#this continues in tomorrows prompt!

[primavera-weirdeggii]

It’s SKIZZLEMAN WEEK!

Thanks to @skizzlemanweek for the prompts!

Prompt 1: Silent/Shout

Set in a universe that I don’t have a name for yet!

-

Skizz held out his torch, shining the light on the deepslate walls around him. Every tunnel looked the same in this place, and his torch did next to nothing to light up the area.

He’d been in this cave for nearly two hours, and after fleeing from a particularly angry hoard of spiders, he’s left with one less chest plate than he had before, and with no clue which direction leads to the surface.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “I’ve never gotten so turned around in a cave before.”

He opened his backpack and glanced inside. So far, he’s gathered twelve pieces of iron ore, eight lapis lazuli, and four string - from the angry spiders.

Skizz thought that there would be more ores the deeper he mined, but apparently that isn’t the case. Apparently, the only thing you get this deep in caves, is lost and confused.

That, or Skizz is just insanely unlucky.

The light passed over something odd up ahead. A strange blue substance was caked all over the floor and walls of a crevice in the back corner of the cave. He raised a brow - that was something he hadn’t seen before.

The blue substance looked like it got thicker and more prominent deeper into the crevice, almost as if it was growing from somewhere within.

Bones creaked to his left, and Skizz quickly whipped around, linking eyes with a skeleton.

Don’t sneak up on a guy like that! He thought, frantically pulling out his shield as the skelly aimed his bow, blocking the arrow at the last second.

He whipped out his sword, lunging forward and landing a hit on the skelly before quickly pulling up his shield again.

Skizz managed to avoid the skeleton’s arrow the second time, but when he lunged to hit it again, his foot slipped into a crack he hadn’t noticed, and he stumbled.

“Shit,” he spat as he tried to tug his foot from the crack. The skeleton aimed its bow again, and Skizz scrambled to pull out his shield again, but it was too late.

The skeleton managed to fire an arrow faster than Skizz could pull his foot from the hole, and he took a good hit to the shoulder. Skizz shouted out as burning pain burst from his shoulder, seeming to radiate all down his left arm.

His shout reverberated around the walls of the cave, and something rumbled off in the distance.

The adrenaline of being shot flooded his veins, and with a burst of strength, he managed to free himself from the crack and swipe his sword at the skeleton, making it drop its bow.

With the skeleton disarmed, Skizz lunged again, ignoring the throb of pain from both his shoulder and his foot, landing one final hit and watching the skeleton crumble to the ground.

He panted as he stood over the body of the skeleton, still pointing his sword as though he expected it to stand up again.

At this point, his mind finally caught up to him, and he turned his attention to the arrow still stuck in his shoulder.

Touching the area around the wound only served to make it hurt worse. After further inspection, the arrow was only stuck about an inch through his shoulder, not all the way through.

“Okay Skizz, what can you do?” He muttered. He had dropped his flashlight and bag during the fight and went back to pick them up, keeping his weight off his right leg.

Kneeling on the ground and holding his flashlight with his teeth, Skizz shuffled through the bag with his good arm, looking for anything he could use for first aid.

His eyes wandered to the four string from earlier. If he tore off part of his shirt, he could probably use the string to fasten a makeshift bandage.

Maybe it hadn’t been the smartest idea to go caving in a button-up shirt, suit vest and tie, but at least it gave him plenty of extra fabric to use.

The vest and tie were in pretty good shape, but the white shirt was already ruined by the blood running down his shoulder.

Gripping part of the sleeve in this good hand and taking the other part in his teeth, Skizz ripped off the entire sleeve at the shoulder, which also gave him a clear view of where the arrow was stuck in his skin.

Just as he thought - not deep enough to be life-threatening, but just deep enough to be concerning.

After making sure he had all his medical supplies ready - ratty string and tattered cloth - Skizz gripped the shaft of the arrow.

He breathed in, slow, counting to four -

And ripped the arrow out.

A scream tore itself out of him, the sound of his broken voice echoing around the dark cavern.

A rumbling started up again from deeper in the cave, and this time, it did not go unnoticed.

Skizz chose to ignore the sound for now, instead dealing with the more pressing issue of his arm bleeding everywhere. He quickly pushed the cloth against the wound, holding it in place with his chin as he wrapped the string around it.

Once the cloth was secure, he shakily tied the string together, pulling the knot tight with his teeth.

He spared a second to breathe a pained sigh of relief, then gathered up his stuff and swung his bag over his uninjured shoulder.

Using his sword to support himself, Skizz stood up and looked in the direction of the rumbling.

It was coming from the crevice with the blue substance.

And now that he wasn’t blinded by pain, Skizz noticed that he was instead blinded by something else.

A dark fog had creeped into the cave, lurking at the edges of his vision and in areas where the dim light of his flashlight couldn’t reach.

Against his better judgement, Skizz slowly creeped over towards the crack, feeling a quiver of nerves in his gut.

Something weird is going on here, and that rumbling must have something to do with it.

[emacrow]

Clockwork was in the middle of mentoring Danny about his Duty as High King leading him by his shoulders before he felt a awful core wrenching pain before he quite literally pulled through the afterlife and back into the living. Pt 1

Now Clockwork haven't been alive for an awful Long Long time since he was beaten and killed by his Children during his madness phase, so suddenly awakening in a sacrificial alter, the feeling of gravity weighing him down, eyes blurring, ears ringing with a loud noise that kept going badump ba dump as he was experiencing what possible the worst tremendous sensitivity overload of being brought back from the very dead and into brand new mortal flesh.

The Justice League and dark Justice were in the middle of stopping the forbidden ritual from some crazed Cultists who somehow found the skull, some of wonder women's blood, ancient artifacts of time belonging Kronos could only stood frozen in shock to see in horror and a bit of mesmerized fascination.

As the skull began to glow a ominous greenish blue glow of Magic form by blood then bones, muscle then flesh with very very long blonde hair that kept going down while the rest began quickly making a neck, a chest, arms, and the rest of the remaining of the naked body.

What the cultists didn't expect at all was Kronos's new body was a women due to the misread of a certain someone who thought the blood of the main head descendants of Greek meant wonder women and not a male descendants. Along with a much more different oopsy was the gasping little naked toddler that was looking wide eyed gasping heavily at the suddenly drag along as he being held tightly by the now Female Kronos's arms.

>> part 2

[ghostbsuter]

Inspired by that one episode in Young Justice.

—

"You could leave with me," 'Gray' nods at him, there is the familiar, mischievous smile. Yet the sincerely in which he offers his hand, it reflects in his eyes.

Danny reflects back on his life, staring at his partner, how Freakshow had gotten him into this Circus in the first place.

"Where would we go?" He relents, grasping the offered hand to hold it simply. The weight of the appendage is calming for his racing heart.

'Gray' softens, leaning against him. Their outfifs– tight on their bodies, colourful for the eyes of the people. Ruffles, dark and gooey to fit the theme of the circus, showing more skin than comfortable– it was home.

After so long, it had become home and Danny isn't sure if he could leave it.

(Is that how Freakshow never lost any workers even after his staff broke? Did they become dependent on him just as he has?)

"Everywhere." His performance partner replies, reassures with his presence and Danny soaks it in.

They would move tomorrow, but 'Gray' would not come along.

[benevolenterrancy]

@hereticcryptid I appear to be slowly but surely developing an entire series about how Hensheng and Baxia apparently get fed up with their owners' inability to express their feelings and take matters into their own hands...

[skibasyndrome]

💜 wilmon;

"What if I get lonely at two in the morning and call you to talk me to sleep?"

"What if I get lonely at two in the morning and call you to talk me to sleep?" Simon shoots Wille a playfully stern look. Wille is acting like he's going to be gone for half a year, not just two weeks. "I love you, Wille, but I'm not picking up my phone in the middle of the night, not even for you," Simon tells him, even though they both know that that is a blatant lie. "I mean my two in the morning, not yours," Wille says, giving Simon his best attempt at puppy eyes (of course those always work on Simon) before grabbing his hand and cradling it between his warm palms. Simon does the quick math in his head and, okay, yeah, New York's 2 am is Stockholm's 8 am, so that should be fine. Not that it wouldn't be otherwise, but at least Simon gets to have his morning coffee while making sure his sleepy fiancé knows he's there for him, even when there are a couple thousand kilometers between them.

This turned surprisingly sappy 🥹. But they deserve their little cutesy goodbye talk <3 Thank you for the prompt, dearest anon!!! 💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write the next five

[kryptonbabe]

You will get a new Wonder Woman run planned to be a long and structured one - but it's written by Tom King

You will get a new Black Canary run - the thing is, it will be written by Tom King

You will get a series of some silver age partially forgotten characters you like - Adam Strange, Omega Men, Metamorpho - but here's the catch: they'll all be written by Tom King

Why all these times I got something I wanted from DC it was like meeting this wise and cruel Jinn trying to warn me about the potential harm of my heart's desires?

"Be careful what you wish for, little one. Now take this Tom King book" the creature whispers while I sob

[gardenofnoah]

I present you a peridot and underneath is shinso's name on a slip of paper

u clever little witch. how did u know this was the perfect pairing. i adore u

peridot— “i didn’t know someone else’s joy could make me feel so happy.” (shinsou)

.

"what are you looking at?"

your voice snaps him out of his reverie—he blinks and there you are, watching him with mild bemusement.

"you," he reaches forward to poke your cheek, making you huff, "keep talking."

you grin at him and he feels it bodily—warmth spreads in his chest like you've plunged him into boiling water, but it doesn't hurt. he feels a smile of his own stretch across his face as your voice calls to him through the water in his ears. he wants to lean into it—he decides not to refrain, not to cut off this simple pleasure at the tap—and you don't bat an eye when he tucks you under his arm and presses a kiss to your temple.

"but yeah, it was good. like, really, really good. i've never had a meal like that," you let out a wistful sigh, like you're remembering a profoundly sweet memory from childhood—not the lunch you had with a coworker.

"oh!" you jump up from his hold, patting the couch cushions wildly until you find your phone, "we saw ducks! i took a picture because i wanted to show you the babies!"

you shove the phone in his face and sure enough—a mother duck and her gaggle of ducklings paddle around a murky pond on your screen. he watches for a few seconds before his eyes drift up to meet yours. he finds he can't look away, then, because you are beaming, nearly vibrating with some strange delight that he's not privy to.

but god, does he want to be.

his hand wraps around yours and guides the phone back down to the cushion. you cock your head at him, raising an eyebrow.

"you don't like the babies?"

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "i do—thank you for showing me, baby."

he pulls you back into his lap, enamored by the giggle you let out.

"you're awfully touchy today," you tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. he hums, tilting his head to kiss the curve of your jaw softly.

"that so?" he mumbles noncommittally against your skin, nuzzling into you like a lazy cat, "just missed you."

"you missed me, Hi?" he can hear the affection in your words and he settles deeper into the crook of your neck—nearly desperate to press closer to the rumble of your voice, "you missed my endless stories?"

hiding his face, he feels bold enough to say the thought that's been bouncing around in his head since you bounded through the door, eager to tell him every detail of your day like you always do.

"i did," he says quietly, arms tightening around your middle, "it makes me happy when you have good days."

you hum, a content little sound, and turn to rest your cheek against his head. your fingers find the purple strands at the base of his neck with practiced ease, and he's not sure he's ever felt like this in his life.

difficult to name at first and seldom felt so freely before you, he recognizes the feeling in his chest as one of joy, unbridled and emboldened in him by your own infectious laugh and animated recount of every tiny detail you gift to him. he knows it now as something of safety—there's no goal to reach and no competition to win in order to feel this. the satisfaction is as innate as breathing. you give it to him so willingly that you've led him to believe he might actually deserve to feel it, if not only for the fact that he is alive and human and sharing the moment with you.

your chest expands against his own with your next breath and he wishes he could climb inside your ribs and live there—surrounded by you and your warmth. but he'd miss the press of your fingertips to the curve of his neck and your wild, fluttering pulse against his lips, and he can't think of a thing he'd give that up for.

his arms tighten around you until you squeak and he presses his smile to your shoulder, nearly delirious with how good it all is.

"i almost forgot to tell you about the dog in the stroller!"

he can't wait to hear about it.

[vizishereig]

Chreon Week: Confessions (Day 2)

The TV is quiet, but still loud enough to hear, playing some sort of comedy show that takes place in a police station. Leon watches it with a mix of amusement and longing. Could that have been him if things had gone differently? Hanging out with coworkers, joking with fellow officers, the friendly competition?

He idly wonders if Chris and himself would have seen each other. It’s not improbable, with the other working in the S. T. A. R. S. office. They would’ve crossed paths every once in a while, for sure. Would they have caught each other’s eyes then? Would they have danced around each other for this long, trying to figure out if the other had liked them?

Leon’s brought out of his thoughts by heavy footsteps nearing the couch. He tenses a little, training more than actual fear, turning to see Chris coming towards the couch. The taller male rubs at his eyes blearily, probably having just woken up to find Leon missing from the bed. He rounds the couch, sitting next to Leon, and tilting over to lean heavily on the blonde.

Leon huffs, amused, but shifts, leaning back so he’s laying with Chris atop him, the other’s head on his stomach. The weight is more grounding than constricting, and Leon relaxes easily, the two of them facing the TV. His hands come up to scratch at Chris’s head absentmindedly as they watch the show, causing the male to go almost boneless on top of him. Leon smiles tiredly at that, his heart doing something funny in his chest.

The two of them are quiet for a while, both of them exhausted. It’s Leon who finally breaks the silence, the quiet itching at him, reminding him a bit too much of the silence of the RPD. He doesn’t have much to talk about, so his tired brain picks the first thing he can think of.

“You know,” Leon begins, tongue loose with exhaustion, tone more than little slurred with sleep, “I had a bit of a crush on you, even before I met you. An idealized one, but one nonetheless.”

Leon doesn’t look down, but he can imagine the confusion that probably appears on Chris’s face. It would be quickly washed away by a smile, one that’s either smug or fond. He can feel Chris twisting around to try and look at him, so he looks down.

Brown eyes are looking up at him, and yep. A fond smile decorates the other’s face, curiosity tinting his gaze. Leon looks back at the TV, a bit too tired to be embarrassed about his confession. Hands gently rub circles into his back where they’re circled around him.

  “Yeah?” Chris replies, voice also tired, but more than a little curious. “How come?”

  Leon tips his head back a bit, thinking. Claire had certainly factored into it with how often she’d talk about Chris. When she’s not around her brother, she’s all sweet words and compliments about him. The picture she’d shown him had completed whatever fondness he’d have for the male, as he was rather… well, cute in his younger years.

“It’s Claire’s fault,” Leon finally says, allowing his gaze to stay on the ceiling, tracing patterns with his eyes. There’s a soft laugh, and Chris’s chin settles on his stomach. Leon looks down, and those eyes are still looking at him, still so fond. But they’re also drifting shut. Leon hums softly, turning the TV off and shifting a little. Chris’s eyes open again.

“Time for bed?” he asks, smile still decorating his face. Leon nods, agreeing. Time for bed.

[wiseatom]

circling back to theme park au, which will be a very late submission for the summer love prompt of byler week!

[madamairlock]

look, here’s my view… - [01x06 - bsg, litmus]

saturnalia in space from scratch [14/24]

~ a bsg christmas calender by @madamairlock & @lalalauraroslin 💜💜

14. going on a sleigh ride

It took her all of five minutes when they left the planet’s atmosphere to realize they weren’t headed back to Galactica or to Colonial One. With a soft hum, she raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Bill, taking the opportunity to watch how he focused on flying the Raptor. Movement caught her attention and she turned back to the window, scanning the star-speckled blackness. 

“Bill?” her eyes narrowed at his reflection, “Where are you taking us?” Despite the lack of contrast, she was able to see his smile. “There’s more to see.” “The stars?” A flash of light made her narrow her eyes and she focused on it, surprised to see it growing larger and closer. The brightness dimmed as it approached until finally she was able to make out the sleek body of a Viper—she couldn’t tell who piloted it from this distance.  It was followed by several others, which appeared too quickly in front of them. She wasn’t able to keep up counting them as they zigzagged back and forth in front of the Raptor, flying close enough to each other that she found herself holding her breath as she watched. They began to slow down and soon hovered near each other, noses pointed outward and tails barely inches apart like a large snowflake in space. Laura gasped and leaned forward, her eyes wide and her hands folded in front of herself.  “Oh, my gods,” she whispered, a large smile forming as she inspected each ship that made up the snowflake and barely able to make out the frosted wreaths and garlands on the side of the Vipers.  “What do you think?” Bill asked softly and she turned to find him watching her.  “I can’t believe you did all this.” She bit her lip but couldn’t contain her smile.  “This was all them.” He waved his hand toward his pilots. “It’s their gift to you.”  “Oh, Bill.” Affection washed over her and she turned back to the ships with tears brimming her eyes. “Thank them for me, please.”

[write-it-motherfuckers]

[v-thinks-on]

Holmes bent down over the corpse to make his own examination, not of the poor dead man’s body, but of his effects, riffling through the man’s jacket, and muttering to himself in a low voice.

“It appears my first conjecture was correct,” Holmes spoke to me once more.

“Oh, have you found a locket or some indication of who may be in need of assistance?” I asked, bending over his shoulder to see for myself.

“No, no, not that. It appears we are not the first unofficial investigators summoned to this charming abode.”

“How ever did you deduce that?” I said in astonishment.

Holmes slipped a business card into my palm, before using my hand to hoist himself up, onto his feet. I nearly laughed as I read the card, which of course told all.

However, I was sobered by the grim circumstances, and surmised, “There must be someone who does not want any investigation.”

“No, it appears not,” Holmes said, his own keen features turned serious, his abstract gaze lost in the gruesome message smeared upon the wall. “A wiser, nobler man might have more than sufficient cause to sound a retreat.” He glanced over at me, a delicate question in his eyes.

I stepped forward to place my hand upon his shoulder. “Where you go, I will follow behind.”

To be continued...

[damiemontclair]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huā Chéng/Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú) Characters: Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Huā Chéng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú) Additional Tags: Dreams, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Morning Kisses, Hand Feeding, Food, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Napping, Reading Aloud Series: Part 19 of Damie's MXTX-tober 2023 Summary:

Day 19: Dream & Hands – HuaLian

“Good morning, Gege,” San Lang greeted softly. The hand in his hair left, coming to rest on the side of his face, a thumb tracing the upturned corner of his lips. Xie Lian turned his head to press a kiss to the palm of San Lang’s hand.

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

Whoa, this might have been the hardest one for me to write so far. I'm not sure what the problem was but I lacked all inspiration and motivation. BUT I was able to push myself to power through... and we have... something.

8. Diamond ring

Matty felt like his lungs were trying to climb out of his throat, drowning him on dry land as his heart beat so hard in his chest he was sure that each thudding squeeze was visible beneath his thin skin, his rib cage rattling. He blinked at George, his eyes wide and terrified as his mind whirled, trying desperately to make sense of the scene before him.

They were on a break in the tour, and Matty had announced the night before he planned on spending the next day rotting away in bed. He would be getting up to use the restroom and that was it, content to spend the day reading and writing and most importantly sleeping. His back hurt and his knee hurt and he didn’t intend to make any kind of movements he didn’t need to. He was to become one with his mattress.

George had laughed and kissed his forehead when he climbed out of bed that morning, and promised that he would return with breakfast. Matty hadn’t expected George to bring him tea in one of the good cups, hadn’t expected his toast to be on an actual plate instead of wrapped in a paper towel, balanced on a tray he hadn’t even realized they owned, a flower from their garden in a bud vase they had been sent by Amazon on accident.

But that wasn’t what had caught Matty’s eye. In the middle of the tray sat a robin’s egg blue ring box, an infinity band of diamonds nestled amongst the velvet. Matty felt like he was going to throw up as he forced himself to meet George’s eyes, his hand reaching out on his own accord to pick up the box, holding it up to his face, rubbing his fingers along the Tiffany & Co. embossed on the lid, afraid to touch the ring, the diamond ring in case it wasn’t what he was thinking, in case this was some kind of sick joke. 

“George,” he said, his voice cracking, overcome with emotion as George stood over him grinning, before dropping down to one knee. Matty’s stomach lurched, this was really happening. 

“So,” said George, his own voice trembling, “I know that you know that we’re in this together, forever and that we don’t need a shiny rock or a piece of paper, to tell us that. But Matty, you’re my partner, my other half, my soulmate, and even if we don’t need it, I want that piece of paper that says we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.” 

George swallowed hard and Matty realized he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“And, you’ve always been a bit of a diva, so I figured, if I was getting a piece of paper, that said you were stuck with me forever, it only seemed fair that you got the shiny rock.” George took a deep breath, as if he thought there was some chance that Matty would say no, “So, will you marry me?” 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[shellysaurus-rex]

tfw i spent most of today reblogging fe oc stuffs (oops) instead of drawing for the joy prompt in oc week (oops)

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up