I have them.”

“...What about?”

Malon sighed, thinking for a moment before she spoke. Wild and Hyrule certainly didn’t need to know everything about nightmares she’d had, especially the worst ones, but maybe a few details would help them feel better.

“Well... I worry about you boys, and your father. All sorts of things, really. And sometimes my dreams take my worries and just twist them up and make them worse then they really are. It’s hard,” she said gently, “to remember they’re not real sometimes.”

Her boys seemed to think about that for a minute, both staying quiet.

“...Mine’re like that,” Hyrule whispered. “With the mostly real things.”

“I never remember mine,” Wild admitted, voice still shaky. “Just... just how bad they were.”

“Oh boys,” Malon said softly, and Hyrule sniffled again, hiding his face in her arm.

She’d thought the ache in her chest couldn’t get any worse, but apparently it could, and Malon held both of them tighter, running a soothing hand across both their heads. Hyrule and Wild relaxed at the motion, and Malon kept it up, beginning to softly hum.

She couldn’t take her sons’ bad dreams away. And she couldn’t take away the memories that brought them on, and continued to plague them even afterwards. But she could comfort them now, let them know everything was okay and that they weren’t alone, no matter what their nightmares tried to tell them.

Not on my watch, she thought as she continued to hold them tight.

Wild and Hyrule’s eyes began to droop as she hummed her family’s song, and Malon watched as they both slowly nodded off, still snuggled tight against her.

After several minutes, both were soundly asleep, faces relaxed from the tension that had been there before. A part of Malon wanted to just stay here with them all night, but she knew her back wouldn’t like it if she slept upright on a couch, and they’d all be more comfortable in their own beds. So once she was sure they were both asleep, she shifted Wild and Hyrule around, careful not to wake them. Then Malon pulled them both up into her arms, standing and walking back to their rooms.

Despite her efforts not to jostle them, both Hyrule and Wild’s eyes blinked open as she moved, and they watched her walk up the stairs, barely awake.

“You can carry us both?” Wild murmured doubtfully, and Malon smiled as she easily reached the top of the stairs.

“Darlin’ I’ve lifted cows twice your size before, this is nothing.”

Hyrule giggled. “Really?”

“Really.”

Hyrule and Wild both let out sleepy giggles at that, and Hyrule set his head back against her shoulder, eyes slipping closed.

Malon dropped Wild off first, setting him down in his bed and attempting to fix his blankets. Somehow they’d gotten all tangled around and folded in on themselves, and it took her a moment to straighten them out enough to tuck Wild in.

“Goodnight hon. Sleep well,” she said softly.

“You too,” Wild mumbled sleepily, and curled up under his blankets.

Malon gave him a kiss, and noticed a furry head poking up from Twilight’s bed, blue eyes shining at her. She put a finger to her lips, then carried Hyrule out of the room, hearing pawsteps cross the floor after she was gone.

She brought Hyrule to the room he shared with Four and Wind, stepping lightly so as not to wake anyone. Malon set him down once she crossed the room to his end, and tucked him in like she’d done for Wild, adjusting his blankets around him, and fetching the stuffed rabbit he usually slept with that had fallen halfway under the bed.

Hyrule watched her sleepily the whole time, still clinging stubbornly to consciousness. Malon lingered a moment even after she finished getting him settled, running a hand over his head, and Hyrule relaxed into the touch.

“Goodnight honey,” she said softly as his eyes finally drifted shut, and she stood and began to walk out the door.

“...Mom?”

The whisper made her pause, and she looked back at Hyrule, his eyes open again.

“Yes sweetheart?”

Hyrule blinked sleepily, barely hanging on to wakefulness, but Malon heard his next whisper loud and clear.

“...Love you.”

Malon looked at him in astonishment, warmth blooming in her middle at the sound of the words from her son. She blinked back a bit of a sting in her eyes, then walked back over to Hyrule, smiling at him.

“I love you too honey,” she said softly, and kissed the top of his head. “Sleep well.”

Hyrule smiled back at her, and his eyes closed again, Malon knowing he was truly asleep this time.

She adjusted his blankets just a little more, then straightened and crept out of the room, back to her own bed. The anxiety and tightness that had been keeping her awake had finally settled, and her eyes felt heavy as she slipped back to where she and Time slept.

“...Everything alright?” Time whispered as she got back into bed, looking at her sleepily. “You’ve been gone a while, I was about to come looking for you."

Malon smiled as she got under the covers, and nestled up to Time with a sleepy sigh.

“Yes. Everything’s fine,” she replied, setting her head under his. “Nothing to worry about.”

And something to celebrate, she thought as she closed her eyes, Hyrule’s whisper still warming her heart.

[ladytauria]

27. "I'm pregnant" With DickTim (but perhaps both are very much cis and the person who said it is drunk or got hit on the head or idk)

it took me a sec to figure out what i wanted to do for this prompt; and then when i did, how to execute it, but. i had a lot of fun writing this prompt, lol. i hope you enjoy!

“I cannot believe the love of my life would betray me like this,” Dick says, pressing his hand to his heart, dramatics fueled by the way Tim’s eyes are dancing. “How could you, Timmy?” His voice wavers with suppressed mirth.

Tim bites back laughter. He’s unfairly pretty, wearing one of Dick’s old university tees over lounge pants; face flushed pink with both amusement and the wine they’d been drinking. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No— I was gonna spend the rest of my life with you! But you— I can’t recover from this.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, baby, but—” He blinks rapidly, wiping a non-existent tear from his eye. “It’s over.”

Tim clutches his hands over his chest. “You can’t leave me.” There’s a flash of something playful and wicked on his face before his eyes go wide and round. He steps forward, clutching at Dick’s arm with one hand, the other falling over his stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Dick chokes. “You’re—”

They stare at each other for a moment, and then—Dick’s not sure which of them cracks first, only that they fall into each other, both of them shaking with laughter as they sink to the floor.

Eventually, their mirth fades; giggles slowly coming to an end. Tim lets go of Dick’s arm so he can pull it around his shoulders, settling against Dick’s side. Dick slips his hand under Tim’s t-shirt, cupping his hip and stroking his skin with his thumb. Tim hums, resting his head on Dick’s shoulder, tipping back to look up at him.

“Love of your life, huh?” he whispers, stroking his fingers over Dick’s forearm.

Dick’s face warms. “I— Well.” Dick is an affectionate person, especially when they’re alone. There’s nothing he loves more than to wrap himself around Tim and remind him—physically, verbally—that he loves him. Call him a sap, a sentimental fool, he doesn’t care. But—hearing the joking phrase echoed back at him… it trips him up, a little.

Tim’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. It’s a soft, sweet smile, one reserved for Dick alone. It never fails to make him feel all gooey inside. “You’re the love of mine, too,” he murmurs, turning so he can smear a kiss on Dick’s neck.

Dick would swear his heart was doing quadruple somersaults in his chest. “Yeah?” His voice is almost embarrassingly breathless.

“Yeah,” he whispers, reaching up to stroke over Dick’s cheek.

Dick leans into it, then turns to kiss Tim’s palm. He lets the kiss linger for a moment. Then, he scoops Tim up, manhandling him into his lap; earning a startled intake of breath and then a surprised, pleased smile as Tim winds his arms around his neck. Dick cups his face, peppering kisses all over it, until Tim is shaking with giggles again.

Then he stops, nose against Tim’s cheek, lips at his jaw. “So… about that pregnancy,” he says, leadingly.

Tim huffs a laugh. “I can’t get pregnant, Dick. You know that.”

Dick sucks a kiss into his jaw, delighting in the sharp intake of breath that gets him. “I dunno, Timmy,” he murmurs. “Won’t know unless we try, will we?”

Tim grips his shoulder with one hand. The other tangles in his hair. “You— You know, you might be right. Might, uh. We might have to try a few times. Just to make sure.”

Dick’s hands slip under Tim’s borrowed t-shirt. “I vote we start now,” he says, trailing his mouth down Tim’s jaw.

Tim gasps again, fingers tightening in Dick’s hair. “Motion granted,” he says, and tugs Dick’s head back to capture his mouth in a searing kiss.

[ prompt list ]

Read it on AO3

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @jennycalendar for this ask meme: Major Arcana Tarot Prompts Jaheira + The Chariot (Control, willpower, success, action, determination) Ty for the prompt! <3 This one's a little stream of consciousness but I enjoyed writing it. c:

-----

He is alive.

The thought rings like a bell inside Jaheira’s head, a cold clear burst. He is alive. He is alive. He is alive.

She watches Minsc curl his battered body into itself on the floor of the sewers, pulling his arms underneath him, struggling for balance, for strength. His face is darkened with bruises from Hector’s fists, lined with the scores from her own wildshaped claws. His eyes are half-closed and his breathing labored; any sane man would collapse under the beating he has taken. 

But she knows him. Minsc will rise, and rise, and rise.

“He won’t stay down for long!” she cries out.

The relief in her is like a taste of madness, a snapping free of impossible tension. For months, she has traveled in curse-laden darkness chasing the Absolutists, but in truth she did not believe it could be for anything more than vengeance. Surely Minsc was dead long since, dead in that terrible hole he forced her to leave him in; there was nothing left to her but to see that those who killed her old friend might suffer for it.

She never dared to believe, until this moment, that she might be wrong.

He is alive. He is alive. He is alive. They have poisoned and stolen him but he can still be saved. 

She rounds on Hector, for a moment unheeding of the solicitousness in her own expression. Everything - dignity, decorum, self-control - falls away in favor of the precipitate need. They must not have him a moment longer. 

“Tell your illithid to protect him from the elder brain’s influence. Quickly!” she barks.

Hector nods, his fingers white-knuckling as he grips the Prism with both hands. A muscle works in his jaw and his eyes roll back in his head.

She looks down at Minsc, her pulse thumping in her temple like hammer blows. The muscles in his back are twitching with strain as he balances on knees and fists. 

She has fought at his side so many times, for so many years; she knows every line of him, every quirk of movement, with more detail than she has ever known anyone short of a lover. She knows the twist of weight that will bring him onto his feet, a slight favoring of the left knee over the right - not because of the scar wound on the outside of his thigh, but because he will pivot the great bulk of his weight and lash out a kick like a greathammer. 

And she knows the madness in his eyes, too. She has seen that flat blank rage sparked by a thousand righteous causes, rising to beat back evil at every turn. But here it is corrupted and wrong, turned against the good by the machinations of the evil. Turned against her.

“Hector!” she snaps.

Hector’s head jerks slightly. His eyes work violently under their lids and his breath hitches with a low groan of effort. Jaheira’s jaw tightens and her eyes go narrow as she realizes what is going on.

The illithid is fighting back. Of course it is. What use will it see in Minsc, a thrall already corrupted by the Absolute’s taint? What use will it see in saving him purely on the basis of her friendship? It is a brutal, cold, pragmatic thing, and it will rebel against such fickle sentimentality. It will try to convince Hector to leave Minsc behind, that he is worthless, dead mad weight.

But if Minsc is allowed to rise, he will keep fighting. And after everything - after the illithids and the shadowlands, after the road and the city, after the grief and the anger and the terrible lonely pain… she will be forced to kill him.

Everything in her rebels at the thought. No. Not here. Not ever. I will die myself first.

 “The mind flayer pours poison in your ear, I think.” Her voice is all of a sudden very slow and very cold.

Hector’s eyes open to slits and his fingers flex on the Prism’s surface. His head jerks in a slight nod. 

Minsc’s head lifts; he makes a wordless noise of rage and pain and Jaheira feels something twist and snap inside her heart. No, my friend. No, I will not leave you behind, illithid be damned. We will both die here in the heart of this cess-pit before I will turn my back on you again.

She meets Hector’s agitated gaze squarely, looking past his eyes to the monstrous creature battling inside his mind. “Tell it,” she growls, “I will tear the Prism from your grasp and throw it in the deepest lava pit I can find!” Her fists clench at her sides. “Long after our bones are dust and ash, the walls of its prison will still be burning!”

She means it, too. Perhaps in a moment, she will not, because of course it would be to doom everything… but as the words emerge from her, they are a statement of absolute fact, bitter determination from a woman who has been hurt too much.

Her voice lifts, echoing weirdly in the waterlogged sewer cavern. “NOW HELP MY FRIEND!”

Almost in time with her words, Minsc finally gains his feet and roars like an animal.

“Jaheira--” he bellows, towering over Hector’s slighter frame. “You KILLED HER!”

And they are the same in that moment, Jaheira and Minsc - two wounded creatures each ready to rend the world apart for the threat of the other’s death. They have lost so much and hurt so terribly, and they cannot bear it, not again, not again, not again--

“You are being dramatic,” she says softly, a hint of bitter humor in the words even in this moment of terrible strain. I am here, my friend. Whatever happens… I am here at your side. And her words catch him, draw him back a fraction of a step as he turns and looks at her with puzzlement poking through the rage.

Hector’s eyes open and his grip on the Prism loosens, and there’s a whipcrack of power through the air that even Jaheira, with no worm in her skull, can feel. Minsc’s head snaps backwards and he cries out, his dark eyes rolling to show the whites; staggering, he rocks back on his heels, clutching at his temple.

Relief floods through her, carrying with it a wave of exhaustion so deep it is almost painful. It’s over, she realizes. It’s over. The illithid gave in. The battle is won. He is alive, and he is safe.

She can see the moment where the terrible blankness fades from him, where her old friend looks out of his own eyes again. And so she’s able to laugh, just a little, when he turns and looks at her, the Stone Lord’s calm replaced with the befuddled good humor that she knows all too well.

“Jaheira?” he mumbles unsteadily. “I… do not understand.”

“Good.” She chuckles low in her throat and reaches out to rest a hand on his forearm, real and warm and solid as an oak. “That means you are back to your old ways.”

[bluecatwriter]

Oooo are you doing crossovers? Then how about Basil painting Dracula with a disconcerted face over how different it is turning out from his sitter

What an interesting prompt! (This is based on the idea that vampires can never accurately be painted.) 

[ID in Alt]

(I'm still taking art requests— feel free to drop an ask or comment with suggestions!)

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I'm so sorry to hear you were in an accident im glad you are alive and feeling okay again <3<3

I'd love to send you a lotura prompt, hopefully it lifts your spirits to be back on that sweet ship.

How about Lotor and Allura talking about weapons? (i.e. Like how Allura prefers a staff and Lotors sword designs (like the one he was first shown with) )

Hey, good to hear from you and thanks for your super kind note!! I'm doing a little better each day and am excited to get back to regular routines! While I was on hold over the phone about paperwork today, I managed to exercise my brain with the prompt you gave me! <3

Staff vs. Sword

Emperor Lotor leans against a wall, crossing his arms and quirking a slim, white eyebrow at the princess before him. “Surely, you jest with me,” he murmurs. “A staff again?”

Princess Allura beams, and she grabs her favorite staff from the blunted practice weapons with a solid grip, fingers tight. With a quick flick of her wrist, she spins it and sets the end solidly on the ground. “My bayard for Blue Lion also turns into a whip,” she says nonchalantly, “but that seems entirely unfair to use against you, as it produces an electric shock.”

“Ah, yes.” His eyes crinkle, his slit pupils dilating with softness. He adds dryly, “Because we do not already create enough sparks on the courts.”

She brushes back her long, thick braid and waggles her eyebrows. “You said it, not me.” And then she pokes his chest plate with the end of her staff. “Do tell me you’re not afraid of a second round after I defeated you.”

“And nearly caused an intergalactic incident,” he says, voice halted. “The training grounds are intended for practicing the art of combat—not the art of catching one’s opponent off-guard with a kiss.”  

With a giggle, Allura pulls the staff back, her Altean markings glowing a bright pink. “Yes, well, we Alteans have a saying that all’s fair in love and war. Now, pick your weapon, dear emperor, so that I may defeat you once more. And do choose something other than a sword this time—at least mix it up for me?”

Lotor eyes her before grabbing a blunted sword from the wall, inspecting its balance. His long fingers grip the hilt tightly. “A sword is the best extension of a warrior’s will,” he declares, raising his chin with a petulant chin. “It is simple. It is efficient. It is my favorite weapon.”

Allura sighs dramatically at him. “It does not have quite the—” she waves her hand—“the impact of a staff, though.”

He raises the silver sword to her. “The staff is an impact weapon,” he says dryly. “You simply seek to showcase your Altean strength to the Galra who prowl these courts, and that is why you prefer it as of late."

“Tish tosh,” she says, planting her feet properly on the training mat and eyeing him with an increased wariness. She knows Lotor likes to strike unexpectedly. “I also happen to like the way training robots crumple to bits beneath a staff. It relieves the stress I feel after a large conference with intergalactic leaders.”

A tick of silence stretches between them.

And then in a blur, Lotor races toward her, slashing down.

She blocks with the staff and swings, and he ducks smoothly before stepping back, flipping the sword in his hand.

He paces the mat, the overhead lights capturing the glow of his eyes like a predator in the dark wilderness. “Poor Princess Allura,” he teases. “All the power in the universe, and yet you fear the peace we have wrought together, instead longing for means of violence. Are you certain you are not of Galran blood somewhere in that long ancestry of yours?”

Alura’s voice strains as she circles him as well, resetting her staff. “I can’t think of a single species that doesn’t enjoy a rough tumble now and again, in a safe, non-war environment. Why, the humans even have something called, um—” Her concentration breaks as she pauses, snapping her fingers. “Um, wrestling. And something called rugby. And then they have a very large, worldwide competition for their various violent sports, called the Olympics.”

Lotor pauses.

His slit pupils widen in curiosity of other cultures. “Olympics? Is that similar to a Kral Zera?”

“Somewhat,” she nods, “but instead of choosing a world leader by, um, killing everyone, these tournaments are for medals that they wear around their necks and then bite in front of cameras. And no one dies generally.”

He lunges again, and in a blur, wrenches the staff away from her hands and presses her up against a wall.

Allura squeaks, eyes wide.

His nose is inches from her own, his breath a hot puff against her face. “How very curious.”  

Her breath stalls as her cheeks heat hard enough to radiate to him. “Um, y-yes.”

Lotor’s wide mouth splits as he whispers against her mouth, “Fortunately for you, princess, I’ve no intent to fight you truly, or you would already be dead with your silly staff. And if it were these Olympics, you would have no medal to bite.”

Face flushed, her eyes narrow to slits, and before Lotor can avoid it, she hooks her ankle against his and unbalances him. Surprised claws protract from his hands, gripping into her practice armor and his eyes widen.

And the two royals fall in a pile of limbs upon the mat, with Allura sprawled on top of a stunned Lotor, his sword clattering to the mat beside them.  

“Oh, no,” she says with a triumphant giggle, hands planted over his chest plate. Her curly flyaways are an angelic halo around her face. “You lowered your weapon but did not fully secure me, so I still win.”

Lotor grumps beneath her, his lavender cheeks flushing as he grips her forearms.

And despite Galra leadership watching the courts and murmuring with gossip in the far distance, Lotor softens. His rough, calloused thumbs stroke a pink marking along her bare forearm. “Best two out of three, then? I promise to secure you fully next time and cause another scandal for it.”

Allura leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Very well, Emperor Lotor. You’re on.”

[thedeafprophet]

(i don't know if you wanted one back but)

❥: barefoot, sleepy wanderings for jamie and a certain nightmare man? :-)

ah sure why not XD.

Prompt list from here

The wallpaper pulsed in time with their head as the The Author's shoulder met with the wall with a thud, their form buckling under the strain of illness. They pushed onward through the haze , to what end, they did not know.

A shakey hand reached out for support, as they forced themself upward and further through the room. The carpet was soft beneath their feet as they stumbled on, their slippers lonely and cold where they were forgotten by the bedside.

There was no worries of a chill in the room - even if they could feel beyond the fever, the hotel rarely let its guests grow cold. Not without reason, anyways.

They took a step forward.

And then another.

Further, and further yet - perhaps they would make it do the door after all.

Or perhaps not.

All at once, their support wavered, whatever rebuilt strength they had blowing away like a disregarded napkin on a windy day. They felt their knees buckle, and knew they were going to fall seconds before it happen. At least they would land somewhere soft.

They braced themself for the impact, and yet, it never came.

Instead of falling against the alluringly soft fabric of the floor, they found themself held up by the familiar feel of leather gloves.

"Now, where were you getting off to, hm?"

Jamie blinked up through their feverish gaze, The Manager's form seeming all the more blurry where he stood in front of them. The man chuckled as he moved them to a better standing position, taking the brunt of their weight as he did so, a strong arm wrapped around their waist.

"I-" It hurt their throat to speak, a fact so resented by one so attuned to words.

"Of course, heading right back to bed, weren't you? Seems you've gotten all turned around! But no matter, no matter, I am happy to help! That, i'm sure, you are familiar with."

That- that didn't seem right. They had been going somewhere else, hadn't they? They squinted up at him in confusion, their eyes meeting his. Returning to bed did seem rather appealing.

Of course, that had to be where they were intending to go. It felt like the most correct thing, to let themself be guided back to bed, a gentle hand pushing sweat slicked hair away from their forehead as they were settled back down. It must have been where they intended to go.

Where else was there to wander to, ill suited in the night?

[theunconcernedembalmer]

I may not be as active on the idv scene anymore but I miss seeing you and your Aesop on my dash oop. Glad to see you back fren :3

I missed being here XD thank u so much for the message beth!!

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

“I just write stuff” are we sure about that

I guess I do also draw now, don't I? 😅🖊️🖌️

[slashingdisneypasta]

You want old men thoughts?? Hmm.... Right now I can't think of much, but I'll give you the little things I got XD

- Imagine in the Norman and Inkubus imagine you made, it's actually Norman that gets you first. You two have an established relationship before Inkubus came along, and started trying to seduce you. You insist to Norman that this new guy is 'just a friend', but even blind he can see that this guy has no good intentions towards his little wife.

- Imagine that you were the one victim of the Fireflies that managed to escape, and now Otis is obsessed with 'finishing what he started' with you. At first, it was with the intention to kill, but he just can't stop thinking about you lately (I'm not sure how in character this is, but I hope you still enjoy it XD)

- Ok this isn't sexual, but imagine you and Jim share a bed together, and in the middle of the night, you at first feel your husband shaking. You look over your shoulder to see his still sleeping face, and it looks scared. Pained. And you hear him muttering... You know what he's dreaming about. It's the same dream he's had ever since that God forsaken poaching trip he went on that almost killed him.

It's not much, but I hope you enjoy these imagines! ^^

OLD MEN-

Norman Nordstrom x Reader x Inkubus-

I loveee this prompt XDD Its like:

Y/N: *Introducing their husband and their nice new friend 'Klaus'* And like I said Norm, we're just goin' to the shops for a bit. Norman, getting bad vibes off of this... 'Klaus': I don't want you goin anywhere with him. Y/N: ... :D *w h a t... * Y/N: *Eyeroll* Don't worry Norm!, I love you, Klaus is just a friend ^^ Inkubus, who has been quiet up until that moment.: ... excuse me I'm what-

OR

Y/N, explaining to Norman who's at the door (You're lovely new friend obviously XD ) and that you two are just going out shopping: Don't worry Norm!, I love you, Klaus is just a friend ^^ He doesn't have any weird intentions, don't be possessive. Norman: Hmm... I gues- Inkubus: *'Absentmindedly' tapping his foot on the porch outside- you cant hear it but Norman with his exceptional senses sure can. And why is it significant?... its Morse code for 'OH YES. I DO.' *

Otis B Driftwood x Reader-

Its totally in character!! I can absolutely see Otis being pissed and obsessing until, like, Baby mentions that she swears he has a crush~~ And he obviously curses at her and the fight because no way in hell does he have a fucken crush, but then when Baby skips off- he has an epiphany~ Like hm... (: Maybe I do have a thing on the slippery little fuck-cunt... Oh, heh heh, even better.

CUZ HE KNOWS, he KNOWS, being in a relationship with him is the worse sentence he could have ever dreamt up even on the purest of LSD.

Warnings; Capture, restraints, (Light) non-con touching/sexual assault and heavy allusions to rape. Just because I wrote this under your ask, does not mean you have to read it if you are uncomfortable. Technically all this can be sub-categorised under Otis' name, but I want to be clear XD My head goes to a darkkk place when I write Otis, okay? I'm sorry-

The old fucker's huge hand was tight over your mouth and nose as he leant in and grinned with dirty teeth at you. "... congrats, for what its worth. Its never taken me this long to find someone. Heheh, you're a good runner, gingerbread. Too bad you're not so good at hiding."

In responce you struggle once again against the restraints keeping you down on your knees; bare skin digging into the gravel parking lot beneath you. The tag ties around your wrists keep your arms stuck painfully behind your back as well as your ankles rubbing raw against each other.

"... lemme explain to you why you don't wanna fight me, alright?... " His hand squeezes you jaw, and you just wonder why he seems in such good spirits. The last time you saw him you were in the bed of a truck racing away from his crazy ass Texas chainsaw-style and he looked about ready to rip your throat out with his gross teeth. What changed? Why is he smiling, now? "... you see, uh... oh shit, I'm a little nervous!" there is not a single sign of nervousness in his eyes; Just a cruel amusement. "Okay, here we go- I like you." Immediately you try to struggle again but his other hand clamps around your arm and holds you still- and close. "Yeah. And well I usually don't take so well to, um... you know, little fucken bitches like you gettin' away... ehhhhh, I'm mellowing out in my old age, I guess. So! Here's the deal,

"I'll play nice. You know, I wont uh... hurt you, I guess. I promise, okay? Scouts honour, or whatever. But you... you gotta play nice too, k? You gotta... " Otis eyes flicker, moving purposefully from where they had been steadfast to yours for the past few minutes... down your body. The hand on your arm moves and ever so gently his knuckles graze against your chest. You jaw would drop if it wasn't restrained. You would shiver. You would hit him. With another creepy chuckle, Otis gives a grimy smirk to you. "You gotta be realll nice, to old Otis. Yeah?

"That's the only way yer gettin' outta this alive, sweet thing. Take it or leave it; its up to you. See? I'm nice!"

Jim Bickerman x Reader-

That's okay, it doesn't need to be sexual! We also love old men XD

We have had the comedy, we have had the horror... now we get the angst and the fluff XD Here we go-

You're slowly roused from sleep by the cold, Jim assumedly hogging the blanket (Though that's not a thing he does, he usually doesn't even care about the blanket) so you sit up turn your head to look down at him; And immediately you wince.

"Oh, no... "

With his good hand clamped over his own mouth and his skin looking pale, its obvious exactly what he's dreaming about. His eyebrows are furrowed in his sleep and the lines in his forehead and the bridge of his nose are deep, his breathing is haggard and you know it has to be a nightmare.

This has happened before, ever since that trip back to Blackwater you wish he hadn't taken, and every time seems even worse then the one before. And they change him; The bags under his eyes haven't ever been deeper then they are these days; at least not as long as you've known him.

The worst part is knowing you cant wake him up, you can just be useless there beside him wondering what he's seeing. What part of him the teeth are ripping apart this time. Whether he's getting out alive, this time.

Taking a deep breath yourself, you carefully peel his fingers off his mouth so he can breath properly, holding it tight in your own hand instead. And then you just sit there, in the dark (The only light in the room being what the moon creates, coming in through the window Jim broke a couple days ago.), squeezing his hand and hoping he'll wake up soon. That he'll wake up.

When finally he lurches up beside you, breathing heavily as he wakes up and crushing your fingers so hard his knuckles go white and so do yours, you just let him calm down on his own. Just hold his hand and try to give him space while not giving him space at all; wanting him to have room, but not wanting him to feel alone. You're right here and you're not going anywhere. You feel absolutely useless, but... you're not going anywhere.

A few heavy moments pass where he just breaths, and you just watch him with worry-filled eyes, until the pulse you can feel in his wrist returns to close-to-normal, and you give his hand one final, hard squeeze before letting it go. Instead you silently enfold enfold him in your arms, him immediately dissolving into you; wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your shoulder, slowly taking some more relaxed breaths.

"Heh... not a fan of those nightmares peanut but I gotta say I like the service I get afterwards."

"... are you okay?... "

"I'm fine." He always says he's fine, but fine would mean no more nightmares. Jim says that he's fine when he has shrapnel in his knuckles, Jim said he was fine the other day after he fell off the roof- you do not trust his fine, at all. Crazy bastard that he is; His 'fine' is completely without basis in reality.

"... you're fine?" You ask, an obviously-dubious look on your face as you lean back and tilt your head at him.

Jim smirks, something you can just see in the dim-lit room. "With my flask and possibly a little under-the-covers action sweetheart I could be better then fine." The smirk transforms into a whole grin and you cant help but roll your eyes; Grinning yourself a little, despite yourself.

He's nuts, but you kinda love him for it. "How about water, and some ice cream?"

Eyes hardening, Jim gives you a 'you cant fix my liver' kind of look. You're very familiar with it; It makes you want to laugh. "How about homebrew and ice cream?- and, also, where the hell are we gettin' this ice cream from missy?? I didn't think we had any more. Either you're makin' empty promises to an old cripple with ptsd or you've been holdin' out on me."

-oh damn. Quickly you let go of him and hop outta bed. "... uh... well no we dont have ice cream... not that you know of, anyway." Avoiding eye contact, you busy yourself collecting the half-empty cups of water off of both of your night stands. "So you- uh- wanted moonshine?? Great, sounds fantastic, lets go- "

He's not to be deterred, an amused glint in his eye as he watches you. "Where are you keeping this ice cream, dumpling? I know theirs none in our freezer."

"Uhhhm... "

"Hmm?"

"... fine I have a secret mini freezer in the back. You kept stealing my Ben & Jerries, I had no other choice! Now, do you want some or not? Because if not, I'll just go eat it myself!" With that, you grab a discarded flannel off the floor for the chill and rush out of the bedroom- but its not long before you hear the sound of his prosthetic leg hit the ground.

... Its not long later after that when Jim has you backed up against the cold brick wall just outside the back door; Leant in close and with one hand and one hook on your waist. As well as a devils look in his eye that makes you grin under its scrutiny.

"I believe we made a vow, sweetheart, somethin' like what's mine is yours??... "

[ladytauria]

The prompt list. Listen. I think Jason deserves a kiss to the thigh. Whoever you want to give it to him

nonny you are SO right

i went with jaytim bc i'm predictable like that~

Tim challenges anyone to find a more comfortable pillow than one of Jason's thighs. (Well---alright. They actually come in at a close second to his chest, while his stomach sits at a narrow third. But---still.) There's nothing like reclining on the couch, his head pillowed on Jason's lap while the TV plays in the background.

Tonight, Tim's foregone his laptop. For once in his life, he's had enough of numbers. He just wants to relax with his boyfriend.

Jason's hand drops into his hair, stroking idly through the strands. Tim's eyelids droop. He raises his hand, wrapping it around Jason's knee; thumb pressed to the back of it. Jason's leg shifts to accommodate him.

He smiles, humming softly. He turns his face, pressing a kiss to Jason's thigh. Jason's fingers pause in his hair for a moment, and then continue; the gentle scratch of nails against his scalp making Tim wish he could purr, pushing into his hands.

Jason laughs; a soft huff of air that turns Tim's insides soft and fuzzy. "Overgrown kitten," he murmurs.

Tim's mouth twitches. "Meow~"

Jason snorts, flicking his ear. "Hush, I'm watching a movie."

Tim nips him through his sweats, earning a light tug to his hair. He heaves a put-on sigh, drawing his blanket higher up his shoulder.

Then he settles, letting the low murmur of the television and Jason's fingers in his hair lull him to sleep.

[ sultry prompts list ]

[blackjackkent]

Suggestion for your fic prompt request :)

Jaheira and Karlach - "stories around the campfire" - Karlach is full of questions about the old days, and Jaheira tells her a story she may not have expected.

TYSM for this prompt! This one made me smile a lot. (I really love writing both Jaheira and Karlach, so writing both of them bonding is, as Karlach would say, aces. :D ) I really hope you enjoy it!

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Comrades and Lost Children

Pairing: Jaheira & Karlach Characters: Jaheira, Karlach Rating: G Warnings: None Word Count: 2.3k Setting: Several hours after the death of Ketheric Thorm Summary: Jaheira and Karlach share memories during a late night after the fall of Moonrise Towers. other bg3 one-shots | send me fic requests!

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A shadow among shadows, the black panther pads through the twisted forest outside Moonrise.

The curse is already beginning to fade with Ketheric’s death. The land is hardly yet safe, but the silent creature can step without pain in the milder patches of darkness. And it seems joyous in that freedom; a low purr rumbles in its throat as it darts repeatedly from the path to climb a gnarled tree trunk or roll in a struggling patch of grass, scenting out the places where nature’s strength is starting to recover within the broken landscape.

It’s a short journey north to Last Light, but the panther’s meandering route takes it past the moonlight-bathed building. Instead, it makes for the small camp where Hector and his companions have been lodging since their arrival in the shadowlands. Unsurprisingly, given it is nearly two in the morning, the camp is still and silent; only a lone tiefling figure sits up keeping guard by the slowly dying fire.

So softly does the huge cat move that Karlach does not at first notice its approach. It is almost within the circle of firelight before she registers it - but when she does, she moves fast, leaping to her feet with a startled cry and bringing her sword to bear on the beast. “Holy shit--”

For a moment the two of them stare at each other, unmoving. Then the panther's body begins to shift, magical energy flowing off it like a surge of dark water. Jaheira's lithe form uncurls within the burst of power into a standing position from the hunch in which the wildshape left her. “Is there a problem, Karlach?” she says, looking calmly into the point of the sword drawn on her.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Karlach says. She slumps with relief and lets the weapon drop to her side; a nervous smile bursts onto her face at once as she recognizes the other woman. “You scared the piss out of me.” 

Read More on AO3

[keepswingin]

Challenge time!! Write a stand alone scene with 143 words. 😉 (I personally would prefer Minsung or Felix but you can choose whatever you want 😂)

"You're not supposed to die."

Minho huffs. The blanket he's bundled in feels stiff and heavy around his body, anchoring him to a floor that's long fallen out from beneath him. He looks up at his other half, and feels his chest twist.

"Everyone dies eventually," Minho throws back, words snapping against the bitter silence that's settled around them. Jisung's nose is red. The skin around his fingers is brittle and torn as he reaches out, months old callouses scattered across his knuckles.

The blanket shifts slightly as he finds one of Minho's hands, freezing fingers slipping against his warm palm. He should be cold like Jisung, but he isn't, fever burning him from the inside out.

"Not you," Jisung whispers, heartbroken. "Not like this."

Minho doesn't know what else to say.

There's nothing left to say, when he's never felt more alive.

[iamfruitie]

Kinktober 2023 Day 30

Phone Sex

Mad finished setting up the laptop and webcam so that they were both at the perfect angle for himself and Anti to see Mare and Dark and they could see them in return. He was proud of the set-up he created on the bed. Most would call it a ‘nest’ with all the soft blankets and pillows he piled for him and Anti to lounge in. 

“You are so extra.” Anti teased as he came into the bedroom. 

“I just want us to be comfortable during the call,” Mad stated with a bit of a huff. 

“And it's adorable, Maddy.” Anti lightly purred, kissing Mad's cheek when all he got was a pout in response. “You’re more adorable when you pout.” 

“I will lock you out of the room and take the call myself.” Mad weakly threatened, crawling up on the bed. 

“And miss the surprise?” Anti threw himself to land on the bed next to Mad. “Dark and Mare have been gone forever and I want to see what those two have in store.” 

“It’s been two days and they likely bought something,” Mad stated, tugging on Anti’s arm to get him into the proper position for the camera. 

“The text read that it was going to be a much more fun surprise.” Anti giggled, wrapping his arm around Mad’s waist and leaning against him. 

“You read too much into texts,” Mad said. 

“You won’t think that when I’m proven right.” Anti clicked his tongue as the video call started ringing. 

“It’s them!” Mad perked up with excitement, reaching over and answering the call. “I-” The next sentence got caught in his throat when he and Anti were greeted with a very interesting scene.

“Told you.” Anti’s eyes darkened, more than happy with being correct. 

Mare and Dark were on the screen but neither of them was looking at the camera. They were too entranced in each other’s mouths, showing no restraint in the kiss. Looking further down gave an explanation as to why Mare was moaning a bit more than Dark. His pants and boxers were pushed down to mid-thigh and Dark was slowly stroking his cock, twisting his wrist and getting another sound out of Mare. 

“I-I’m-I’m-um-” Mad could only sputter as his eyes got wider and his face turned a bright shade of red. 

“I think you like the show more than I do,” Anti whispered into Mad’s ear, grinning when he slid his hand down and got a shiver from him. “Would you like to give them a surprise as well?” He moved his hand down more and squeezed Mad’s thigh, getting a little gasp from him this time.

“Y-Yes.” Mad nodded his head, eyes not turning away from the screen. 

“Take off your pants and we can so easily do that~” 

Mare cursed against Dark’s lips, gripping at his upper arms as he rutted his hips into Dark’s hand. The build-up of knowing that Mad and Anti were watching them was enough to send him over the edge and was cumming with a soft groan. 

“It seems like Anti and Mad decided to join the fun.” Dark chuckled, looking over at their setup and getting their own show on the screen. 

“I knew Anti couldn’t resist.” Mare chuckled as well, leaning back against the bed while Dark cleaned his hand off, both watching the show. 

“A-Anti~” Mad moaned. He was up on Anti’s lap, his bottom half bare and shirt slightly lifted, legs spread and showing off Anti’s fingers working him open. Anti had the biggest grin as he watched Dark and Mare’s reaction. While there was a smaller screen showing Anti and Mad themselves, Mad could only focus on the other two while Anti went back and forth between the screens, having the time of his life seeing the three men he loved all worked up. He did enjoy being the center of attention plenty of times, but he also really enjoyed a good view of his partners. 

“Lift his hips a little more, he likes that angle better,” Dark suggested, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. Anti did so and Mad slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound that came out of him, the fingers brushing against some perfect spots inside him. 

“Move his hand, we want to hear him.” Mare chuckled deeply, kicking his pants off fully. Anti coaxed Mad’s hand down and kissed his neck a few times before speaking. 

“Go on, Maddy, let them hear you. Say their names.” Anti started thrusting his fingers faster, curling them and earning a loud moan from Mad. 

“D-Dark~! Mare~!” Mad got out between breaths, gripping at his own shirt as he forced his eyes to stay open, not wanting to miss anything since Mare and Dark were removing their clothing as they watched him and Anti. His gaze did drift and he finally saw the other image, saw what was happening to him and that sent a whole new wave through him. Mad threw his head back and moaned again, cumming suddenly and shocking the others a little. 

“I knew I said you really liked this, but I didn’t think you liked it this much.” Anti nipped at Mad’s jaw, pulling his hand away. “And something tells me you’d love to have some more~”

“Please.” Mad panted.

“And when are you two coming home?” Anti smirked at the webcam, blinking and finding that Mare and Dark were no longer on screen. 

“Right now.” Dark’s voice nearly growled behind Anti. 

“What happened to ‘needing to be present the whole job’?” Anti asked in a mocking tone. 

“One night won’t ruin the plan,” Mare said, pulling Mad out of Anti’s lap.

“We should do the camera stuff more,” Mad said, wrapping his arms around Mare’s neck. 

“Of course, starlight.” Mare hummed before pulling Mad into a kiss. 

“You look all worked up, Darky.” Anti giggled, moving himself back a bit so Dark could put himself between his legs.

“Just a bit.” Dark slipped his hands under Anti’s shirt. 

“You going to use me to relieve it?” Anti laid himself out, resting his hands next to his head. 

“Some of it. I have to have my turn with our little fox as well.” Dark lifted the shirt as he trailed kisses up Anti’s body. 

“Only if I get to play with Mare, too~” 

“Of course, darling.” Dark winked and caught Anti in a kiss. 

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@dungeon-dragons-dragons