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#possible writing prompt
magicspace114 · 5 months
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If you run into a mirror maze while chased by a vampire, is that an advantage or disadvantage? Like who is that more terrifying for?
The vampire has no reflection so you have no idea where they are at any time until you're face to face with them but alternatively, they can't see if a mirror is in front of them and is probably constantly bumping into them. They can see their prey from multiple angles but they can't tell which is a mirror or not because they can't see their own reflection.
If they hit a dead end, they won't make it out with just their eyes because every wall is mirroring either their prey or an empty corridor with no exit in sight. That seems like a nightmare for a highly active predator, especially if they're in a crazed state of hunger with not enough awareness to feel their way out.
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c-k-mack · 6 months
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I’ve always wondered what would happen if you got the zombies to follow you into a haunted house.
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dumplingsjinson · 1 month
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List of “the whole world has their eyes on me. me? I only have eyes for you” prompts
“Love, you’re the centre of my universe. You’re the reason why I just am.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure; no one catches my attention quite like you do.”
“The only person I’m willing to fall in love with, over and over again, is you.”
“You’re the only person I see, even with my eyes closed; even when the world around me fades to pitch black.”
“With you, I see a forever I’ve never envisioned before. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s more because I wasn’t able to… At least until I met you.”
“Out of all the people you could have fallen in love with, you’d think I’d be the last person on that list. Not even that, I shouldn’t have even been on the list.”
“The thing is, no matter what you’ve done… I just can’t seem to keep myself away from you.”
“Your eyes are lingering again.” “Is there a problem with that?” 
“Why me?” “…There’s no rhyme or reason to why it’s you. It just is you.”
“You have all these people who’d literally die to be with you, so I just don’t understand…” “Well, they aren’t the ones I’d want to die for. And also… They aren’t you, are they?” 
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Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation
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sleepy-writes-stuff · 1 month
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DP X DC PROMPT #27
(Time for something a little more lighthearted/found family. Could probably also make this a crack prompt instead.)
(#) = Notes at the end of post
(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.
Visitation Rights
When Danny went to list Dani/Ellie as his heir after she'd come back from her years of traveling the world, he was quickly informed that he already had one in line for the thrown.
"What? Since when?!"
The pretentious, floating eyeball looked like he wanted to be anywhere else other than here, providing information to King Phantom, but explained anyway.
"The day you officially achieved royal status, you permanently linked your being to the Infinite Realms. When this happened, however, a child was in the process of being created with the assistance of ectoplasmic runoff that's been leaking into the mortal world for centuries. As a result of your power being incorporated into the Realms at such a time, this human child retained an imprint of your core signature. The Infinite Realms itself has recognized this child as your offspring. Your... other offspring has yet to be recognized in such a way and would therefore be considered your second heir once claimed."
Danny stared at the Observant with wide, blank eyes that were slowly filling with dread and panic.
"Why are you just telling me this now?? My coronation was over a decade ago!" He held his face in his hands and gave a horrified groan at what he just learned.
"If you really wanted that clone as your heir, I'm afraid it's too late to change it-"
Danny's head shot back up with a snarl and furious green eyes.
"That's not what I'm upset about you walking cataracts! Eleven years! I've missed eleven years of this kid's life!! How could you think I-"
At a loss for words, he growled deep in his chest. Deep enough that it echoed throughout the halls and rattled the floors.
"Who is this kid, and where can I find them?"
Once given the information and learning of the child's other parental figures, he gets to work. A few weeks later, he appears in the home office of a well-known billionaire with a stack of papers that he promptly slams onto the desk in front of the startled man. (1)
"I demand visitation rights to our son, Damian Wayne."
(1) Danny actually visited Talia first to get visitation rights. Needless to say, that didn't go very well. He's still got a couple knives floating around in his chest cavity because of it.
(*) ALSO! I'm not sure how this lines up with the DC/Batman timeline. All I figured out is that if Danny waited to be crowned until after he graduated college as an astrophysicist, which take 5 to 7 years, he'd be about 36 years old when he finds out about Damian. Bruce would be about 41, so the age gap is only 5 years. If y'all wanna make this Danny/Bruce, go ahead!
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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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hughmanbean · 2 months
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The Moon Looks Back
As a child, Bruce liked to stargaze with his parents. It was something that connected them, and soothed him in a way hard to describe.
That hadn't changed, after the night in the alley, when he went soul searching, or even when he took up the cape. It certainly hadn't stopped after all these years, with all of his children beside him.
During his trek around the world, he regarded the moon as a sort of companion, ever-changing but consistent. It stuck with him, even just by existing.
He stargazes less often, of course, with everything he does nowadays. But he still takes time to look at the night sky, constellations and childhood friend still there.
Of course, he didn't know that it was actually alive. And he'd really of appreciated if he didn't have to learn that while stranded in space.
---
It was nice to just relax when things got a bit difficult. The moon was a nice little cove for Danny to just decompress and watch the world go by.
One such benefit was that he could see those who looked to him as the moon. The grandfather of a family, watching the sky as the kids go to sleep, the couple on a late night date, and the astronomers that study the stars.
Amongst them, one Bruce Wayne stood out. In the beginning, just the child of a wealthy family, though after the death of his parents he continued to look to Danny. Every once in a while, Danny would sense Bruce, in some drastically different location and situation.
Eventually, he seemed to settle back down in Gotham. Though not without a few new habits, so to speak.
Now, this was an opportunity to finally talk face to face. After all, it wasn't everyday he got the chance to speak to such an interesting stargazer in person.
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red-hoods-left-sock · 10 months
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The idea of Danny phantom in the dc universe fighting humans is so interesting because he can’t really trap them or anything like he can with ghosts, he can just full on blast them with lasers and stuff. Like, if you blast a ghost with an echo blast the ghost just gets back up but if you blasted a human with that they would probably die or something. You can’t stuff a human in a thermos (or can you). Danny can’t fight humans because his own powers aren’t built for that.
Basically my idea is him teaming up with the justice league or the bats or something and they think he’s some low level powered being because so many of his powers just aren’t usable in the situations they end up in until the dc characters see him fight a ghost and realise just how powerful he is.
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the-forsaken-princess · 3 months
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Ok but. Using barbed wire as restraints. Keeps whumpee bound and causes pain at the same time.
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halfagone · 3 months
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Before The Wayne Came A Kane
Martha Wayne née Kane came from a very prestigious family even before she married her husband, the illustrious M.D. Thomas Wayne. Sadly, her family never supported her union with Thomas, so she largely cut them out of her life once she married and that certainly had not changed when she had a son.
Her strained relationship with the rest of her family is particularly apparent when it's revealed, at the release of her and Thomas' respective wills after their unexpected, tragic deaths, that she would not give her brothers or sisters-in-law custody of Bruce. They may be the last of his living relatives, but even in death she would never allow them to touch her baby boy. Hence, his care is left to the head butler, one Alfred Pennyworth.
She did have two sister, though. Two baby sisters, one who had been disowned and disavowed from the family long before her, named Alicia. And one who was far too young to take in her son, even if Martha had allowed it. Her name is Madeline Kane. As the only other acknowledged daughter left from Roderick and Elizabeth Kane, she is left to carry the burden of her older sister's legacy. And what a burden it was, to be constantly compared to a dead woman her family seemed to adore and loathe in strides.
It's really no wonder that the moment she gets the chance, she leaves her family in Gotham to attend a university in Wisconsin. There, she meets Jack Fenton. He can be a little clumsy sometimes, but he has an eye for engineering and doesn't like her for her family's name or wealth. He calls her "Maddie" when she says so, and he doesn't ask about the change.
She falls in love and the two are wedded in the blink of an eye, Maddie pregnant with their first child only a few years after graduation. In her family's eyes, it just further proves that any Kane daughter is cursed and doomed to failure. (Beth understands this. Bette learns this. Kate knows this.)
And all too similarly to her elder sister, when her son is just fourteen years old, she is killed: yet another unexpected, tragic death. Her husband and her daughter perish along with her. Just like her older sister, the only one left is her baby boy.
Only, Maddie wasn't nearly as forthcoming with her will, and there is no guardian marked for custody in his papers. The Kanes, who proclaim they are his rightful family, are more than happy to take advantage of this.
Bruce isn't close to his family, beyond perhaps Kate. But if there is one thing that he knows it's that his parents didn't give his estranged relatives custody of him for a reason. Alfred is stingy with the details, but he can confirm that much.
Bruce is left to fight an uphill battle, helping a mourning boy heal from his loss and fighting his extended family's attempts for custody at every turn.
More ramblings under the cut:
See this guy right here?
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This is Jacob Kane, Kate's father, Martha's brother, and Bruce's uncle. He's got the distinct red hair and do you know who else has red hair? Maddie. Jacob is a respected military officer and Maddie, in general, has always given me strong former U.S. agent vibes. But regardless, it makes sense that Maddie would know things or learned how to fight at an early age if her older brother left for military service.
Also, I just love showing Bruce's extended family and how twisted, complicated his family was long before he adopted so many children. And this also helps explain why Maddie is so cagey with her background. She only has Alicia left really, all the rest she keeps out and away for good reason.
But she can't protect Danny from them forever.
Plus, there's this really cool possibility for Danny to stay with the Kanes for a while and explore that avenue before he's ultimately brought into the Wayne fold. Danny gets to see what the upper crust Gotham elites look like with his own two eyes, beyond Sam's stories.
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fandomfuntimem · 13 hours
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"There are more of us than you think"
The ghost boy floated infront on Batman. All he wanted was to offer this kid some help. He has been deffending this town for a little over two years now with no help. So Batman just thought offering some training and other teen heros to help would be nice. But all he was met with was a cold hard stare. It wasn't a lookxof hatred, or anger, just disappointment.
"What?" He asked. For once in his life he didn't get it. What did he mean? 'There are more of us' more half ghosts like him? Multiples of him?
"What I mean Batman, is there are far more teen heros than you think. There are so many kids who were left to deffend their homes by themselves. I'm in contact with plenty of people like me. I don't need your charity work. We dont need it," Phantom took a deap breth, "so many kids had to save the world while the Justice League sat back and did nothing. Ben Tennyson has been saving the world since he was ten, a child soldier and the only effective weapon the Plumbers have. The Ninja over in Norrisville was given his powers at fourteen. Max Steel was fused with an alien and born with nuclear levels of power. The list goes on bats. Kim Possible, Jenny, Generator Rex, Zak Saturday. We all did just fine without you and your League."
Batman was speechless. That many? That many kids left to deffend their homes? Phantom obviously seemed to have contact with them, maybe they help eachother out, but still. How did the Justice League not know?
Phantom disappeared and left Batman to ponder his words alone. How many world ending events did thease kids fight? How many of them did they fight alone? How much help did each of them have? Phantom only has a niche group of allies, how small are their support groups?
He'll have to research this when he returns to the bat cave. Hopefully he can get all thease kids get the help they need. Set up Zeta Tubes in their cities, and end this awful epidemic of teen heros.
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the-broken-pen · 2 months
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“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.
They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.
Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.
“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”
The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.
The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.
For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.
Shit.
They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…
They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.
It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.
The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.
The hero would be the death of them.
They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.
“What are you doing with this?”
The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.
“Wrapping my hands?”
The villain hissed in a breath.
“With electrical tape?”
The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.
“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”
The villain blinked at them.”
“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.
“Not if you wrap it right.”
Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.
“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.
Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.
“Bandaids move—“
The villain hushed them.
“Be quiet for a second.”
The hero, wisely, went quiet.
The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.
“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.
“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”
“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”
“I’m not destroying myself—“
“You are.”
“Shut up—“
“Hero.”
“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”
They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.
“Better than who?”
“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.
The villain watched them, waiting.
The hero took a shaky breath
“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”
The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.
The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.
“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.
“No. There isn’t.”
“Hero.”
“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.
“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.
“You don’t understand—“
The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.
They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.
“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”
“But I-“
“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”
The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.
The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.
For now, though, they had to take care of hero.
“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”
The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.
“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”
That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.
“Fine.”
The villain turned to them. “Okay?”
Are you going to be alright?
The hero seemed to understand.
“Okay,” the hero agreed.
Yes.
And so, it was.
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Had a dream the other day that I am now turning into a fic prompt
During a battle, some cultivator stabs their sword through both Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe. As they lay there dying in each other’s arms, they vow to always be together even in death.
(Note: in this part of my dream, Binghe dies first and Shen Qingqiu is weakly shaking him trying to get him to wake up.)
Fast forward 1000 years, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji run into the resentful spirit Luo Binghe who can’t move on because Cang Qiong refused to bury him alongside his husband.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji must go through the remnants of Cang Qiong sect and the Demon Realm to find Shen Qingqiu’s burial spot and reunite the two lovers.
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freshdishs · 2 months
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No because I actually want to see a villain who’s both comedic and has absolutely no idea what the hell they’re doing
Like
Imagine they’re new to the city where the hero operates and they get caught in the crossfire during a fight
BUT
The villain acts on impulse and sticks their hand out to shield themselves from an attack
AND GUESS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT Y’ALL
They don’t feel like..uh..dying
So they open their eyes
AND FIND OUT THEY FRICKING BLASTED A HOLE IN A BUILDING
And the hero’s just gaping at them like 0-0 wut
So this naturally sets off a nation wide manhunt for the villain
BUT THAT’S NOT ALL FOLKS
While on the run, the villain encounters someone who treats them like a goddamn celebrity
Like this person legit idolizes their actions
The person joins the villain and becomes their self-proclaimed ‘sidekick’
Bonus points if more ‘sidekicks’ join and it becomes the most out-of-context cult(?) ever
AND ALL THE WHILE THE HERO’S CHASING THEM DOWN LIKE A MADMAN
I rest my case.
➽──────────────❥
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krenenbaker · 6 months
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Trick or Treat~!
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Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)
Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.
Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!
Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)
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Floyd wanted to take a break. 
It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 
Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  
Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 
As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  
“Trick or treat~”
Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"
A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 
“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”
Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 
This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”
The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 
Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 
"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.
"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."
Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."
He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 
"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."
Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”
Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”
Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 
Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 
Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”
"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 
With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 
What a weird guy.
Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.
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sleepy-writes-stuff · 8 months
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DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #21
Gotham's Phantom Royals
What if Sam was Lady Gotham? Just like Danny's haunt is Amity Park, what if Sam's became Gotham when she turned liminal/became a ghost?
You can't deny that she'd definitely love to call a gothic, aesthetically pleasing city with a penchant for chaos her own. I'm not sure how this would work timeline or dimension wise, but I like the imagery of her and Danny, in ghost form, going out on the town like the lovebirds they are and people catching flickering glimpses of a handsome, white-haired King lovingly escorting a beautiful woman dripping in black and violet, both decked out in their respective regalia that hints towards their stations.
The Bats have no idea what's going on, but the citizens have turned the sightings of the couple into a tourist trap and everyone is dying to know the whole love story. Some people have even come up with their own tales about them to the point that no one knows which one they want to believe most. Even Gotham's rouge gallery is completely invested, so far to the point that if the couple is seen anywhere near an ongoing takeover, everyone freezes as they watch them walk/prance/waltz across the scene with smiles and silent laughter. They never speak or look at anyone else besides each other.
It's only when one takes it a step too far and dares to try and capture the lovebirds that they find out just who they're dealing with. Never have a pair of green and purple glowing eyes turning to peer into the depths of their twisted soul felt so terrifying.
To make it even more interesting, what about making it everlasting trio? What city does Tucker haunt? Are there sightings of the three in his city too? Either way, everyone who catches a glimpse of them and their relationship is absolutely smitten with the couple/throuple and see them as peak romance.
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erisenyo · 4 months
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"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏
For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)
(Can be read as a follow-up to this)
“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”
Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.
“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”
Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.
It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.
“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”
Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.
“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”
Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…
“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”
Hakoda does have some questions about that.
That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...
“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”
“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”
Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.
Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.
“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  
“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”
“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”
“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”
“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.
“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…
“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"
“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…
“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.
“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.
“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  
“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.
“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”
“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.
“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.
“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…
“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”
“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.
“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.
“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”
Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.
Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…
The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.
And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…
Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—
“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”
“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”
“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.
“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”
The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.
“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?
The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.
“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.
“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”
“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.
“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”
“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.
“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.
“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.
But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”
Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.
“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”
“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”
Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.
Same cheekbones, though.
“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.
“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”
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