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#touch prompt
squeeneyart · 1 year
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If you're still taking sketch requests, I would love to see your Jon and Martin #47 kiss
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[Image description: a greyscale digital drawing of Jonathan Sims, a thin, dark-skinned man with light choppy hair and various scars in a white tank top and sweatpants, and Martin Blackwood, a fat, light-skinned man with long light hair in a black t-shirt and bottoms. Jon lays on a bed, half-twisting away from Martin who is kissing Jon's stomach where the tank top has rolled up. Jon buries part of his own laughing face in his own forearm and uses his free hand to push at Martin's head . End ID]
guys bein dudes dudes bein gay
And 47, tummy kisses, wraps up the bunch of em. Thanks for the prompt!
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masterqwertster · 4 months
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Maybe 20. From the touching prompt list: bandaging/stitching up an injury. Do you think Ashton can get stitches with his skin?
No, I don't really think Ashton can get stitches. Not unless you're using, like, an industrial needle meant for poking through a lot of tough fabric. And even that feels a little iffy given the strength requisite to punch through means you're kind of running the risk of just straight up stabbing them with the needle and making things worse. But I have had a solution to No Stitches sitting on the headcanon backburner for a long while, so I'm thankful for the motivation to flesh it out. Also, this is going in Metamorphic
Sealant for My Wounds
Ashton is 13, almost 14, the first time he gets stabbed.
The wound sluggishly bleeds their wine-dark blood as they hold a cloth against it, listening to the others argue about how one is supposed to apply stitches.
“You've got to dip the needle in booze!” Zeeland insists.
“No, the booze is for the pain,” Sally argues.
“Yeah, you're supposed to put the needle in fire,” Bennet agrees.
“What?! No! Are you trying to burn them too?”
“We at least need hot water to clean the wound, yeah?” That one gets a general murmur of agreement.
Ashton lets the chatter about the best way to handle this wash over them. 
It fucking hurts. A throbbing in his side with every heartbeat. The pressure to minimize the amount of blood escaping his body. He’s never been hurt like this before. A hurt that sinks into him, past the surface of his skin. Deeper than a scratch, a cut. Sharper than a bruise. What will it feel like when it’s not so immediate? Ashton doesn’t know, is half intrigued and half afraid to find out. And a little bit dreading when this will happen again. (There’s no if about it. Not in a place like Bassuras. Not when all he’s got going for him is a body that can take a hit and dish them out)
Eventually a plan of action is decided upon. The needle and thread are prepared, the wound washed, and the burn of stolen alcohol washes down Ashton’s throat. (It’s certainly distracting, that coughing burn in their throat. They’re not sure how anyone can enjoy it without being some sort of masochist)
Jeto has the needle while the rest of the group has hands on Ashton to hold him down. Getting stitches isn’t supposed to be a comfortable process, yet it’s one that the patient should hold still for. And they know that Ashton, despite his slighter frame, can out muscle any one of them.
It’s a tense moment as Aston waits for the first tug of a needle through skin. A moment that stretches… and stretches… and stretches, even as they can feel hands at their side, pressing against the wound, causing it to spark with pain.
“Just fucking start already,” Ashton grouses, getting impatient for it to be over already.
“I’m trying! The needle’s not going through your fucking skin!” Jeto snipes back frustratedly.
“...What?” Ashton whispers, fear slithering down his spine. If he can’t get stitches, how the fuck are they going to hold the stab wound shut so it can heal right?
“Just gimma a sec. Probably just need the right angle or something– Fuck. Shit. Piss,” Jeto curses, hands moving away.
“Jeto?” Ashton asks nervously.
“You’re fine. Needle’s just bent. Shit.”
Fuck fuck fuck. Is Ashton going to have a hole in their side for forever? They can’t close the damn stab wound without stitches!
“Give me the needle. I’ll do it myself, since you’re weak as shit,” Ashton panics, already pushing against the hands holding him down.
“First off, rude. Secondly, this isn’t about strength. Anyone else, and I could have jabbed the needle all the way in with the kind of strength I was using,” Jeto testily explains. “No, the problem here is you’re a fucking rock person and our needle isn’t gonna punch through rock.”
Ashton stills at those words, fears confirmed. 
“...What do we do?” The words slip out, quiet and scared.
“Keep an eye on it and hope the caretakers give a fuck if it gets infected or some shit,” Jeto says in a practical tone with a shrug.
And they do. But it’s so fucking slow to heal, while any sharp moves or blows cause it to start bleeding again.
Ashton doesn’t find a solution until he’s left on the ground after a fight, watching his dark blood bind the dirt and sand into mud. Some strange instinct that never existed in him before insists he gather the earth bound in his escaped blood and return the whole mix to the wound it left. His rational mind screams that this is stupid and exactly how wounds get infected. But packing and plugging the wound with something to stop the bleeding isn’t that stupid. And at the worst, the wound will get infected and the caretakers will throw a fit about having to get a proper healer to fix him up.
And Ashton is an earth genasi, so maybe…
He follows the instinct. Scoops up the almost clay-like slurry and presses it into the aging stab wound, into the larger gashes this recent fight has left him with. 
It doesn’t feel bad. (It feels right. The earth returning their strength, their health)
He doesn’t tell the others what he did. Ashton doesn’t want the lecture, the arguments, the proclamations of idiocy. It’s not like they know how Ashton’s body really works anyways. Sure, it’s the same shape as a half-elf’s, but they’ve all already seen that the stone composition of it changes things. So who the fuck gave them the right to judge?
The others find out. Of course they do. 
But by the time they know, Ashton’s already found that those strange instincts were correct. Their blood mud sealed the wound, stopping the bleeding reopenings of the injury. And weird as it fucking is, their body seems to be integrating the mud, compressing and shoring it up into the same stone as the rest of them. Even small cuts heal faster with blood mud.
They call it fucking weird and strange (and creepy behind his back), but Ashton can’t find that he necessarily disagrees, even if it does make a strange sort of sense given his elemental nature. Mostly he’s just glad to have a solution for when he needs stitches.
So yeah. While I thought of the "blood mud to seal wounds" way before the titan blood reveal (actually back around when I first started writing Rockin' It, back during the Museum Heist), at this point, I'm kind of inclined to make it a titan blood thing. Ashton is just so wholly of the earth because of the titan blood that shoving dirt/mud in their wounds is helpful, like slip or sealant or daub.
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notrattus · 1 year
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can i request a touch prompt 48 with matt murdock please??? i would love to dance with hims <3
thank you so much for leaving a matt request!! this makes me so happy i hope this drabble is decent- (i feel a little rusty writing him but i love doing it)
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matt murdock x gn!reader
48; dancing with each other
this is the first thing ive written after a month or maybe two so please bear with if it isn’t shining quality </3 ive been too busy!!
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“I did try to tell you.” Comes a voice from over your left shoulder, monotone and velvety. You sigh through your nose and roll your eyes. “I know, Matt.” His lips upturn at the sound of your sour tone, as if he can see the look on your face. You struggle not to smile too at the way his cheeks dimple.
“But we really need to get going, I’m not trying to spend the night here.” By ‘here’ you of course mean the law firm the two of you have spent all day in, starting before the sun rose and finishing after it set. Matt shrugs and taps his cane twice in the space between his feet. “I suppose you’re right, we don't really have the equipment for a sleepover.”
“But we really need to get going, I’m not trying to spend the night here.” By ‘here’ you of course mean the law firm the two of you have spent all day in, starting before the sun rose and finishing after it set. Matt shrugs and taps his cane twice in the space between his feet. “I suppose you’re right, we don't really have the equipment for a sleepover.”
“And we don’t have umbrellas either apparently.” You try one last hopeless search through your bag before really giving up and clicking your tongue, vexed and overtired. The hammer of the rain grows louder and you start to think, albeit irrationally, that it’s purposefully taunting you.
Matt takes a step closer and places his hand on your shoulder, his large palm radiating a type of comforting warmth that dances its way down your arm. He squeezes gently, his fingertips a soft and reassuring press. “Well, you have plenty of dry clothes back at your place don't you?” He asks, somewhat rhetorical with a hint of playfulness in his tone.
“Yeah? Why does that-“ you begin, cut off by the clicking of Matt folding up his cane and shoving it in an inside pocket of his blazer. From what you understand he doesn’t need it much anyway.
“Then let’s go, the longer we wait the worse it might get after all, sweetheart.” He pushes his glasses up his nose before grabbing both your hand and the door handle, stretched between you and it. He raises his brows at you in asking his silent question, the start of a simper tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“That’s true I guess. Alright,” you squeeze his hand “Let’s go.”
It only takes a second for the two of you to stumble out of the door, taking haphazard footsteps on wet concrete. The rain immediately seeks out the tepidness of your body while you fumble to lock the door behind you, the impact of each droplet feeling like a dull thud through the fabric of your clothes.
When you turn to Matt he is standing stiff as ever, arms folded over his toned chest with chin tilted down, trying to keep the rain off of his face. There are already droplets gathering on the surface of his red lenses. He smiles, asking “Got it?” He knows you did, he heard each pin in the lock click. You nod before realising your mistake.
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You rush over your words, lifting an arm to shield your eyes from the downpour. Matt scoffs, not rudely as his grin doesn’t falter. “Well yes, you will, but I’m not having you walk home alone in this weather.”
Matt reaches for you, a hand cautiously searching the air before finding your shoulder and anchoring there. “Come on, I’ll let you lead the way.” An instruction, not an offer.
You shrug and his hand drops to your upper arm, it’s usual home, and you could swear you feel his encompassing warmth fighting off the chill of the evening.
You set a steady pace towards your side of Hell’s Kitchen, it’s only a short walk so a low effort jog should suffice rather than embarrassing yourself by running up to the building. You would run if it wasn’t for the nosey old lady on the fifth floor who is always looking out of her window, with any luck everyone in the complex would know that you came bounding in with a man on your arm by morning.
Luckily Matt doesn’t seem to mind this, his patience always outlasting your own. He remains silent at your side but his lips upturn just a little every time you hastily instruct him to dodge a puddle, or to watch his step over the soaked curb. At a quick glance he almost looks like he’s having fun wading through this weather with you.
Your clothes are already soaked through to the skin by the time you reach the cobbled courtyard that faces your building, with stray hairs stuck flat to your forehead and puddles forming in your shoes. You notice the one window on the fifth floor that is the only one buzzing with yellow light and attempt to separate from Matt, tapping his hand twice where it sits on your arm as a prompt to let go.
“Well, this is my stop.” You stutter through a shiver, feeling something foreign in your chest when Matt frowns. His hand slowly slides down the length of your arm when you turn away from his hold, the tips of your shoes touching his own. “Thank you for walking back with me.”
He takes a gentle hold of your hand, squeezing once and running a calloused thumb over your softer knuckles. “No need to thank me, I actually kind of enjoyed the walk.” Matt smiles through his words, a drop of rainwater running down the bridge of his nose and dripping off its pert tip.
“Though, before you go, can I try something really quick? Since we’re both already drenched?”
With a delicate, guiding hold he lifts your hand up to his shoulder, placing it at the juncture of his neck and trap. You hum, wiping the round red lenses of his glasses with the thumb of your other hand.
“Go on then, but if I catch a cold you’ll be taking the blame.” Matt barks a small laugh, a rich, honeyed sound that makes something flutter in your stomach. “Alright, I think I can live with that.”
His tentative hands come to rest at your waist, the pads of his thumbs pressing snug against your sodden clothes. You cross your wrists at the nape of his neck and wait expectantly in the following beat of silence. Though he doesn’t keep you waiting for long.
Matt takes a starting step forward, his foot threading into the gap between both of yours. You follow back as he keeps forward, building an easy rhythm of paces taken carefully on wet stone. It’s a little clumsy, sure, but eventually you each find some confidence in your movements.
With his grip steady on your hips Matt guides you to turn in time with your feet, a delicate sway that has you leaning into him. You titter, watching your hasty steps while the rain taptaptaps on the crown of your head.
“You know,” you start, a smile pulling at your lips. “If you wanted to dance with me you could’ve just said so, Matt.” He hums, turning quicker so that you fall forward to his chest. “That’s true enough but,” his hand at your hips snakes around to hold your waist, keeping you pressed flush to him.
“If I had told you what I was planning you might have said no, but instead I knew a mysterious question would keep you out here longer, even if it meant staying in the damp.”
Like with most things he says it very matter-of-factly, keeping his chin up as if proud of his reasoning. You chuckle, shaking your head while Matt leads you into a slow spin.
“Well I don’t want to break your heart or anything,” you begin, trailing your hands back over the man’s strong shoulders and down to rest on his chest. “But I really should get inside now.” Matt’s lips twitch, fighting off a frown before he nods and brings your little dance to a stop. “I understand, sorry for keeping you longer, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Well yes, you will,” you mimic, your impersonation skills lacking. “But you know what, I might even have enough dry clothes for two, if that is of any interest to you?”
His smile is immediate, infectious too.
“That depends, has your place got enough room for another dance?” Matt quirks his head toward you, left brow raised in a pretty arch.
“Yes, I think it just about does.”
The light on the fifth floor is still beaming when you drag Matt to the door and somewhere in the back of your mind you’re hoping your neighbours might turn out to be fans of ‘Singing in the Rain’…
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prompt list || masterlist
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therealvikingstrash · 2 years
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Can you pretty please work your magic on this one for Ubbe/Hvitty? feeling for each other in the dark 🥰
The magic of hurt you mean 🤣 but to answer your question, yes, I can 😘 it should be noted that @adrille88 asked for the same prompt within a couple hours, which cracked me up a ton xD I love our hivemind sometimes, latching onto something and declaring it an Ubbe/Hvitserk thing 😂
for everyone against incest: you better not read, this dove is very dead.
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When Hvitserk grew up, he was used to being surrounded by his brothers. He was used to Ivar begging to be taken with them and Sigurd tagging along without even asking. There was not much he could do about it, as it would make him a hypocrite seeing as he followed Ubbe wherever his big brother went. 
And yet, it was still different as he shared a bed with Ubbe every night, how his brother looked back in an encouraging way, as if to tell him to hurry up and come with. Hvitserk didn't think he felt the same way about Ivar and Sigurd, as Ubbe did about him. There was this unspoken bond between them that should frighten Hvitserk with its intensity, but he didn't shy away- embraced the confusing feeling of excitement whenever Ubbe was close enough to touch. The prickling need to.
Some nights they fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed before Hvitserk found himself reaching out to take hold of his brother's tunic or let his fingertips brush over the warm skin of Ubbe's forearm. If he concentrated enough, Hvitserk was able to feel the prickling that reminded him of the loaded air before Thor would swing his hammer on a rainy day, could feel his brother long before he would make contact. 
The older they got, the less room they would have between them in their bed, but there were days Hvitserk would say or do something that aggravated Ubbe and he refused to apologize before they went to bed. Those following nights were worse than someone sitting on his chest with their full weight, stealing Hvitserk's breath at how careful Ubbe was to not touch his younger brother at any point. Only when the last of their candles had burned down and the night had gotten so dark he could not see what was before his eyes, he would reach out to touch Ubbe's back tentatively. 
It was always Hvitserk at night, Ubbe had no qualms pulling him in or squeezing his neck during the day. Even boldly brushed his lips against Hvitserk's cheek in front of everyone. This made him wonder at times, if people could see the nature of their relationship. He was sure Ivar had an inkling in the way he sometimes eyed them when he thought Hvitserk wouldn't see. Judging them.
At night though, when he overcame his stubbornness and the need to be close to Ubbe was unbearable, Hvitserk bit his lower lip in anticipation, listening to the soft puffs his brother breathed into his pillow before his palm met the place between Ubbe's shoulder blades. His back was bare of clothing, the summer heat making it unbearable to dress in much of anything. He didn't make any sound to acknowledge Hvitserk and so he moved closer to Ubbe, leaning his forehead against his brother's neck after brushing the long hair out of the way and whispering his apology against the heated skin as his hand found Ubbe's waist, squeezing lightly to wake him in case he hadn't heard.
A low rumble let him know though, followed by Ubbe taking hold of his hand and pulling it over to cause Hvitserk to lie flush against his older brother's back. He didn't stop though, didn't put Hvitserk's hand somewhere near his heart like usual and instead kissed his knuckles reassuringly. "You're a fool," Ubbe slurred, entwining their fingers to caress Hvitserk's palm with his thumb softly which prompted him to press himself even closer, stealthily kissing the skin of Ubbe's neck for as long as he could get away with it. 
So far, Ubbe had never told him off, but Hvitserk feared the day he would, feared how Ubbe would push him away to get rid of him and wouldn't allow him to come close anymore. "I know," Hvitserk replied, not wanting the gloomy thoughts of their possible separation to take over his mind. "Forgive me?" He asked, uncertain of how Ubbe would respond.
His brother turned, causing Hvitserk to move out of the way and lean up on his elbow. Even though he could not see his brother, he still looked down in hopes to find Ubbe's eyes to gauge his reaction. It was no use, but his brother must've intended the same thing, as his hand made careful contact with Hvitserk's face. Ubbe's fingertips danced over the roundness of his cheek and down to his chin to take a hold of it. 
And then there was his brother's hot breath ghosting over Hvitserk's bitten raw and sensitive lips. When Ubbe's nose brushed against his, he was certain his heart stopped momentarily before his lips were captured, not longer than the blink of an eye though, "Always." His older brother promised, laying his own feelings bare, how unable he was to stay angry at Hvitserk no matter how idiotic he had acted.
He fell asleep with his hand over Ubbe's heart, feeling it thump a steady drum in his chest that Hvitserk's own heart tried to mirror once it had stopped stumbling. 
Years passed and Hvitserk still reached out into the dark beside him, always when it's darkest and he longed the most for Ubbe. The cold sheets were the only thing he met in his search for the familiar warmth. His sleep-addled mind not catching up fast enough that he was a resident in Alfred's home now, far away from Kattegat and even further from Ubbe. He didn't think the vast space between them would close even if they embraced each other. 
Hvitserk rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow, hoping his screams would be muffled, hoping he would suffocate when the full weight of his doing hit him at once and he could not deal with the pain in his heart. Always.
Perhaps Ubbe had forgiven him, but he didn't want him close anymore. Missing his brother felt worse than getting clean had, the pain in his body had stopped some day, but the one in his heart would be there until it gave out. He did wonder though, if on some nights Ubbe expected to feel Hvitserk's fingertips to brush against his back in a question and if he was as disappointed when it didn't happen as Hvitserk was when he reached into the empty space next to him at night. He wished Ubbe was missing him as much as he was hoping his older brother didn't have to live with such hurt in equal parts.
It was one of those nights he wanted Ubbe to ache for him as much as Hvitserk did and he couldn't find it within himself to be ashamed of that. Wiping over his eyes he turned back to his original sleeping spot and stared out of his window into the dark and cloudy sky. Missing the days he was annoyed by his many brothers, the easy times and soft smiles their mother would regard them with. He hated England for its many pitchblack nights the longer he stayed. Because of those, it was impossible to forget the need to reach out to his beloved brother.
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touch prompt list
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Touch Starved Prompts
It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.
Like magnets they moved together, pressing into each other's warmth.
There always needed to be a reason, an excuse for their bodies to touch.
Being touch-starved and needy was really starting to mess with their reputation as a tough guy.
It was like their skin was calling out for the other's gentle touch.
They didn't like to be touched by just anyone. But that didn't mean they didn't also crave it sometimes.
A coldness took over their body that only the warmth of another person could erase.
They wanted to be touched, to be missed, to be loved. Was that too much to ask for?
Leaning onto each other, just being close, was enough.
Their bodies fitting together like they always were intended to become one.
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euthymiaaa · 3 months
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— subtle physical affection prompts 𓆩♡𓆪
i hope everyone is having a great new year so far! enjoy :D
pushing strands of their hair out of their face
brushing the dust of their clothes
wiping off a food stain near their lips (bonus: you lick it off your fingers)
briefly tracing the lines of their palms
patiently helping them put their shoes on
teasingly playing with the string of their hoodie
nose boops
comparing hand sizes
accidentally grazing their hands as both of you are reaching for the same object
gentle massages for their shoulders
delicately putting your hand on their back
playful stabs with your fingers onto the side of their waist
ever so light forehead pecks
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novelbear · 1 year
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“say you won’t let go” - some touch starved scenarios
prompt list by @novelbear
heart pounding whenever the other does so much as to hold onto their wrist while guiding them through a crowd
one just casually sitting down on the other's lap and they start internally freaking the hell out
hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters
^^ the other notices so they pull them into a hug, smiling as they just watch them melt
"wait, don't go, please.."
"is this okay?" "it's more than okay."
already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't
wearing the others' clothes so that it can at least feel like they're hugging them, even for just a moment
feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there
^ trying and failing to hold back their tears as they do so
"can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."
when the other holds onto their waist briefly as they're passing by and it just send chills down their spine
breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much
their breath hitching whenever the other gets a little closer
^ feeling crushed when that action is taken as a sign of discomfort, and they watch them slowly back off
holding onto a stuffed animal/pillow, imagining that it's their lover in their embrace instead
one leaning their head onto the other's shoulder suddenly and they just freeze
"i wasn't sure how much longer i could have taken this..."
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scealaiscoite · 1 year
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touch-starved prompts ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱
— “can… can i have a hug? please?”
— “oh, sweetheart- come here.”
— “how long has it been since someone hugged you?”
— “just hold me.”
— “is this okay?”
— “we don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to. we can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”
— “can i hug you? you look like you could do with it.”
— “are you blushing?! that’s adorable.”
— “it’s okay, baby, just let it all out. i’ve got you, i promise.”
— “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.”
— “please, never apologise for wanting to be loved.”
— “you don’t need to earn my affection, not now and not ever.”
— “i’m never more at peace than i am in your arms.”
— “not that i think cuddling will fix everything, but i’m pretty sure it can’t make things worse.”
— “i never knew i could feel this loved.”
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bluerosefox · 5 months
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Joker Messed Around and Found Freaking Out.
Okay hear me out..
Class trip to Gotham, class gets held up by Joker who actually can scare the class cause they are still teens and they know Joker has a high kill rate, like yes they're used to ghosts and junk but none of them wanna die yet or at least die outside of Amity, if they die they wanna have a chance of coming back as a ghost at the very least.
Anyways, Danny feels pure dread when Joker takes Jazz hostage, who was elected to be a chaperone for Danny's class since her volunteering would look good on college recommendations, and finds her little mutters about his mental health reminding him of Harley before she left him. He even jokes about needing a new partner and wonders how long it'll take to break her like he did to Harley.
Danny is frozen in his spot but something snaps when he hears Jazz cry out after Joker backhands her. Before anyone, even the Bats, realize it Danny is on top of the Joker beating his face in, he only gets up once, takes Joker's discarded crowbar and slams it over his head, barely grazing the dazed man but it does destroy the flooring behind him, while screaming to never ever touch his sister. That he will destroy Joker if he even thinks about coming after her. That even in the afterlife he'll never be safe from him.
All this happens so fast that by the time the Jocks from Danny's school, Red Hood and Nightwing get Danny off, Joker is beaten badly. He's still feral screaming at Joker though, calling him everything under the sun, spouting off about how the dead are ready to rip him apart when Joker (or you can have Danny call him by his actual name if you wanna strike some "the fuck? How'd he know that?") Finally passes away, that even death will not save him from Danny's wrath. Danny is squirming hard in their holds, nearly breaks free a few times when he hears Joker groaning, but only stops when Jazz, after getting looked over by Red Robin comes running over and just..
Hugs Danny.
And like a kitten getting scuffed by the neck he goes limp. Just breathes heavily, eyes burning from anger, fear, tears, and relief, before he returns the hug. He starts crying and mutters low that he can't lose her, that he almost lost her again and "is this even a fraction how Dan felt when he lost you?"
And Jazz just shushes him and does what she can to comfort him...
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marlynnofmany · 2 years
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A friend of mine had this idea, and I’d love to see it in an urban fantasy: magic is real and it stays secret because it looks like bad CGI. The fakest thing ever.
People who witness magic in person can always have their minds clouded, as they have been for most of human history, but all this newfangled technology has to be handled a different way. A video camera records exactly what it sees.
So, what it sees is … something that looks laughably fake. For any time period. The various secret magicians of the world make a point to keep their spells up to date with the current mundane trends — some of them even have running contests for who can make the most fake-looking spell.
I imagine they have a great time doing it. I sure would.
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 9
Au where the accident happened when Danny was like, 7 and Danny starts to see his parents are really crappy people. Like full narcissists. Luckly hes young enough that the conditioning hasn't set in and he's just mad about it
Tired of being talked over, ignored, neglected, guilt tripped and otherwise emotionally abused, he wanders around the ghost zone to vent his frustrations through combat. Eventually a fortune teller/seer/oracle ghost makes him an offer, a fraction of his power in return for finding the family he seeks. He agrees and she tells him his birth fathers name is Jason Peter Todd and that he will require proof to believe this.
She then punts him into the portal that opened up behind him.
Danny seeks out Jason, excited for a family who might actually care about him. But when he finds him he remembers the ladys words and decided he needed to steal some of his dads hair for a dna test so he'll have proof both to prove to himself that the lady wasn't just messing with him and to show Jason. The problem was that Jason was a ridiculously light sleeper and kept waking up to Danny standing in the doorway/ at the foot of his bed/ next to his bed/ or invisible and making the room cold out of frustration.
Jason is freaking out cause he thinks hes hallucinating his child self standing in doorways and around his bed at night.
...and when he discovers the truth he has violent flashbacks to when he was searching for his birth mother and how that ended. So hes like extra overprotective of the kid that he suddenly can't freaking find cause he scared the crap outta him earlier thinking it was a demon/ manifestation of his trauma or something
Bruce and his flock are not coming within 500 feet of his kid
Unfortunately, Danny discovers that Jason is a crime lord as well as some of the horrible things he had done and thinks Jason is worse than his adoptive parents. It probably doesn't help that Jason threatened him and scared him off before finding out who the kid was.
Now Danny is trying to silence his sobbing (and failing) outside inthe Gotham rain. He's terrified and one of the other bats find him and they wind up chasing him around as a group because this kid is so slippery and obviously terrified.
Who would have thought that the only person he would be willing to talk to Robin, a fellow kid
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nerdpoe · 7 months
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guys i'm sorry i've been struck with a crack prompt idea and i have to write it you don't udnerSTADN
Danny accidentally bumps into Pandora's box.
He immediately closes it! It was closed immediately! Super quick! NBD!!!
Except one plague hopped out in that half second it was open.
Danny doesn't even realize he caught it until he pops back to the Mortal realm and goes into his human form.
He passes the mirror in the lab and....those are cat ears. That's a cat tail.
His hands shake.
Maybe it's just him. Maybe he can plead being a meta.
He takes out his phone and checks the news.
In the two hours he's been gone, roughly half the population of humans on the planet are now cursed with cat ears and cat tails.
Justice League is looking into a way to reverse the curse.
Danny looks at the mirror and goes ghost.
Completely human.
Goes human.
Cat ears and cat tail.
Meanwhile, in another state, Jason barricades himself in his apartment.
None of them can ever find out. None of them can ever find out. NONE OF THEM CAN EVER FIN-
Jason thinks he's the only bat who woke up with cat ears and a cat tail.
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masterqwertster · 4 months
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Can you please do 31. (doing a pinky swear) with FCG and your choice for the other person?
I'm always a sucker for writing FCG with Ashton. This one is geared towards my Accidental Ascension AU, but honestly half-fits canon given Ashton does have (currently) unawakened titan powers and their barely understood half-beacon brain.
“Promise me you won’t go tryin’ to continue the titan’s fight with the gods now that you’ve got more power,” Fresh Cut Grass begs their best friend.
“Wasn’t even on my mind,” Ashton reassures them.
“Pinky promise?” FCG asks, metal digit extended.
“Sure. I promise I won’t fight a god unless they try to fuck us over first,” Ashton agrees, stone rattling against steel as he hooks the aeormaton’s pinky with his own.
The little robit pumps their connected hands. 
“And don’t you dare forget,” FCG says with a satisfied nod.
“I won’t,” Ashton grins back.
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therealvikingstrash · 2 years
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Please may I request #9 "listening to the other’s heartbeat" - with anyone you fancy!
Hey love! 💕
Oh look, I'm finally starting to answer the prompts in my inbox. Who would've thought >.> clearly not me. Under the cut you will find a short Vikings: Valhalla fic with an attempted Liv/Yrsa pairing which I hope is okay? 😅 Also, this is my first fic in the V:V fandom o.o I hope I kind of managed to catch Liv's voice.
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The biting cold wind rumpled Liv's hair and nipped at her ears, as their ship glided through the open water at night. With another fruitless attempt, she swiped at her hair, hoping it would stay out of her face once she'd snuggled into her fur coat. 
Máni's light shone down upon them and Liv took in her sleeping friend's faces. She noticed Leif was still steering their ship, unable to leave it to the Gods to guide them. Sometimes she wished his faith was as strong as Freydis', near her Liv felt almost invincible- blessed by the Gods. "You need to rest," Yrsa's sleep-rough voice reminded her and Liv turned her attention towards her, catching the concern in her friend's eyes that she wasn't able to hide properly. 
"It's too cold and the wind keeps teasing me with my own hair," she replied in a hushed tone as to not wake the others, her annoyance not hidden at all. "Clearly I am not supposed to sleep." Liv stated, meeting the kind eyes of her friend that regarded her carefully. Back home in Greenland, both Leif and her parents were sure Liv and him belonged together, but it had been Yrsa's enthusiasm to leave that caught her in a whirlwind of excitement and not his. Her loyalty to her friends had her joining the crew without another thought- leaving her parents behind in Greenland. 
They'd mourned her before she'd even stowed her belongings away.
Although, not only loyalty, but she was also afraid of being separated from Yrsa, of not being able to talk or hear her friends laugh and not being able to reach out to touch her to remind herself she was really there. This fear had gripped Liv's heart tightly and caused her to lose her breath momentarily at the thought.
No, she did not want to be without Yrsa, she'd concluded, and thus packed her things to prepare for their journey. For days Liv was debating what to take and what she would leave behind for her parents to remember her by.
"Don't be a fool," Yrsa tutted, a slightly tired smile tugging at her lips before she lifted the furs she'd wrapped herself in for Liv to cuddle up to her. "The Gods want you to be strong and alert, or else Máni would've let me sleep," her friend countered and Liv lost herself a little in the love that met her in Yrsa's gaze, knowing it was not the same as her own even though she'd hoped there was more to it. She nudged Liv softly, "Hurry or all the warmth is lost."
With her friends' encouragement Liv shuffled closer, letting herself be pulled in by Yrsa until her head lay on her friend's chest and feeling her ears warm up immediately. Finally the wind stopped bothering her, safe and shielded by the only person that tripped her heart up into a stumble with her mere presence.
And yet, with all the comfort she was given, sleep would not come to take her away as she listened to Yrsa's steady heartbeat. Each breath her friend took caused Liv's head to rise and fall with it. Under different circumstances it would lull her to sleep easily, but not so now. 
From her position, she could still see Leif, could see him watching and furrowing his brows at their closeness. Liv knew he would never understand how she felt, what she felt for Yrsa and why she never answered any questions about their families joining by marriage. She knew she had to, eventually, as it was their families wish, but for now she could listen to Yrsa's heart thumping a song she longed to hear every night for the rest of her life.
Escaping Leif's critical gaze, Liv closed her eyes to will herself to sleep, feeling Yrsa's hand squeezing her shoulder in reassurance and thereby pulling her closer still before she managed to drift off into a world where she could be someone else.
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touch prompt list
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Text
Love Languages
Physical Touch
Expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection.
hugging - just random, to give energy, to breathe them in
holding hands every chance they have
sitting close together, touching each other
gently massaging their partner
casually putting a hand on the other's body
pulling their partner on their lap
dancing together
being their big spoon
casually kissing their partner
warming their partner up by rubbing their body
running hands through their hair
cuddling on the couch together
letting them lay their head on their partner's lap
squeezing their knee in a public setting
pushing hair back behind the other’s ear
initiating sex and paying attention to their partner's preferences
More: Seeking out physical affection | Hand-holding | Hugs | Kisses | Touching | Cute interactions
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polter-heist · 1 year
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Dp x Dc prompt 7
(most likely a limital!amity park)
a feud between Amity Park residents and the Justice League but it's one sided.
any time an Amity Parker goes out of town and ends up in a location where the Justice League gets called or any member gets called, an Amity Parker Will Take Care Of It.
Amity Parkers have dropped-kicked Lex Luther, ganged up on the Joker, punted Mister Mind, and more.
The Justice League and Villains are desperately trying to find out What Their Problem Is for different reasons.
When confronted, the answers vary but a concerning consistency is "If our dead teenage superhero can take care of world-ending threats by himself, we can take care of the little things."
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