#does it count as a prompt?

[ghost-bxrd]

I think we as a fandom need to have more talks about ✨dramatic✨ Jason running his own AO3 blog where he posts increasingly violent and heart wrenching stories about Robin. (The second Robin. Because he’s absolutely self inserting.)

And the Batfam find out about those fic that have a startlingly detailed layout of the batcave and accurate patrol routes that they choose to investigate (by reading the fics, duh) and growing increasingly upset about how the characters are portrayed.

Especially Robin.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 102

 Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. In for ten seconds, out for eight. Alright. Okay. “Let me get this straight,” he didn’t motion to the three teens- or not teens even if two apparently looked like they were- but it was a close thing. “You-” 

 Phantom perked up, white hair flickering with what he was pretty sure were stars as they turned away from the window looking out into space. “-are two years old.” The fae-esque being who looked more like a fourteen year old gave a half-distracted nod. Which, for a toddler, they were paying attention pretty well. 

 “You-” Klarion looked up from where he was fiddling with the cuffs that had been on him, cat sprawled on his shoulder now that it was out of the carrier. “-are six?” Another distracted nod, the apparently-child seemingly enamored with the sounds the cuffs made when they clinked together. 

  “And you-” He turned towards Marvel, who shrank back before seemingly steeling themself. “-are in fact ten.” The… well they had thought demigod but apparently all three were some sort of realms-being, which had apparently made Constantine pale and start cursing before stomping out of the Watchtower. Another nod and shaky thumbs up. 

 Alright. Okay. They had in fact let a ten-year old join the league, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they had known. Especially the fact that apparently Marvel was only half-human, which suddenly explained so much about how he didn’t know so many things about a human life. Which-

 “You,” he turned towards Phantom again to make sure he was listening before returning his attention to Marvel. “And you have both lived at least a year in the human realm with human companions, but your-” He turned his gaze towards the ravenette in the center. The six year old apparently. “-experience with the human realm is literally just with the Light.” 

 Yet another distracted nod. Okay. Bruce was tempted to scream in a room for the entire situation that had cropped up from the single action of taking Klarion’s familiar and then the boy himself into custody. Then again, it was honestly a much better thing they had apparently caught this. 

 “Alright,” he sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. “To make sure I have all of this correct-” Because it was already a shitshow and the amount of shouting had absolutely spooked the child. To the point he’d- according to Marvel- made what was apparently some sort of very distressed noise that had made both him and Phantom running. Or rather flying and portaling. 

 “-in the realms, people there make friends through fighting,” Bruce pauses to make sure he got that part correct. The origin of this entire misunderstanding with the chaos-lord. Lordling? 

 All three nodded, Klarion losing interest in the cuffs and starting to pet his cat. Familiar. Everyone had referred to it as a familiar and Marvel had appeared utterly horrified that they had taken said familiar away. Somehow he was the one the trio were currently trusting and weren’t doing the same towards any of the other league members. 

 “And you have been trying to make friends with the Jr team, which they have been taking as an attack due to this miscommunication.” Honestly they should have gotten more information, though he couldn’t exactly blame any of the teens, what with everything they were currently dealing with. 

 “... is there any sort of guardian or something you might have, that can be contacted? Or anyone that could help prevent a situation like this from happening again?” All three avoided his eyes, suddenly finding things like the table and walls very interesting. 

 Oh. Hm. This could be a problem.

[starlitmeadows]

Touch

isatober day 5

[radioroxx]

Perhaps some Isabeau being comforted as well?

isa comfort was gonna appear in the og post but i. didnt like the sketch so i scrapped it mb

so heres two to make up for it :)

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[whumble-beeee]

Crack Prompt: Welcome to the Whumpee Store!

(aka totally not bbu what do you MEAN)

Whumpees stacked on shelves grocery store-style

Different aisles for different types of whumpee ("No ma'am, this is actually the conditioned aisle, the defiant aisle is on the other side of the store, aisle 9.")

Workers that are TOTALLY not whumpees themselves probably

Or maybe that teenager helping you really is just your average dead-eyed retail worker. Basically the same thing at this point anyway.

"Sir, that's the price for a fresh unaltered whumpee. You can mold them however you want."

"You want me to do YOUR JOB for you?! What kind of establishment is this?!"

On that note, whumpees made to order

You want a medium-sized defiant whumpee that'll start crying and freeze up the second you turn the lights off? Say less.

Tags on the more dainty and dewey-eyed whumpees that say "Torture with Care"

"Mx., you broke the warranty when you threw your whumpee down the stairs. The instructions clearly state they're meant for household chores only, you'll have to pay full price for a new one."

Whumpees in those sealed plastic action figure boxes, forced into a single pose for. however long it takes you to buy them please buy them they're begging you please PLEASE PLEASE THEY CAN'T TAKE--

Whumpees staring hopefully (or fearfully) at every potential customer that walks by.

BARTERING. RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. WHUMPEE.

Customers trying to get the conditioned whumpees to crack so they don't have to pay as much for them.

"I'm not sure this whumpee is trained as well as you say, I'm gonna need a demonstration"

Living weapon whumpees locked behind those stupid glass cabinets that you have to get a store attendant to unlock for you if you want to get at one

^Exotic/rare/expensive ones too

Thank you to all my friends on the Whump World server for all your suggestions and enabling me :) I probably have more too, but this was getting long lmao

@whumperofworlds | @randowhump | @kira-the-whump-enthusiast | @whumpninja

[moss-on-trees]

DP X DC PROMPT: DISRUPTIVE SUMMONINGS AU

Some time after Danny joins the Justice League, his Rogues find out and whine at him about how he's "hoarding all the good fights and we're all so boooored, don't be stingy!" so they come up with a summoning rotation where he calls on them to help deal with the kind of threats that requires backup. The JL is appreciative at first. They are less so once they realise how chaotic Danny's reformed Rogue Gallery can be.

(Batman especially wants them all gone, they're so unpredictable he can't plan a strategy around their madness. Robin hates Youngblood with the fire of a thousand suns and has declared him his nemesis. The Flash wants Clockwork to stop bullying him.)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“So what exactly is this…” The villain grabbed the hero’s wrist before they could touch the electronic gadget.

“If you want to, you can play with it outside. Not in here, please,” the villain said, their voice low, controlled. Their expression serious.

The hero rolled their eyes.

“Ugh, I’m not a dog that plays outside,” the hero hissed. They freed themselves from the villain’s grip rather harshly and stared at their nemesis who merely raised their brows.

“You’re not?”

“Ugh, you—”

“Then don’t touch my toys, love.”

“I should be confiscating your ‘toys.’ They’re a hazard for national security.”

“Are suspended heroes allowed to do that?” the villain mused. Their lazy smile spread all over their face and the hero clenched their jaw hard enough to make it hurt. Because, technically, the villain was right.

The hero had been suspended. For reckless behaviour. For now.

“Fuck off,” the hero whispered. They turned around to look at the other weapons and technical devices in the (what the villain called) weapon room. It was more the size of an entire apartment.

And quite impressive. They knew the villain was rich, but rich enough to possess technology not even the government knew of?

In their training, the hero had learnt quite a lot about weaponry, but this was beyond them. They barely recognised anything in here, let alone how to use this technology.

“Don’t you have like…a normal gun in here? Something I can actually use?” the hero asked. The villain took a small quadratic device from a table where hundreds of them were arranged properly.

“What makes you think I’d let you use any of this?”

“Ah, so you just want to show off.” The villain turned to look at the hero and merely shrugged.

“Perhaps.” The hero couldn’t even tell which was worse: being suspended or crawling to the villain, asking for help.

But the hero had no choice, this case was important and without the agency’s help, the villain was the only person they could turn to. So far, the villain played no part in this, so the hero could only hope they were interested in a neutral approach.

Together.

The hero’s jaw hurt.

“This is all we need for now,” the villain said. “It’s a tracking device. Location, voices, if it’s close enough to the person you’re trying to observe, it can even measure their heartbeat.”

They showed the hero the little device, not much bigger than a fingernail.

“Hm.” The hero scratched the back of their neck. The bugs from the agency were much bigger, much less capable. “And that’s gonna work?”

The villain simply laughed. “It’s adorable that you think it won’t.”

“I just…need this to work,” the hero said. The circumstances around this case were complicated, but the hero was willing to use every mean necessary to solve the murder of a colleague. It wasn’t easy, not even after an entire year.

Maybe that was the whole reason for why the agency had suspended them. Maybe they didn’t want them to work on the case at all.

“It will,” the villain said. “You don’t want to know how many times I slipped through your fingers thanks to one of these.”

“…delightful,” the hero said. They took a careful look at the villain. As always, dressed in fine clothes, as always serious, but still amused by pretty much anything. The hero always felt quite small next to them, even though they were sure they were older than them.

If the villain betrayed them, the hero was probably going to lose their shit.

They needed a Plan B, needed to be prepared for such an event.

“Don’t worry, love. This one is on me,” the villain said. They leaned over, their lips nearly touching the hero’s ear. “Unless you have a few million dollars on hand to pay for this.”

The hero blushed immediately and pushed the villain away.

“My god. You’re horrible.” They were regretting this already.

“Play nice. You know my kindness has its limits.”

Indeed. The villain wasn’t afraid of breaking the hero’s bones. Their forearm still hurt when they were lifting weights.

The hero sighed.

“You’re right.”

“Apologise then.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. Their ears were hot enough to hurt. They tried to look at everything except for the villain but that was nearly impossible. The villain’s pure presence demanded attention.

“No, properly. On your knees.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Quite serious, love,” the villain said. They smiled, more than a little amused. It wasn’t their soft smile and it wasn’t their evil smile either. They simply looked quite happy with themselves.

Despite their raging heart, the hero dropped to their knees. There was no negotiating with the villain. They knew that.

“Sorry.” Their voice was flat. Their face beet red. They bit the inside of their cheek. Thank god they were alone, they knew the villain liked to put on a show for an audience.

Which made this also quite intimate and embarrassed the hero even more.

They swallowed.

“Good enough for me. Get up.” The hero did so and once again, the villain leaned over, smiling. They put a hand on the hero’s shoulder and with the other, they gave them the little bug. “Not a dog, huh?”

[stars-obsession-pit]

(Another) Ghost in the Machine

DP x Hellblazer (the original John Constantine comic)

Ritchie Simpson continued to search frantically for the connection out of the computer and back to his body as he begged John to explain what he meant by saying “Goodbye.”

Had John disconnected him? He knew John’s sense of humor wasn’t the lightest, especially after Newcastle drove them all a bit insane, but that felt too far even for him. Nah, he’d probably just gotten himself a bit lost in the wave of energy he’d experienced in the Tongues of Fire network and was accidentally looking for his body in the wrong spot.

He pulled himself back and let his mental connection to the digital world expand outward, probing the rest of the machine for the connection. He knew he was in the right system, so as long as he looked thoroughly he’d definitely fi—

Everything flashed a surge of blinding white and then was replaced by pure darkness. He thought he screamed, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. Couldn’t even feel his own thoughts. Trapped in one single instant that stretched for indeterminable eons. Then, eventually (or was it immediately?), awareness began to trickle back.

He was still in the computer, though it felt… different, somehow. His thoughts still weren’t entirely in order. The first possible hints towards his location he found were the sound voices trickling through from the outside world. Voices he didn’t recognize. Young voices.

“I’m happy to help, Tuck, but I’m not really sure what you expect me to do here. You’re way better than me at this computer stuff than me.”

“By all means, feel free to keep complimenting me, but this has been frying my brain, man. I got this thing secondhand, and the system should be quite powerful, but there’s something using up a ton of its processing and I can’t figure out what. I was hoping you could do your ‘enter into the computer’ thing and see if you see anything.”

[tame-the-lion-writes]

an executioner's mercy

Some fanfic I started but never finished, based on the premise that Silent Hill's executioner had an accompanying spirit, meant to embody mercy. Kinda like the dynamic of life and death, Hades and Persephone type vibes.

Someone use this prompt cause I ain't ever gettin around to it no more

-

You don’t remember the life you had before Silent Hill. You weren’t sure if you had one.

What you could remember was waking up on the edge of the forest, ash falling from the sky, and the feeling of dry leaves beneath your feet. And the endless fog rolling out in every direction, turning you back to the near-empty town whenever you tried to leave.

Eventually, you learned that you weren’t alone. Other creatures roamed this place, especially when the darkness fell and coated everything in blood and rust. Twitching figures in scantily-clad nurse outfits, fleshy amalgamations of limbs sticking out at odd angles. At first, you darted away from them, pressing your back to walls and holding your breath in fear of discovery, but as you later realized, none of these beings seemed to mind your presence. Especially not him.

He was a man. Or, at least, he took the appearance of one.

He could have been human if it weren’t for the pyramid atop his stature, melding into the flesh of his neck, and if it weren’t for the snake-like tongue you saw occasionally emerging from beneath. He, who burdened himself with the steel blade he dragged behind him. He, who persistently stained himself with the blood of other “residents.” He, who once found you huddled idly in a corner, shielding yourself from the uncomfortable chill in the air, and who  acknowledged you with a simple nod before deciding to be at your side forever.

And he who now lingers, an unheard breath away.

It must be odd, you think to yourself—or at least, it would be odd to the nurses and otherwise if they could think—to see such a towering monster follow the footsteps of a mere girl. You had seen yourself in broken mirrors; you considered yourself nothing special. Human, at least in appearance, though the passivity of the creatures said otherwise. True humans had found themselves in Silent Hill after you, and you had bore witness to their slaughter, yet not a single nail had scratched you. If it weren’t for the Executioner, as you’d aptly dubbed him, you’d think you were a ghost twice over. Invisible to all—except perhaps the men the Executioner made bleed, and whom you had learned to comfort with steady heart and soothing whisper. You could not stop the butcher, and would not, but could offer peace.

And that brings us to now: the odd companionship between you and him.

Wandering about with nothing else to do but wait ‘til the next lamb to the slaughter.

[embrosegraves]

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘

Just a lil something I thought of and couldn't get out of my head :P I hope you enjoy <3

Max Verstappen x Reader  “If you can justify the purchase, then you can buy it for me.” Sugar Daddy x Slightly Reluctant! Sugar Baby

very brief google translated dutch (it's like 2 thing near the end)

You weren’t sure how you managed to get to this point in your life. One night you were working at your local club, trying to make ends meet with three jobs. You needed to pay for rent and utilities and food and the ever looming University degree you had begun studying for. You never thought you’d ever get to a point of financial comfortability, because the situation definitely wasn’t the most stable but it was comfortable. 

At first you thought he was just another rich snob who wanted to impress his mates with the amount of money he could spend on a single night. And to be fair he kinda was. He just also happened to be the one that sat with you while you worked the bar, listening to your woes of being a uni student who needed to work more than one job throughout the day on top of going to class.  

Now though, almost exactly 3 years after first meeting him, you couldn’t believe what you were looking at. 

“I’m not letting you buy that for me, Max.”

“Why not?” He was almost (definitely) pouting. 

“Because I can buy my own laptop? And besides, my final year is almost over, I can get it after.” 

Max looked at you unimpressed. “The one you have now is falling apart. You need a new one.”

You grabbed his hand and slowly led him to a bench that was outside the store you were just standing in. “My love, I adore that you want to get me a new laptop for school, but you cannot justify spending three and a half million dollars on a laptop for me. I don’t care if it’s Swarovski, I don’t care if it’s the best laptop in the world. I don’t need it.”

It was always like this between you and Max. He wanted to buy you the most insanely expensive things just because he could, but you always told him not to. Looking at him in front of you, his face sporting an almost unnoticeable frown, you sighed. Keeping hold of his hand in yours, you moved your free hand to cradle his face. 

“I will let you buy me a laptop-” His face lit up, “on the condition that it cost no more than eight thousand. I know I cannot get you to spend like a regular person, so that will be the cap on how much you spend on my laptop.”

“You never let me do anything fun.” Max was pouting again, but you could see his eyes were happy. 

“Well, that’s tough Schat. If it makes you feel better, after you get the laptop because I’m not budging on that, you can buy me whatever you want-” You held your hand in front of him before Max could interrupt and start celebrating, “but you have to be able to properly justify the purchase. Which means no more mindless spending on things, okay?” 

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “As long as I still get to spoil you, like you deserve, then I will agree to your conditions.” 

You felt as he placed a kiss on your head before you moved back. You gave him a kiss on his lips and smiled at him. 

“Go. I can tell you’re just wanting to find a laptop to get me.”

He laughed and kissed you again before grabbing your hands and leading to a different tech store for your new laptop. “Let’s go then, Mijn Liefje!”

Translations (Provided by Google Translate) Schat = Darling Mijn Liefje = My Love

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 289

While Bruce was lost in time, he made a Deal. 

He doesn’t exactly mention it to his family when he comes back- he was more than a little busy trying to figure out what he missed, where his children were, what the fuck had even happened. Besides, he’d put it in the report that he’d encountered some sort of primordial time being- even if he was still investigating that on his down time. 

So he thinks he can be forgiven for forgetting to mention anything until Clark drops a cup while staring at him with a pale expression and shakily asks why there’s a second, slower heartbeat in his chest. He just also wishes it wasn’t in the middle of a League meeting. 

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 34

Jaskier is a succubus/incubus (Cause some sources say it's based on the entity's gender, and some say the name is based on the gender of the people they have sex with, so if he's a succubus or if he's an incubus is up to you, darling <3) Jaskier hasn't told Geralt of this, of course. He'd rather not add another thing to Geralt's seemingly endless list of things he hates about Jaskier. Jaskier jumps from bed to bed in towns, because he physically feeds on the passion of his little midnight trysts he has with lonely unsatisfied women in town. He'd go for men too, but doesn't need more mobs chasing him out of town and annoying Geralt. Geralt finally snaps at him one night, fed up with getting chased out of three fucking towns in a row. And the worst part isn't even the fact they keep getting thrown out. It's when Jaskier comes to him, ruffled, kiss-bruised, and reeking of sex he had with someone else. Jaskier, scared of Geralt leaving him behind, promises that he'll volunteer to have a dry-spell. No more cuckolding husbands for Jaskier, no sirree! However, being a succubus/incubus means that the longer he goes without some passion, the more weak he gets, and he starts to fall ill. Geralt grows increasingly worried. One night at camp, Geralt kisses Jaskier's forehead when Jaskier is asleep and he watches as color visibly returns to Jaskier's face, and Geralt's medallion hums. Geralt is now suspicious Jaskier has been cursed. Jaskier returns to looking peaky by the next morning. That is, until Geralt drags him into a hug on a hunch, and sure enough, Jaskier looks better. The more romantic the gesture, the more it seems to help Jaskier. Jaskier finally confesses what he is, bawling and sure that Geralt will banish him at the least and kill him at the most. Geralt is horrified, and hugs his friend close, promising he'd never do either. (BECAUSE THE MOUNTAIN BREAKUP SHOULD'VE NEVER LEFT THE WRITING ROOM) Geralt offers to have sex, wanting Jaskier to be healthy again, but Jaskier doesn't want the only time he gets to sleep with the love of his life to be when Geralt doesn't even love him back. He says as such, and Geralt stumbles his way through confessing that Jaskier's feelings are requited, and Geralt loves him too.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Medieval Dragon Rider Au!

Jason is presumed dead after an assassination attempt on the king goes awry, leaving the young prince’s chambers a burnt a ruin.

The only thing that survives the fire is the prince’s dragon egg, passed on to the king’s newest charge, Tim Drake, after a mourning period. To the surprise of everyone, the egg hatches shortly after. “A sign of the dead prince’s approval”, it is declared.

But when Jason returns to attack Tim in revenge for taking his place, it’s on the back of one of the largest dragons the realm has ever seen.

And Tim’s dragon has only just become big enough to saddle a rider two months ago.

[sensitiveheartless]

hmmmmmmmmmmmmm, another prompt from the intimacy prompt if you don't miiiiiiiiiiiiind

But like, would it be too much to ask for it to be Howl's Moving Castle au? If you'd rather not that's fine-

But like, the tickling prompt, cause like, Dazai's messed with Chuuya one too many times and Chuuya's like "fuck it, face the consequences, mackerel-"

Dazai was no longer safe for the rest of that day-

Everyone else in the castle continues to suffer the horrors of living with these two weirdos(affectionate)

[halvedslab]

You gotta do 10 with ethubs

10. A bloody kiss

Obviously had to draw vhau... Fellas! Is it gay to kiss your own blood out of your vampire boyfriend's mouth