#written prompts

[rule0fwolves]

100 rp sentence starters/dialogue prompts straight out of fanfictions I've written.

{feel free to change pronouns and wording as you need or see fit!}

ALSO DONT SAY ANYTHING ABOUT HOW RANDOM OR CHEESY THESE ARE I DONT WANNA HEAR IT

also also, a few of them are from WIPS that I have yet to unleash onto this hellsite or the other lame ones.

“Don’t play dumb. You knew how they felt. You were just stringing them on, right? You weren’t serious.”

“Woah, what’s up with you? You look pissed.”

“You did the right thing.”

“Worst of all, I miss you; the only one who deserves to be missed. You’re the only one who’s actually good for me.”

“You’re acting really distant for no reason. Well, maybe there is a reason, but how the hell would I know that if you don’t tell me?”

“I like you. More than a friend. I’m sorry I had to tell you like this.”

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But no amount of whining will make me tell you.”

“I better be the only man in your life. You’ll never find anyone as great as me, I promise.”

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll always be my number one”

“It’s gotten dark. Here, let me walk you home.”

“Duh? I, A, have found a movie that I think you, B, would like so I, A, am asking you, B, to see a movie with me.”

“Omg yes! I can’t wait to actually meet you! I want to go everywhere with you.”

“You can think about work later, okay? Let’s run away.”

“You remember our secret paradise, don’t you?”

“You need to take better care of yourself, bub. Whenever you need me, I’m here. I’ll help you.”

“Yeah. I remember you crying like a big baby when ___ called you average.”

“I am manifesting that ___ doesn’t actually like me and is actually confessing something else.”

“I’m gonna need at least 3 years before I can come back from that shit.”

“What kind of damage have you done you dumbass!!”

“SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING I SWEAR ON MY MAMA”

“THIS WOULDN’T BE A PROBLEM IF YOU WEREN’T A PUSSY AND YOU JUST CONFESS ALREADY!!”

“___ told me to say “mind ur business <3””

“Sorry, my lips are (forcibly) sealed.”

“Count your days, ___. Sleep with one eye open from now on.”

“You are so jealous it is so funny”

“I’M TELLING ___ YOU WANNA HAVE AN AFFAIR”

“I’m happy for you! I know you were pretty upset, so I’m glad things worked out.”

“Sorry about that. I panicked. Thanks for helping me out.”

"I don't really feel like working on the project today."

"Let's just hang out. Tell me more about yourself. You haven't told me much."

"Oh my god I've thought about this so many times, you have no idea.”

“Hey, pretty. Do you have a pen?”

“You should stay home. Rest a little. I’ll have fun for you.”

“Awww, you’re so eager.”

“I don’t want to stay just friends…. I like you too much.”

“Just lean on me. I won’t let you go.”

“Live for me.”

“I forgot to bring some clothes with me last night, and I thought you wouldn’t mind if I wore something of yours…”

“We’re done, _____. I’ve seen enough. I knew this was happening but I chose to ignore it. I chose to have faith in you and this is how you repay me? I guess I made the wrong choice. Thanks for nothing, asshole.”

“Of course you would, anything for just a kiss,” 

“Go, go! I don’t want you to get in trouble for me.”

“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you and your layers,”

“Well if it turns out you rejected me, then I wouldn’t have to see your stupid face again afterwards and I wouldn’t have to feel awkward about it.”

“Say it again! Say you like me!”

“I’ll kill her if you want me to. No one hurts my ____.” (joking)

“Says you, Mr. Five Foot Nine Inches!!” (can go for any height under 5’11” or 180cm)

“It’s dark out there and you never know what could happen.”

“Thanks for coming over. I feel a lot better.”

 “Don’t worry, sweetheart, it was just a joke.”

“____! Let me go! You smell, go shower!”

“It’s been a month already, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.”

“I couldn’t find an umbrella… And I didn’t know it would be raining that hard. It was only sprinkling when I left”

“Oh my god thank goodness it’s you. My friends ditched me.”

“What the fuck are you doing? Get off me!”

“I like the way she looks at me. And I like how she always cares about me. And the way her eyebrows furrow together whenever she’s confused and the ways her eyes sparkle when she’s amazed by something. And of course I love her attention.”

“Don’t get rid of your feelings for me. Don’t forget me. Don’t like anyone else.”

“Hey, instead of sleeping on the couch, could you sleep with me? I’m sure it would be much more comfortable and better for your back.”

 “How’s it going my little emo buddy?”

“Not exactly stalking… Just… Watching. I don’t want you to get hurt. That guy is just a player. I can give you everything you need.”

“You really hate love, don’t you?”

“You’re such a great friend. What did I do to deserve you?”

“If you ever show your face near me or my friends spewing bullshit, I’ll make sure you can never walk again.” 

 “I won’t stop you. You’re not mine anymore.”

“I just think… I need some space. We should… Take a break.”

“I’m so sorry, ____. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m just… I’m just so scared, (nickname).”

“(full name), I’m in love with you. And that scares the shit out of me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”

“I’ve liked you since day one, ____. You can hurt me all you want.”

“Let’s keep it that way. I don’t want you dating until you’re 30.”

“What are your intentions with ____?” 

“I’ll burn you alive if you even think about doing something to ____,”

“Everyone be nice to her or else you’ll be eating wood chips for breakfast, lunch, and dinner”

“Be more careful next time. Your friends would have my head if I let you get hurt,”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“ You really look the opposite of okay.”

“You’re upset over a 97 percent?”

“ I’m just so disappointed in myself.”

“You can uh… Pay me back later if you really feel that bad about it.”

“You were glowing.”

“It’s what you’re thinking though, right? Why bother with the fake kindness, hm?”

“Do you want to watch a movie? I have Netflix.”

“I’ve only ever skated once and I was terrible at it.”

“Alright, we can take it slow. I won’t let go of you until you feel confident in yourself. Okay?”

“Where did you get that information?”

“I am going to murder that motherfucker.”

“Babe, come on. Your feelings are totally valid. He gave you mixed signals. Even if it was fake, you have a right to feel upset.”

“Who is ____ and why are you out for his blood?”

“I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to get over him, I did. I wanted to like you back, but I can’t. I’m still so helplessly in love with ____.”

“Please don’t force yourself to like me. You can’t help who you love.”

“Have a good nap. But before you do, there’s a… present.... in your room.”

“We need to talk. I’m serious this time. Please just listen.”

“I know the relationship was fake, but I swear to you, my feelings are not.”

“I am just about as in love with you as you are with me.”

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before you.”

“Let’s start over. For real this time.”

“Your brother is terrifying.”

“He’s been hanging out with ___ too much, the stupid is rubbing off on him.”

“You… You want me to choose…?”

“I’m not the ordinary monster that lives in your closet or under your bed. I’m way fucking worse.”

#rp starters #sentence starters #writing prompts #rp prompts #rp meme #starters #fanfiction memes #roleplay starters #writing ideas #prompts #written prompts #original post time #multimuse #oc rp #oc x canon #oc x oc #canon x canon #ship meme

[flyingpotstickers]

🎁

send me a 🎁 and I’ll write five sentences of what I’m working on and share one

I wasn't working on anything yet but wrote this instead so you get all of THIS.....) (reminder to donate to this cause if you enjoyed reading this!!!!!)

Word Count: ~1k!

Fandom: NCIS: Hawai'i

Ship: Kacy

Read it here on ao3.

@when-you-are-stranger you might like this :)

Kate naturally wasn't a jealous person. Normally, she was quite confident in who she was seeing and how they were feeling about her at any given moment. It'd never been a problem before, certainly, that she'd gotten hotheaded over a partner.

So when she snapped the pencil in front of Lucy getting flirted with--- well....that was a new experience for her. Lucy wasn't entertaining the flirtatious advances, of course. They were together. But that didn't mean Kate liked seeing it happen.... Right in front of her coffee, for fuck's sake!

Okay, so maybe while they were together, and that was factual, it wasn't exactly... well known to the rest of the team. They were keeping things down on the low, secret. Kate wasn't even sure why anymore. It had been her idea.

So Kate couldn't even get mad.

(More mad than she was.)

She wanted to get mad.

(Pencils be damned.)

She wanted to declare in front of everyone that they were a couple and to back The Fuck Off of her girl. But that was an angry thought, a thought based off fear of rejection. Instead, she commented on the pick up line with a dry look. "You broke my pencil by being bold enough to use that dull of a line." She drawled out.

Lucy giggled. Oh god, Kate wanted to give her the world. Kate sighed as she looked at Lucy, "what? Was it going to work?" she asked lightly. Trying to infuse in her tone of voice that she was not threatened by this man's "moves" or lack thereof.

Lucy rolled her eyes, looking only slightly apologetically at the coffee shop employee. "Sorry, but no. I've heard lines about these eyes longer than you've been alive, kid." She confessed. "besides that," she added. "I have a partner."

Kate tried not to puff up with pride at the words--- Or at the way the cashier deflated. SHE WAS THAT PARTNER!!!! Yeah!!!!!

Kate needed to get a grip on herself.

"Here's your order."

The barista called out after a pregnant pause --- the pause involving a very loaded gaze off between the two women. Looking at Lucy, Kate couldn't remember why they were keeping this - them - a secret. But she couldn't just out them on her own. No.... bad idea.

"C'mon," Lucy tugged Kate's sleeve along as they grabbed their individual drinks from the counter. "You're holding the line up, Whistler."

"I want to go out with you." Kate said intelligently, obediently allowing herself to be tugged away. "In public. With you. And I want to tell the world that you have decided to give me another chance. But only if that's okay with you! I understand if you don't want to, it's just." Kate gripped her drink almost a little tooooooooo tightly. Luckily, she realised in time and stopped: Stopped the squeeze, stopped the motion of moving forward.

"I understand if I've given off too many red flags for you to even really want to date me at all. But right here and now, all I can think about is kissing the foam off of your lips." Kate continued to ramble, and would have gone on to say more, really! She was prepared with a whole speech! Except!

Lucy kissed her. In front of all the coffee shop. In front of all the employees who had hit on her. In front of all the customers who were waiting on their mediocre coffee. And oh god, Kate could taste the coffee on Lucy's lips as the kiss intensified for three....four, no, five, seconds until Lucy pulled away smiling beatifically.

"I could think of worse things."

Kate couldn't think of anything, let alone "Things Worse Than Dating Her".

All she could think of was the taste Lucy had allowed her of a life that she So. Desperately. Wanted.

A life with Lucy Tara.

#prompt fill #kacy fic #kacy ficlet #kacy #ncis hawaii fanfic #coffee shop au #jealousy #kate whistler #lucy tara #when-you-are-stranger #haeva #written prompts #my writing #argos writes

[moonsugar-and-spice]

Azulaang

And for Dragon Age maybe Meredith x Orsino or Morrigan x Alistair for that good ol mage templar dynamic

Or surprise me

I went with the first for Azulaang and I'll save the second for another time (it's a good one; Morristair my beloved).

🌧️24: "We should stop talking, people might start to think I like you."

Send me a prompt and a pairing.

Azula turned the old bronze comb over in her hand, running a thumb along the familiar jade embellishment in the shaft.  It was the first time she had stood before this mirror since returning to the palace, its proud gold frame climbing the wall of her chambers.  Abstractly it called to mind the gilded trim framing the curtained door of the palanquin that had brought her here not two weeks ago.

“Why?”

The first word that had been spoken as she’d sat in the jostling quiet next to Zuko, the asylum shrinking in the distance.  The healers had formally pronounced her fit to be discharged, and Azula had been momentarily stunned when it was he who had arrived to pick her up.

Not a servant sent at the Fire Lord’s command. 

Zuko, himself.

Why.  What an absurdly small question, she mused now, to hold the tumble of thoughts and feelings and more questions stuffed into it.

“Is there somewhere else you were thinking you’d go?” he had responded, and Azula would have accepted that as answer enough.  She would have figured something out — she always would — but it had all happened so fast, and if she were honest, Azula wasn’t sure in that moment where she might have gone.

But then, Zuko had said, “I wanted you to come home.  It’s where you belong.”

Home.

The mirror’s face she had shattered on her last night here, a lifetime ago, had been repaired sometime during her absence.  Her mother, Ursa, used to sit her down at this mirror with this same comb.  If Azula concentrated hard enough, she could almost smell the perfumed oils she used to favor, jasmine and sandalwood and orange blossom.  Could almost feel her mother’s gentle touch, combing her hair a hundred times smooth, even as she’d griped and jerked away.

“I love you, Azula.”

Words she had never been able to receive, then.  Love was something you had to earn, and she would never manage to compete with Zuko to win it.  She wouldn’t even try.  He was her perfect child, and she was her father’s.

Azula watched her reflection lift the comb languidly to her hair, but stopped short, her gaze snagging on a deep, brittle crack in the bronze along its once-perfect, polished edge.  When had that happened?  She didn’t remember it being there before.

The old her would have tossed the thing away with a sneer, ordered it replaced just as quickly with something newer and shinier.  Something perfect.

Now, she was struck by the odd sort of beauty in her hand.  The imperfections all resolving together to create a piece of art with character and history, unique unto itself, and despite it all, or perhaps even on account of, she found she admired it all the more.

For fourteen years of her life, Azula had believed that if she only tried hard enough, if she could be perfect enough, if she never failed or lost or made a mistake in any way, she could earn her father’s love.  The last time she had seen him, Ozai had named her Fire Lord — an honorific she now knew had been as empty as his affection for her, a way to leave her behind — that star-crossed night when he had been power-drunk and endeavored to burn the Earth Kingdom to a cinder.

And for all her years of effort and grueling training and silent desperation, in the end, the worst had come to pass.  She had failed.  She had lost that fated Agni Kai to Zuko.  And there was not a single soul in the royal court, or the city, or her father still in his cold iron cell, who did not know of how she lost and came apart that night.

In the days and weeks after, bitter and numb and stewing in the seclusion of her personal safety room, Azula had sworn she would never let anyone see her cry again.  People saw tears and they stopped seeing you, stopped seeing the armor you wore, stopped listening to your words, your expression, or anything you might have to say.  It made no difference whether the tears were frightened or frustrated, angry or sad.  All they saw was a fragile girl crying.

Tears burned behind her eyes now, threatening to fall.  The comb’s teeth scraped gently against her scalp as she ran it through her hair, wincing a little as she hit a tangle and smoothed it out.  Azula breathed in slow and deep, watching her chest rise and fall in the mirror, the line between her brows melting away on the exhale.

For perhaps the hundredth time in recent days, Azula found herself turning her brother’s words around in her head, this way and that, like a sculpture, trying to catch every subtle detail, every hidden nuance.

“I wanted you to come home.  It’s where you belong.”

Some buried part of her stirred, whispering that she had mistaken his meaning, that he hadn’t really meant it.

But Azula had long since stopped trying to earn anyone’s love or approval.  She had already unraveled, had already hit rock bottom, and everyone knew it, so what was the point?  Fourteen years of striving, and her father’s love had turned to dust the moment she’d slipped.  She was done trying to be anything for anyone other than herself.

The thing with Zuko though, she had come to understand, was that she never had to be any of those things.  In spite of all her wrongs and flaws and failures, in spite of having done nothing to deserve it and for reasons she couldn’t understand, Zuko loved her anyway.

It had been Zuko — weak, lucky-to-be-born Zuko — who never gave up on her.  The one who saw her through years of therapy and reconditioning and growth to come out the other side, and never once made her feel ashamed or abandoned or not enough.

Something cracked inside her, a soft, hitching breath.  

The tears spilled over then, cleansing and hot.  She didn’t try to stop them.

What would she say if she were to face her father now, to stand tall and look him in the eyes with tear-stained cheeks?  She wanted to tell him that a true phoenix does not rise amid the flames, wild and fierce, but only in the cold, dark nothing that comes after.  Born from its own ashes, forged through hellfire and suffering, through its own unmaking, to become something else, something better and stronger and resilient.

She straightened, sniffed, and set the comb down on the table with a tick, giving only a cursory wipe to her eyes and face.  There was no such thing as perfect.  Only beautiful versions of brokenness.

The halls were still relatively quiet, pale light leaking in through the windows with morning’s muted chorus, drifting just at the edge of hearing.  It had become her favorite time of day during her stay in the asylum, that bird-soaked hour before sunrise.  She had spent many mornings roaming the gated garden, or seated at its window on drizzly mornings.  The flowers always looked a shade brighter in the rain, the birds always singing louder.

Funny, how for so long defeat had echoed like a door slammed shut, a resounding end to her life and all that she was.  What might have become of her, if Zuko had never risked treason to do what was right, if Katara hadn’t been at the Agni Kai that night to save him, and without knowing it, Azula, too?  If the Avatar had not beaten the odds to bring an end to the Fire Nation’s tyranny and Ozai’s power-hungry ambition?

How she had loathed the Avatar, back then, for his part in the ruin of it all.

Now, gratitude expanded in her chest, filling her near to aching.

“A closed door might be an ending, but it’s also a beginning,” he’d said during their first accidental encounter upon her return, “a different way forward.  A death, and a rebirth.”

Azula couldn’t quite say why she had opened up to him in the first place.  Her mouth had let the words escape before she could stop them, but she never found herself wishing to take them back.  It was comfortable with him.  Odd for her to make a connection so quickly, to give her trust so easily, tentative though it was.  There was something in the way he smiled, a genuineness, a softness of spirit so unlike her own.  When she talked, he listened like he was absorbing her words, as if there was nothing more important in the world at that moment.

“The monks used to say our stories don’t have one beginning or one end, but that each moment is a microcosm of beginnings and endings all knitting together, crossing each other, breaking apart.  One closed door, the end of one chapter, is simply the beginning of the next.”

She had watched him, sifting his expressions, and glimpsed the boy in his face, the one who had lost everything and everyone he had loved.  The one she had killed that night in the catacombs.  The thought still made her wince.  Was resilience something he was born with, or had he, too, learned how to nurture it?

Aang, he had been insisting she call him.  She hadn’t yet, if only for the reward of his banter and that tenacious smile, the one that carved a dimple into one cheek.

“Well, well…”

Azula’s steps faltered with a soft breath of amusement.  Really, it should have come as a surprise.  After all, once was an accident; twice, maybe even three times, a coincidence.  But four, five?  It was almost comical now, which was why it no longer surprised her.  Azula had come to expect, maybe even hope for, these unintended rendezvous.

She turned smoothly on her heel and felt a contented tug at the corner of her mouth as he approached.

“Hello, Avatar.”

“Hello, Princess,” he replied, coming to stop in his weightless way before her.  Azula’s eyes flicked down. 

Thin plumes of steam curled up from a pair of teacups, one in each of his hands.  Her eyes returned to Aang’s with an arch of a brow to catch a hint of that dimple showing as his lips quirked.

“Tea?” he offered, holding one out to her.

Reflexively, she accepted it, the porcelain pleasantly warm against her palms.  Azula fixed him with a look of wry incredulity.  “There is no way you could have known I’d be walking this hall at this very time.”

“Who says I made it for you?” shrugged Aang, the corners of his eyes kissing slightly.  “I made two cups in case I ran into someone who looked like they could use one.  Just so happens here you are.”

The steam bore an inviting aroma she knew well, fruity and woodsy with honeyed notes.

“Hmm.  Well, the day I turn down a cup of oolong is the day the assassins have succeeded and replaced me with an imposter, so…”  She took a sip, savoring the velvety smooth richness on her tongue and the sweet-bitter aftertaste.  “Thank you.”

They strolled aimlessly together, and for a little while neither spoke, the halls beginning to fill with the rustles of a palace waking.

“They wouldn’t fool me, by the way,” he said at length, and Azula looked up at him.  He had grown over the years, nearly a head taller than she was now.  “I’d be able to tell.”

“What?”

“The real you from a counterfeit.”

It took her by surprise, his words as much as the color rising softly in his cheeks.  Azula ducked her head to take a long sip of the tea, locking eyes fleetingly with a servant passing by.  The woman’s gaze skated to the floor, but not fast enough to hide the twinkle still bleeding through her expression.

“You know, we really should stop talking,” said Azula once the servant had gone, dragging Aang’s eyes askance to meet hers.  “People might start to think I like you.”

The words rang hollow though, and she made no effort to mask the telling tilt of her lips.

“Oh?” he responded, taking the bait.  “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…”  Aang leaned closer with an exaggerated grimace, mock-whispering the rest as they went.  “I’m pretty sure people already suspect that I like you.”

It was her turn to blush, the rush of heat having little to do with the temperature of her drink.  Azula feigned solemnity in spite of the butterflies rousing sleepily in her stomach.

“How unfortunate.  We should definitely stop talking then.  Already halfway there, we can’t have that.”

“Yeah.  I hate to say it, but I think we might be fighting an uphill battle around here.  Maybe it would all be easier if you just admitted you do like me.”

“You think so?”  The gold rim of her teacup winked in a shaft of light as they passed a window.  “Maybe you should go first.”

“That seems kind of weird, but, okay…”  There was a subtle gleam to his expression as he took a breath, making a show of composing himself, and finally said, “I think you like me, Azula.”

She scoffed, opening her mouth with some retort when he cut in, “Now it’s your turn.”

“Fine.  I think you like me, Avatar.”

Shaking his head good-humoredly, he let his gaze wander ahead of them down the hall.  “You don’t have to keep calling me that.  You’ve had all these years to learn my name—”

“Names are for people you like.”

He glanced back at her, and she bit her lip, a poor attempt to hide her enjoyment, and for the briefest of moments, just an instant, his grey eyes were drawn down, alighting on her lips.  One of those butterflies seemed to escape her stomach, fluttering dizzily in her chest, and she looked away.

“Fair,” Aang conceded with a shrug of his head.  “And what if I said, hypothetically, that the rumors are true.  That maybe I do like you.”

“I suppose, hypothetically, I might respond that for a bald, attention-whoring, goody-goody monk… maybe you’re okay, too.”

The morning’s rays had saturated to a rich amber, igniting the crimson halls wherever it touched, and the lopsided grin that broke across his face rendered it pale by comparison.  She couldn’t help the echo of it that dawned on her own face.

“Coming from you that might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.  I’ll be sure to keep that one right here,” he said, placing a palm flat over his heart.

Their languorous steps eased, and when Aang came to a stop, Azula turned to face him.  The oolong in her cup had begun to cool and she warmed it again, watching the feather of steam rise to dance over it.

“So,” was all he said at first, shifting his weight.

“So,” she returned in kind.

“Here we are again.”

“It does seem as if our paths are determined to keep crossing.”

“Some people might call that fate,” ventured Aang.

“I call it living in the same palace.”

Murmurous laughter trickled toward them, quieting to a hush as a trio of servants rounded the corner, bowing humbly before vanishing through an adjacent hall.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Aang continued.  “People already assume the worst, and we keep bumping into each other.  Maybe we might as well, I don’t know… hang out.  Like, officially.  Since, you know, that’s what everyone expects anyway.”

The thought had wandered into her own mind a handful of times, though of course she didn’t say that.

“I suppose there is no sense in trying to dissuade the ones who’ve already made up their minds.  What do you imagine two people who don’t like each other might do together?”

“Hmm…”  His mouth pulled to the side in thought.  “A Kuai ball duel?”

She replied with a soft, flippant snort.  “Sure, if losing is your idea of fun.  I’m undefeated, you know, Kuai ball reigning champion.”

“Oh, but you’ve never competed against the Avatar.”  His voice retained the buoyancy she knew, but there was a spirited edge to it, of someone equally sure of their own skill.  “Should we put that record to the test?”

It was the sanest kind of madness, this unlooked-for attraction between them.

Azula straightened, lifted her chin, and smiled with an almost defiant kind of joy.

#prompt ask #azulaang #azula #aang #atla fanfiction #haven't written either of these character much #and never written this pairing #not sure it's my best but it was a fun challenge and change of pace #this ended up being half azulaang and half post-canon #post-years of therapy #making-it-out-of-the-asylum-with-the-support-of-those-who-truly-love-her azula character study #because i think she deserves it #i also just realized there has been mention of a mirror in all three of these prompt fics so far 😅😅 #not sure what that means or says about me at the moment #but… probably something #written prompts #thanks for the ask! #writebecauseyoucannotbreathe #moonsugar writes

[thunderprompts]

▼ {RP} P r o m p t s & S t a r t e r s from Remedy’s “Control” ▼pt. 1

001.   “Fair warning: This is gonna be weirder than usual.” 002.   "Can’t be helped.” 003.   “You called me, so here I am.” 004.   “I know I shut you out sometimes. I’m always glad to hear from you.” 005.   “It’s just that... I get my hopes up. So many times it’s led to nothing.” 006.   “I’ve found nothing.” 007.   “It’s like... we live in a room, and there’s a poster on the wall. We stare at it and we think that’s the whole world, the room... and the poster. The room is a cell. And the picture... it’s different for each of us... [and] we’re all transfixed. But it’s all a lie.” 008.   “[It’s all] to distract us from the truth.” 009.   “They’re lying to us. We’re lying to ourselves.” 010.   “The world is much bigger and much stranger.” 011.   “I’m here. Why did you bring me here?” 012.   “Yeah. I see it. But what is it? I can... feel it. It resonates.” 013.   “The things you show me, my friend.” 014.   “I forgot, ‘it’s all in my head,’ right?” 015.   “Where is everybody? I need someone to point me in the right direction.” 016.   “Certain objects are not allowed inside the Bureau. Recent incidents have necessitated a reminder on prohibited materials.” 017.   “This thing... I saw it a long time ago. I keep seeing it in my dreams.” 018.   “Federal Bureau of Control... All these years I’ve been looking for them, and they were hiding in plain sight.” 019.   “███████████ a shark in his ██████████████████, although secure, ██████████████████████████ permission to ███████████ following basic protocol ███████████████. Shoot to kill. Good luck.” 020.   “There you are! You are here about the job.” 021.   "I’ve done enough nightshift loner jobs to know it makes us come off weird.” 022.   “Better than somebody with no face at all. Think about it: No face.” 023.   “They told me I imagined it.” 024.   “Did I lose you there for a moment?” 025.   “You know what’s on my mind: My baby brother.” 026.   “Seventeen years since the men of this Bureau took [my brother.]” 027.   “When penning any notifications of death... please adhere to the following guidelines.” 028.   “I am not to be disturbed! Cancel all my appointments for the day, for the rest of the week!” 029.   “I can’t trust them. Not a single one.” 030.   “Shit. Shit shit shit.”

#rp prompts #rp starters #writing prompts #writing starters #dialogue writing prompts #dialogue prompts #written prompts

[emptyjunior]

Enough random notes that have a written story on them as environmental storytelling, explore the space, get crazier with it.

You move into a house and aw cute, it has the kids height on the walls but you notice there's a three foot difference in height between measurements, you check the date, they're a month apart. The final measurement is on the ceiling. It's dated two days ago.

You're part of a recovery team that have finally found a stranded ship, they were found too late and have all passed a long time ago. They all died of starvation. You enter their storeroom, it's filled with food. In the dining hall you find the tables laden with perfectly fine looking breads, cakes, cured meats, jams, candies. Your medic says all the people sitting at the table didn't eat a Thing.

You wake up in an apocalypse. You can't find anyone at all as you wander the streets but you do hear faint music playing from somewhere. You stumble into a supermarket, to see all the aisles still full, except for the shelf that was full of ear plugs, which look to be the only thing that was looted.

Like there's light, sound, props. Having a street where every house is decimated except for One. Landing on a planet known for having No Water and a plant is growing and you don't know where it could have possibly gotten moisture from but you can't find the citizens Anywhere.

I'm sorry, I'm just kinda over the "graffiti on the wall to show the bad guy is around". That's not environmental storytelling that's just normal story. Show me I'm in the villains territory by the rain suddenly cutting out above me as I'm driving, even though it's meant to be raining all night. I park the car and step out, and realise the constellations are Wrong, until I see they're Not constellations, they're the blinking lights of a massive ship-

I Will stop now because everytime I go to write a sentence it devolves into another prompt but I'm just saying we have a Lot of senses, engage them, show me the Environment in environmental storytelling.

#text post #why have I written a Rant Completely unprompted #print it out and leave it next to me skeleton like I'm in Skyrim I guess #video games #writing #prompts #writing prompt #gaming #environmental storytelling

[thevoidstaredback]

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Part 2

#I wrote this instead of working on any of my current wips #dc x dp #justice league #justice league dark #red robin #danny phantom #writing prompt #brain child #no ships #should I continue this? #I've never written these characters (on my own) before but I've fallen down a rabbit hole and I felt the need to jump on the train #should I post other stories here? #would y'all be interested in seeing some of my other works? #I should actually link my ao3 here #I'll stop now #captain marvel #shazam #coffee #caffeine #justice league meeting #word ending threat #writing #fanfic #fandom #phandom #dcxdp #Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

[rotruff]

your f/o would not care abt any 'abnormal' speech mannerisms you've got btw.

stutter? that's ok, they're more than happy to wait to let you get the words out, it just gives them an extra few seconds to appreciate your voice. Even if you get caught up on the same word a few times or the whole sentence struggles a little, they're not gonna make fun of you. It's you talking, what could ever be 'wrong' with that?

mix up your words? that's totally ok! whether you'd rather try again and say what you actually meant to say or just wanna repeat a few bits so they get the gist, they're not gonna make fun of you. even if you don't notice that you swapped around some words, they've gotten pretty good at deciphering your meaning, time together letting them hone their skills.

forget what you were saying halfway through it? that's totally fine too! whether they give you a few minutes to try and remember or just move past it till something jogs your memory again, they're fine to offer up some ideas on what it might've been about or a new topic to get your mind off of it.

use a lot of 'fluff' in your speech (ie. 'umm,' 'like,' 'uhh,' etc.)? they're not gonna rush the words out of you or interrupt your speech. They're more than happy to give you all the time in the world to talk, no matter how rambly and long-winded it might seem. They like hearing what you have to say and your thoughts are priceless to them.

#written for me myself and i because i started stuttering and struggling w/ my words on call yesterday #fighting for my LIFE!!!!! #also sorry if the wording on this is weird my words are still a little scrambled #also also this is all just based on my own experience. so. smiles. #f/o imagine #f/o imagines #imagine your f/o #self shipping #self ship community #self ship #f/o prompts #self ship imagine

[winterrrnight]

rafe loves to hear you talk and talk about things you are so passionate about… <3 a rafe x reader blurb <3 cw: reader is chatty and rambl-y and is insecure about it, in this scenario reader is extremely passionate about japanese legends, lovesick rafe + casually dominant rafe, intentional lower case <3 just something for me to post after a small break as I work on other projects <3 for @zyafics who is one of the biggest reasons I am feeling motivated to write again <3

“oh here’s another one I read about yesterday!” you say excitedly as rafe squeezes your intertwined hands, smiling at you.

“mhm go on,” he smiles as you both continue to walk on the sidewalk, the full moon shining bright down at the two of you.

“this one is about the red thread of fate, this thread connects two soulmates,” you smile at him. he looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“connects two soulmates?” he echoes, and you nod.

“yeah,” you say. “it’s said there is a man who lives on the moon who comes to earth to show people their futures and who they’ll end up with. he does that with the help of the red thread of fate. he ties this invisible red thread between the two people who are meant to be together. this thread can tangle over the huge distance between the two people, it can stretch, but it will never ever break, and it will always tighten to bring those two people together.

“it also talks about the existence of a red pencil which can trace this invisible red thread, and this pencil gets shorter with its usage.

“oh and, this thread is always tied between the pinkies of the two people. that is because it was discovered a long time ago that our heart is connected to our pinky finger by an artery, which is now called the ‘ulnar artery’. this artery carries oxygenated blood from our heart to our pinky. so, in a way, our heart is directly linked to our pinkies via this artery, so when we make a pinky promise, we are basically connecting our hearts while making the promise. and that is why the invisible red thread of fate is also connecting our pinkies, because it is basically connecting the hearts of the soulmates, and–”

you take a look to your left at rafe, who’s looking down at the sidewalk as you both walk. you got so absorbed in talking you don’t even know if he is still listening or if he has tuned you out. honestly, who can blame him? since you keep on talking too much, anyone would quickly tune you out.

“oh god i’m doing it again aren’t i?” you say nervously as you stop in your tracks on the sidewalk, causing rafe to stop too. he eyes you with furrowed brows and creases on his forehead.

the actual truth is, rafe was thinking about tying a red thread to your pinkies when you both get home, his mind racing on where he can actually find some red thread in his house.

“doing what?” rafe asks softly.

“the, the ramble thing, where i just talk and talk till my mouth falls off,” you sigh, looking down. “I do that way too much, i don’t even know if you want to hear it or not but I just start speaking with no seeming end to my talk whatsoever, and you have to force yourself to listen to it because you got stuck being my boyfriend. and then i just keep on talking without thinking, it’s like my mouth has a mind of its own, I really should start to think–”

you are immediately cut off with rafe’s lips on yours, your eyes widening as you try to adjust to what is happening. rafe’s free hand comes to rest on your cheek to pull you even closer into the kiss, and your eyes flutter shut, letting you get lost in the feeling of him.

rafe gently pulls apart from the kiss, his eyes barely open as he gazes down at you.

“listen to me…” he says softly. “you don’t talk too much. I love hearing you talk. I love the cute expressions you make when you talk about things you are passionate about. I love how much knowledge you have about them and how you want to share it with me. I love the shine in your eyes when you start to talk, and the shine is even brighter under the moonlight. never ever apologize for talking too much because I won’t hear it, and you’ll only end up getting kissed by me each time. you get it?”

you look up in rafe’s eyes with a stunned expression. for the first ever time, you are at a loss of words, and all you can do is nod.

he smiles softly at you, as his thumb caresses your cheek. “words, baby, you hear me?” he says softly.

“yeah…” you let out. “I hear you,”

“good,” he mumbles. “never apologize again, okay?”

“okay,” you whisper.

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tugs on your hand gently, both of you now walking again. “come on, continue what you were saying,” he says, urging you to continue about the legend you were talking about.

you nod as you clear your throat before resuming to tell him more, this time not allowing even a single thought to let you stop as the stream of words spills from your lips, and rafe only listens in awe, loving hearing what it is you have to tell him.

#hi hi here's a new blurb :) #hope you all like!! <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #written by edith! 🪄

[whumpy-galaxy]

Listen I am a SUCKER for conditioned whumpees. Specifically the unconditioning that comes after rescue.

Whumpee being afraid of Caretaker.

Whumpee having to wear a collar and a muzzle because that’s how Whumper kept them.

Whumpee panicking when they mess up or drop something, waiting for Caretaker to get upset and beat them.

Whumpee who won’t eat unless Caretaker orders them to.

Whumpee who doesn’t know what to do if they’re not being dragged around on a chain.

Whumpee who’s afraid of windows and the outdoors because Whumper convinced them everyone and everything outside wanted to hurt them, and they were safer with Whumper.

And everything that comes with that.

Caretaker not knowing what to do and feeling worthless. (Bonus points if they even consider mercy killing Whumpee because maybe they’ll always be afraid of everything and there’s nothing they can do).

Caretaker thinking maybe they DID do something to hurt Whumpee.

Caretaker being upset every time they look at Whumpee because they still insist on wearing the collar and muzzle Whumper bought for them, and Caretaker never wants to see them like that.

But also the good things that come with it!

Caretaker getting a new collar and muzzle made, with padding and lots of extra space for Whumpee to wear while they recover.

Whumpee finally being able to do something without asking Caretaker first, and Caretaker being so proud of them.

Caretaker’s praise and excitement at this makes Whumpee feel proud, too.

I just. I love it so much.

#mercy killing is great too I love that #I haven’t written in so long #like prompts and stuff #so I hope this is decent and understandable lol #whump #whump prompt #whumpblr #whumpee #whump writing #whump community #whump blog #caretaker #caretaker whump #conditioned whumpee #rescue whump #recovery whump #whumpy-galaxy

[hapinesbuterfiy]

. ୨🪩୧ ₊˚ 🍒 ʚ ♡ ˚ 🎀 +

lets talk about rafe x fangirl!reader...

you love being a fangirl and all of the late release nights, hundreds of dollars spent in merch and concert tickets, and the constant hours of waiting in ticketmaster queues that came with it. having an insanely rich and obsessive boyfriend who would spend millions to make you happy had it's perks!

it took rafe a while to get used to your antics, never did he ever think he would be waking up at 2am to queue for a concert, but who else would be accompanying his girl? certainly not anyone else, he wouldn't have it. at first, he attempted to persuade you to buy actual seats instead of pit tickets with the "proactive person" approach. "are you fuckin' crazy? you're meanin' to tell me that you would rather sleep on the filthy fuckin' streets outside the venue waiting for hours when i could just buy you an entire box of seats? you're fuckin' insane." he stomps around your bedroom while standing above you, unable to fathom the lengths that you're willing to go to for a good view at a show. "rafe it's not the same you just don't get it! i need to be at the barricade there is literally no point in going if lana del rey can't watch me sob in front of her while singing pretty when you cry." he rolls his eyes at your remark, shaking his head in disbelief while sucking in his bottom lip. "yea—yea fuckin' barricade my ass, you shithead. lucky i wouldn't fuckin' make you go alone." you perk up, kissing his cheek in excitement. "thank you!" you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

you're passionate, to say the least! why would you spent countless nights sobbing to grainy eras tour live streams after taylor swift plays your favorite songs without you there alone when you could be doing it with rafe by your side? he thinks you're insane for crying over a song, giving you his best fake sympathy act each time it happens, which is practically every time she has a concert because her entire discography is yours. you try your best to make out words through your sniffles and sobs, "i hate taylor swift so much. why would she bring gracie abrams out to play i miss you i'm sorry without me there?" you continue to choke on your sobs and manage to pull yourself even close into his chest. "she's so mean i hate her rafe." he tries his best to console you but can't help but laugh at your disheveled state and the snot coming out of your nose over a song, he is rafe, after all. "baby— i don't know what to tell you. maybe she'll like play it again when you see her, i don't fuckin' know." he wipes your face with his thumbs, as he continues to laugh at you reaching out for his phone to take a video of you so he can make fun of you later for it.

you practically control the aux cord in his jeep, as his girlfriend it's basically your job to make sure he has good music taste! plus the same future songs that he plays over and over again are starting to become unbearable. "so this is thank u, next, it's literally ariana's best single like i swear i would not be the same person without this song it's so me core." he parts his lips in frustration, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "the fuck do you mean that's so me core? are you tryin' to say somethin' here?" he tries to pretend that he isn't enjoying it but you can hear him mumble "thank u, next m' im so fuckin' grateful for my ex." your eyes light up as you land a playful slap to his shoulder "see i told you it was a good song, you're too stubborn!" he completely disregards you, turning the volume up even higher so that you stop chirping in his ear.

you're a handful and a tad bit loud, but rafe secretly enjoys putting with your shit. you're his princess and if that meant he had to book an entire trip to italy just so you could go see harry styles for the last show on love on tour just to make you happy, he would be doing so!

#dividers by @plutism #this is the most self serving thing i have ever written #𓂃 ꔫ 💌 hapinesbuterfiy #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron fanfiction #fangirl #taylor swift #lana del rey #harry styles #ariana grande #gracie abrams

[luxaofhesperides]

Could i request a ghostlight where danny can turn into a dragon, it could be though a curse or just training from queen dora?

Like dragon Danny seeing the yellow signal outfit and thinking "mmmmm gold, shiny, must take".

He should probably be more worried about being cursed.

Scratch that, he should definitely be more worried about being cursed. However, it wasn’t done intentionally or in bad faith. This is just the consequences of him, Sam, and Tucker fucking around and finding out when left unsupervised with the grimoire of a long dead witch.

In their defense, they didn’t know Tucker could use magic. This revelation both upset Tucker, who refused to be swayed from tech, and Sam, who thought she was a better fit for magic considering how goth she is. Danny hadn’t really cared, since he was too busy being turned into a dragon. At least it isn’t like with Dora’s necklace; Danny is still himself, can think clearly, and isn’t overcome by rage. 

He’s just… Danny. But as a dragon.

“Well, you do something to fix him then!” Tucker shouts, waving a hand in the air angrily, “Since you want to be so good at magic, you do it then!”

“I would if I could! But you’re the one who gets to use magic, so figure it out and turn Danny back!” Sam shouts back, getting in Tucker’s face with a fierce scowl.

Danny sighs, shifting uncomfortably. His room is not big enough for a dragon, and his back is starting to cramp up. He looks longingly out the window to the clear skies that call to him, and wonders when his friends will stop fighting. 

They keep shouting, so he doubts they’ll be able to focus on actually helping him for at least another hour.

The only silver lining about the situation is that Jazz and his parents are gone, taking the weekend to visit a few colleges so Jazz can decide which one she wants to go to. Though he’s been cursed into dragon form and his friends are yelling about it, at least his family can’t make it any worse with their attempts to ‘fix’ things. 

There’s a lull in the yelling, Sam and Tucker both turning their attention back to the grimoire. Danny shifts his wings, tail flicking slightly, and leans his head closer. He wishes he could help figure this out, but he can’t talk in this form, and any attempt at charades will destroy his room. 

His friends look focused, at least. So maybe they’ve decided to focus on finding solutions instead of fighting. 

“Here,” Sam says, shoving the grimoire over to Tucker roughly. “Try that.”

Tucker reads over the spell, then scoffs and pushes the grimoire back. “That’s not going to fix anything. Didn’t you read it? It clearly says truth is the greatest revenge, revealing one’s true form force it into light. It’s talking about making people who are secretly cruel turn ugly or something like that! It’s not going to do anything for Danny!”

“It says one’s true form and Danny’s is a human! That would work!”

And they go right back to arguing.

Danny sighs, turning to stare out the window again.

In any other circumstance, being a dragon would be so fun. He has wings! He’s big and has claws and can probably breathe fire! And it’s not making him act on animal instincts or anything! If he could just be outside…

He glances at Sam and Tucker again. 

Maybe he can go outside, enjoy the curse a bit before they figure out a way to undo it. Spend some time flying around with wings. 

All the curse did was turn him into a dragon. It just changed his form. If he still has his ghost powers, if the curse didn’t change his nature from halfa to dragon…

Carefully, Danny focuses on his tail and tries to make it intangible. There’s a strange sensation of ice running down his spine, then it goes into his tail. In the next second, his tail drops through the floor, and Danny bites down a grin. 

He is so out of here. 

He gives Sam and Tucker another glance; they’ve got their heads bent over the grimoire, paying no attention to him. 

Perfect.

Danny goes fully intangible and sinks through the floor of his bedroom, then maneuvers his way outside the house. As soon as he’s out, standing beneath the sunlight and able to stretch out his new body, Danny pulls his power back and takes a few careful steps on the grass, testing his balance. His wings shift on his back, and he stretches them out, feeling the way his new limbs move.

Everything feels natural, as if he’s always been a dragon.

Taking a deep breath, Danny spreads his wings out and takes off running. A few hard pumps of his wings gets him into the air, and he can’t help but let out a joyful roar. 

Distantly, he hears Tucker and Sam yelling again, but he’s too happy to be free of that room to care. Let them argue. He wants to have fun.

Staying in Amity Park is a no go; Val might go after him, thinking he’s a threat, and ghosts could pop out at any time to cause problems. He might as well take this chance to fly around wherever he wants. Chicago wouldn’t be too hard to reach with how fast he’s flying, but he’s been there before and doesn’t want to stay in Illinois. 

What other big city is nearby that he can fly to?

New York?

Or, better yet, Gotham. 

It’s definitely a bad idea, but if any city is able to handle a dragon appearing without warning, it would be Gotham. Plus, he might get to see some of the heroes in action! Sure, it’s the middle of the day, but surely a dragon is a good enough reason for Batman to show up before the sun sets. 

Mind made up, Danny flies up into the clouds and heads towards Gotham, following the roads out of Amity Park. 

The flight is quick. It takes barely over an hour to see the dark figures of Gotham’s tallest buildings, fog surrounding the city like something out of a horror movie. The sun glints off the ocean behind the city for a rare, cloudless day. He’s heard stories about Gotham’s weather, how dreary it is, the occasional acid rain, the gloominess of it all. As bad as his luck is, it seems that the sunny day is trying to give him something good to even it out after being cursed into a dragon.

Excited, Danny angles himself down, diving out of the lower clouds and shifts his wings to catch on a wind current that smoothly sends him towards the city.

Just to be careful, he goes invisible as he gets closer, staying out of sight once he enters the city proper. 

Noise overwhelms him immediately, cars honking and voices yelling, the occasional gunshot and sound of something breaking. It makes Danny wince, disoriented enough to make him falter as he flies above the streets.

Amity Park is quiet and peaceful in comparison, so much so that he hadn’t realized just how enhanced his senses had become in a dragon’s form. 

The sounds of everything are so much, and all the movement of such a big city is dizzying. At least he can’t smell anything but salt from the sea; if he had to deal with the constant smell of blood, guts, and sewage, he would find a way to fully die to get away from it.

He slows down to a smooth glide, weaving his way between buildings as he takes in the city. Even with the sun out, it’s gloomy, the tall buildings casting shadows across the streets, a mix of art deco and gothic architecture filling up the space. He wonders if he should find some place up high he can rest, maybe bathe in the sun for a bit until he felt like moving again. If he managed to fall asleep, that might give Sam and Tucker enough time to figure out how to undo the curse.

“Ow! Shit, that hurts.”

Or he indulge in his curiosity and check up on whoever just cursed loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise of Gotham.

It takes a minute of searching before Danny’s eyes zero in on a bright flash of yellow moving across rooftops. 

All other colors seem dull in comparison, and Danny has just enough time to think, Oh, there’s the dragon instincts taking over, before he’s flying after it, unable to focus on anything else.

Every time the yellow leaps out of the shadows, it’s as if it glows. As if Danny’s chasing sunlight. 

He gets close, but loses the yellow every so often with how he has to maneuver around buildings, putting his new flying abilities to the test in an effort to keep up.

Then the yellow comes to an abrupt stop. Danny can’t stop in time and flies past it, tilting his body and spreading out his wides as far as he can to make a tight turn. 

“I’m fine, just bruised up, but I feel like I’m being followed,” the yellow says to no one. There’s a pause, and then the yellow says, “I don’t see anything, is the thing.”

If the yellow has anything more to say, it doesn’t get the chance to do more than open its mouth before Danny’s crashing into it, tackling it to the ground. 

He’s elated as they roll across the roof, the living sunlight caught safe in his arms. He holds it close to his chest, protecting it until they come to a stop, dropping his invisibility as a low rumble builds in the back of his throat. The dragon brain has thoroughly taken over, and it takes far too long to wrestle control back from it.

Once he’s able to think more clearly, Danny looks down at the poor guy he’s caught and realizes, hey that’s a hero!

And then he realizes, that’s a hero. I fucked up.

He tries to say sorry, but all that comes out is a low chuff. The hero, who he can recognize as the Signal because who else wears mostly yellow in Gotham, leans back as much as he can, trapped in Danny’s grasp.

“Hey, dragon,” Signal says nervously. “I’m really hoping you didn’t catch me because you were looking for a snack.”

Danny huffs, bumping his head against Signal’s chest. He hopes he doesn’t come across as aggressive, because all he wants to do is laze around with a hero, his dragon brain happy to keep hold of its yellow sunshine.

He’s not going to let go of Signal, though. He intends to make the most of this moment while he can.

“Okay. You seem friendly? That’s good I guess.” Signal sighs, then tries to wiggle out of Danny’s grip. Danny doesn’t budge until Signal gasps and curls into himself, clearly in pain.

Worried, Danny lets go of him and tries to see what’s wrong, his snout poking against the Signal’s ribs.

The Signal hisses out a breath, trying to push Danny away. “Stop, don’t do that. Man, I hope my ribs aren’t broken. That would suck.”

That would suck. Rib injuries are the worst, and the bruises always seem to stay longer on ribs than anywhere else, in Danny’s experience. He would love to offer the Signal some ice, but as a dragon, he’s not sure how to use that particular power. He settles instead for backing off and making himself small, offering an apologetic rumble.

“Thanks,” Signal smiles, gingerly uncurling from where he’s hunched over, an arm crossing his stomach, protecting it. “I guess you’re friendly, then?”

Danny nods.

“...And you can understand me?”

Danny nods harder, a high pitched growl slipping out of his mouth. 

“That’s so cool. What are you doing here in Gotham?”

It’s not a yes or no question, so Danny’s stuck on how to answer when words are so far out of reach. He shrugs, wings shifting against his back, then carefully bumps his head against the Signal’s helmet. 

“Yeah, that was a bad question. Do you need help?”

Danny scrunches up his nose as he thinks. He is cursed, but so far, being a dragon isn’t all that bad. It sucks that he can’t talk, but everything else is cool! He just doesn’t want to be a dragon forever. But it’s nothing the Signal can help with, so Danny just shrugs again.

The Signal tilts his head. “Alright. I guess I’ll get going then, and you can chill up here.”

The low growl comes suddenly, without him even thinking, and Danny wraps himself around the hero again. Distantly, he thinks that he should stop, that this is technically holding the Signal in place against his will, but the much louder, dragon part of him is deeply upset by the thought of the Signal leaving while he’s injured. Danny can protect him, so there’s no need for him to go anywhere! In fact, he’s only safe as long as he’s with Danny!

He leans more of his weight onto the Signal until they both fall back onto the roof, pinning the hero in place. 

Danny tries to be gentle, but the impact still makes Signal groan, tensing up in pain.

Sorry, he tries to say, the words coming out in a low chuffing noise. He draws his tail up to curl around the Signal so he’s completely surrounded by Danny, kept safe from anything that would try to attack him. 

Letting out a breath, the Signal lightly knocks his head against Danny’s neck, the helmet barely felt through Danny’s scales. “Alright, Oracle, can you send someone to my location? I’m a bit stuck.”

It’s hard to hear, but Danny manages to make out a voice saying, “Black Bat is heading there now. What’s wrong?”

“I’m a bit stuck.”

“Injured?”

“Just my ribs, but that’s not really the problem. There’s a dragon who’s very determined to keep me on this roof.”

“A dragon,” the voice repeats. 

“Yeah. It seems to like me? But it’s also not letting me leave. So. I’m stuck.”

There’s a pause, then a soft burst of static before the voice says, “I’m going to send a message to everyone else just in case they’re able to provide any back up. I’m sure Tim is looking for an excuse to ditch Bruce at that accounting meeting.”

“Guess I’ll just wait to be rescued, then,” Signal says, sighing. Then he tilts his head up to look at Danny. “Is there some way you could talk to me? To pass the time. Maybe morse code? Do you know what that is?”

Dragon brain makes him stupid, apparently, because Danny does know morse code. He didn’t even think of alternative ways of communication once he discovered talking was impossible with his new vocal chords. 

It’s probably not even dragon brain. It’s just Danny brain that makes him like this.

Embarrassed, Danny drops his head onto the roof, drawing his tail closer to himself so it can cover his eyes, his best attempt at hiding his face. Then, with one sharp claw, he taps out Y.E.S.

“Oh! So, what’s up?”

N.O.T. D.RA.G.O.N. H.U.M.A.N. G.O.T. C.U.R.S.E.D.

“Why did you say you didn’t need help if you got cursed?!”

Danny wants to say it was an accident, but has no confidence that he can spell ‘accident’ correctly, so he goes with F.R.I.E.N.D. M.A.D.E. M.I.S.T.A.K.E.

“And can they fix it?”

I.D.K. T.H.E.Y. W.E.R.E. F.I.G.H.T.I.N.G. Danny huffs out a breath, flicking his tail in annoyance as he uncurls slightly, giving Signal some more breathing space. He doesn’t look as stressed out anymore, which is nice, but he still holds his ribs tenderly, careful not to move too much. G.O.T. B.O.R.E.D. L.E.F.T.

The Signal taps his own fingers against the roof, thinking after he takes in Danny’s words. “Do you think we can call them and see if they know how to fix it? I doubt you want to be a dragon forever.”

N.O. P.H.O.N.E.

“It’s cool, we can use mine.” And he pulls out a cell phone from… somewhere. Danny has no idea where. It’s like he blinked, and a phone suddenly appeared. His hero suit probably has a lot of hidden compartments and pockets to hold as much stuff as possible, but it’s so well designed that Danny can’t begin to think of where he’d put anything. Especially when his dragon brain keeps getting distracted by how nice the yellow is.

Danny taps out Tucker’s number when Signal asks for it, watching as the call connects and is put on speaker.

“Hello?” Tucker’s voice says, hesitant and a little distracted.

“Hi,” Signal responds with a mischievous smile, “Do you happen to be missing a dragon? Cause I’ve got one here who’s hoping he can get a little help from a friend.”

Danny hears something clatter on Tucker’s end, then Tucker starts yelling for Sam. He’s not quite able to bite back his laughter, entire body shaking with it. The Signal keeps his composure better, but he does share a glance with Danny that has him biting his lip, trying to keep his smile from growing.

“Where is he?!” Tucker demands, and for a moment Danny feels ashamed of how much stress he’s putting his best friends through. And then he remembers them fighting nonstop while ignoring him and doesn’t feel bad at all.

“Gotham.”

“...Gotham,” Sam repeats. Her voice is flat in the way it always gets before she verbally (and sometimes physically) tears someone apart. Danny winces hard enough that it jostles the Signal, making him glance back at Danny.

“Yeah. Gotham. He said he was cursed?”

Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah. Not my fault. It is Tucker’s fault, though.”

“I think I found the solution though! And also, it was an accident. You were the one who wanted to read the grimoire.”

He can tell they’re gearing up for another fight, so Danny lowers his face closer to the phone and lets loose a dark growl. It shuts them right up, and he briefly wonders about learning how to growl like that as a human, since it’s so effective.

Tucker clears his throat, and continues as if nothing happened. “Anyways. The cure. The thing that will make Danny stop being cursed.”

There’s another long pause.

“The cure…?” Signal prompts.

“Kisses.”

“Sorry, what?”

“It’s kisses.”

“Like… true love’s kiss?”

Danny hopes it’s not true love’s kiss. If it is, he’s never going to be human again. Who would his true love even be? As much as he liked Valerie, that ships sailed long ago. And he loves Sam and Tucker, but not quite like that. 

“No. Thankfully,” Sam says. “Just kisses. What matters is the amount, not the person it’s from. So whoever you are, we’re gonna need you to be giving Danny as many kisses as possible until he’s human again. We’re also on our way to Gotham now. Johnny’s offered us a ride.”

On cue, an engine revs loudly. 

“We’ll be there soon!” Tucker shouts over the engine, and the call ends just a second later. 

Danny huffs, shaking his head lightly.

“Interesting friends you got there,” Signal comments idly.

Y.E.S. Danny taps out. L.O.V.E. T.H.E.M.

The Signal sits up and moves away from Danny, who has to stomp down the urge to curl around the hero tighter to keep him in place. He stands up, putting his phone away, and looks over Danny. His gaze feels like a physical weight, moving from his face, and the horns on his head, to the scales covering him, to his wings and tail.

His tails flicks back and forth nervously. Danny can’t get it to stop.

“Dragon,” someone new says, startling Danny. He spots the newcomer immediately, a lithe figure in all black perched on the ledge of the roof. Her voice is rough and he can’t see her face at all, fully covered as it is in her mask.

This must be Black Bat. He doesn’t know much about her; no one does, with how she’s managed to avoid being photographed and how rarely she is seen by anyone at all. He honestly wasn’t sure if she was real or not, but here she is.

“Hey,” Signal greets easily, “We need to kiss him better.” 

Black Bat tilts her head. “Kiss… dragon?”

“He’s cursed. And kisses will fix him. Not true love’s kiss, but just a lot of kisses.”

“True love’s kiss?” she repeats.

“Oh, shit. I guess you haven’t read any fairy tales?” Black Bat shakes her head, and Danny wonders how she’s managed to avoid all fairy tales for so long. They’re usually among the first stories children are exposed to. “Yeah, in a lot of those stories, a curse can only be broken from a kiss by someone by love.”

Black Bat nods slowly, and it’s clear she doesn’t really understand, but she does hop off the ledge and walk over to Danny. She pulls up her mask to reveal her mouth, then looks to the Signal for guidance.

“Like this,” Signal says, then leans over and presses a soft kiss to Danny’s cheek.

If he were human, Danny would be blushing madly. As it is, he has to force himself to stay still and not hide his face in his hands, claws and all, from how flustered he is.

Black Bat follows in suit, dropping a delicate kiss to the top of his head. 

Danny loses track of how many kisses he gets, all over his face, beyond flustered by the amount of affection two heroes are showering him in. It’s just to break the curse, but it’s still a lot of kisses! 

Signal kisses the tip of his nose, and there’s a flash of light. Danny feels himself change, growing smaller, his human softness returning to him. It’s barely a few seconds, and then Danny’s human again, sitting on the roof with the Signal and Black Bat standing over him.

They blink at each other for a long moment, then Black Bat smiles and pats the top of his head. 

Danny smiles. He knows his cheeks are red, can feel how hot they are himself, and ducks his head, too embarrassed to look at either of them.

“How are you feeling?” Signal asks, crouching down to be eye level with Danny.

He tries to answer, but all that comes out is a hoarse rasp. He winces and brings a hand up to his throat, then shrugs and gives the Signal a thumbs up.

He clears his throat. This time, he manages to whisper, “Thank you.”

Black Bat gives him a cheerful wave, then hops back onto the ledge and jumps off. Signal barely takes his eyes off Danny enough to give her a nod goodbye. He reaches out and brushes Danny’s hair off his forehead some before his fingers trail down the side of his face. 

“I’ll admit, you looked cool as a dragon,” Signal says, “But you’re much cuter like this.”

Danny gives in and hides his face in his hands. The Signal laughs, warm and bright, and kisses his forehead. 

“Come on, let’s make sure your friends can find you.”

“They’re going to be so annoying about this,” Danny mutters.

“It’s how friends show affection.”

“Seriously, though, thank you. I know being tackled by a dragon isn’t what anyone expects. Did I hurt you? Your ribs…”

The Signal shrugs. “Nah. I’m all good. Just a little bruised, but it’ll heal quickly enough. Though, you’re more than welcome to give me a kiss to help me feel better.”

Danny shoves him lightly for the teasing, but he does pull the Signal back for a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It’s only fair, after all.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #this was supposed to be written last week... cries. work killed me but ghostlights is bringing me back to life #with a bonus cass!! i love cass in case u couldnt tell #duke is gonna roll up at the cave for evening training. have people insist he ice his ribs after they see the bruising #and he'll say 'no its fine a dragon kissed it better' and not elaborate #everyone has questions but damian is the only one upset that HE wasnt called to help the dragon when they know he's good w goliath #this doesnt change even after duke tells them the dragon was a cursed boy who is now human again #damian is lowkey wondering if he can find tucker to also be turned into a dragon. just for fun. #it'll give duke an excuse to see danny again so obv hes gonna say yes. #meet cute? no. meet DRAGON

[celestialwrites]

family/found family dialogue prompts ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

@celestialwrites for more!!

♡ “why’d you do it?” “because you’re my sister and i love you.”

♡ “betray me again and my dagger will find your throat faster than you can spew a sorry apology.” “it’s good to be home.”

♡ “blood will never shake our bond, believe that.”

♡ “family first?” Character nods in agreement, “family first.”

♡ “those people will never know you as i do, blood doesn’t define family.”

♡ “you may have been born my brother, but i chose you as an ally.”

♡ “what happened to starting a war?” “can’t do it without my baby (brother/sister/sibling)”

♡ “i changed your diapers!” “now that was just a bad decision on your part.”

♡ “you were more of a father to me than he ever was, just so you know.”

♡ “he chose me to be his family. me. i can’t let him down now.”

♡ “you were born for greatest, as your sorry excuse of a father figure, i attend to help you reach that greatest.”

♡ “looks like you’re stuck with me now.” “i’m cool with that.”

♡ “thank you for teaching me what a family looks like.”

♡ “i was just looking for my family!” character A sobs, “i thought we were your family?” character B whispers.

♡ “how do you know if you like someone?” “uh, why’d you ask me?” “cause you’re like my brother and you’re old so i’d thought you would know.”

♡ “you’re not just my best friend, you’re my family, don’t you know that?!”

♡ “family by blood is one thing, but a chosen family? that is something quite special that most won’t experience, a group of unique individuals all choosing each other. something truly special indeed.”

♡ “can i stay with you?” “yeah, kid. you can stay with me.”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!

#i’ve written two prompt lists tonight so make sure to keep an eye out for the next one!👀 #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writing prompts #dialogue prompt #prompts #romance prompts #fluffy prompts #fluffy romance #domestic fluff #angst prompt #angsty prompts #angsty prompt #writing community #writer community #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing prompt #writing list #fluff prompts #fluffy prompt #creative prompts #story prompts #prompt #prompt list

[morganbritton132]

I love the newer teachers not knowing who Eddie is and visiting Steve at his house and wondering how they can afford such a nice house. I can imagine that they live in a house way above a teachers salary, much less a teacher with presumably, a lot of medical bills. They see gold records hanging on the walls and all of Eddie’s awards on a bookshelf and they are trying to connect the dots to who Eddie is.

David’s first impression of Steve is, admittedly, not great.

He was hired as a long-term substitute halfway through the school year and technically, Mr. Harrington was the only teacher on their floor not to introduce himself to him. They’re supposed to cover the eighth grade lunch period together, but Steve hasn’t shown up once since David was started three days ago.

Instead, the principal covered for him.

Cindy McCullen, the gossipy history teacher across the hall from him, says that it’s because of favoritism. She says that Principal Moreno always lets her favorites run rampant around the school and lets them do whatever they want, especially if they’re tenured. Steve Harrington is the most egregious example of blatant favoritism.

David starts to form an opinion about Mr. Harrington in his mind that only gets worse with every story he hears from Cindy. So, it’s a bit of a shock when Steve shows up for lunch duty the next day with a whole ass service dog.

He feels like an asshole.

Especially because Steve is so apologetic about missing the last three days and leaving David to ‘the wolves’ during his first week, “Is this your first teaching job? I’ve heard from the kids that you’re doing great!”  

He makes a conscious effort after that to get to know Steve and to stop letting other people form his opinions for him. Though, admittedly. He kinda fucks that up too.

The first time David meets Eddie, he thinks that he’s Steve’s brother.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t talk about his life outside of work. It’s just that he doesn’t go into a lot a detail. David knows that he’s married to a man, that he’s from Indiana originally, and he might have a kid. Maybe? A girl name Erica that tells him what a brony is and how they ruin everything.

Hell, David’s not even entirely sure he knows what Ozzy is in service of. Steve just said that he bumped his head one too many times and now he has a dog so his husband stops worrying so much.

The only surefire thing that David knows is that Steve has a brother that’s a bit of a dork. He has great hair and is really smart, but lacks tact. Steve loves him. You can tell by the way that he talks about the guy.

So one day, David is in the teacher’s lounge heating up a cup of Easy Mac while Steve is sitting with his head down at one of the tables. He’s about to suggest that Steve go home and sleep off whatever cold he has when a guy with long hair and a leather jacket sticks his head in the room and declares, “You look like shit.”

Steve doesn’t even lift his head when he flips him off which is – whoa, not something that David would expect from Mr. Harrington. He makes himself busy with stirring his mac and cheese while the two bicker with each other which is, admittedly, childish.

Leather Jacket’s main argument for why Steve has to listen to him and go home is because he’s older. Steve croaks out that that is bullshit and Leather Jacket threatens to call their Uncle Wayne if Steve doesn’t listen. He eventually agrees.

Before they leave, Leather Jacket sticks his hand out to David and introduces himself as the cooler Mr. Harrington (that gets a laugh out of Steve).

So, color him shocked when Steve invites their event committee over to his house.

David hasn’t even fully gotten over how nice of a neighborhood Steve lives in on a teacher and retiree’s salary when Leather Jacket gets introduced as Eddie, the husband Steve has mentioned. Then he just casually mentions a red carpet like, what?

And the craziest part is that he’s asked about his husband before!

Steve mentioned once that his husband was out of town and when David asked what he did for work, Steve said that he was retired. He said that his husband can play guitar and that one of their friends (James Hetfield) needed a last minute guitarist for some kind of fair (Coachella) so Eddie went to help out.

He definitely worded it like playing guitar was just a hobby that his husband has, not like. Not like platinum records lining the hallway to their bathroom or the picture of Steve and Eddie in Vegas with KISS stuck to the fridge. He swears the note on the dry erase board by the garage entrance signed ‘Dave’ is in Dave Grohl’s handwriting.

There’s an Grammy on the bookshelf by the fireplace.

Who the hell is Steve Harrington?

Better question: Who the hell is Eddie Munson?

Kathy laughs the entire drive to her house and she is still laughing when he drops her off. The only thing she says that could even be considered an answer is, “I think he’s on Tiktok. Start there.” 

#Day 2 of not really answering the prompt #I thought that it’d be funny if Steve was so casual about Eddie’s fame that it comes off like his husband plays Wonderwall in their garage #and then the rest of this was written #I like to imagine that David goes back to school and gossips with the other first year teachers and all try to figure out who Steve is on #their lunch breaks. they all nearly lose it when they find an article about the Starcourt Mall fire and Steve was mentioned in it #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[feverdreamsanddelusions]

we really need more ship whump. ocean whump. stuck on a boat. whumpee going outside at night because there's not really a reason they should be restrained. because all the can see around them is the pitch black ocean stretching into infinity

#it's funny because everyone keeps saying there's huge potential but i only ever see the posts about the missed opportunity #and never someone actually sitting down and writing it #and now i am in........ the same boat #and the boat is not getting written #this is the most boat whump you'll get from me probably #whump #whump prompt #whump scenario

[spacedace]

Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa

Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?

So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.

Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).

And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.

And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.

Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:

“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.

“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.

Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.

“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”

Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.

“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”

Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.

He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”

Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”

Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.

#spaced asks and ace answers #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #duke thomas #dick grayson #batpham #batfam #danny hates christmas so fucking much #you know he's on the naughty list just for his various assasination attempts on santa's life #Bruce didn't know this kid was a half ghost god-king of an entire infinite dimension of death he just saw a sad kid in a bad situation #it wouldn't have changed anything if he'd known Danny had adoption bait written all over him #but he at least would have been able to better prepare for the kind of supernatural shenanigans that would pop up #Duke took one look at 4 of his brothers standing around a burning christmas tree at 3 in the morning holding gas cans & lighters & thought: #not my circus not my monkeys #he was the day shift vigilante he didn't get paid to deal with his family's shit in the middle of the night #he didn't get paid *period* he wasn't going to do volunteer chaos gremlin wrangling #Dick just wanted *one* day of relative quiet #he should have known that wasn't going to happen

[stealingyourbones]

Short DPXDC Prompts #881

The Daily Planet hired a new journalist for their politics sector. According to the gossip Lois heard, the new hire is a meta who impressed Perry on a potential scoop on a major violation of the Meta Protection Act. Perry instructed her to show the new guy the ropes, it’s a bit under her pay grade but she accepted. She can take a small break writing columns to train a newbie. A knock on her office door had her pause writing a new column on another Lex Luthor scandal. “Come in.” The door opened. On the other side was a man even larger than Clark. His flaming hair, red eyes, clawed fingers and massive frame cast him as an extremely imposing figure. Good thing that Lois is used to imposing, but this man was a different form of towering than Clark. While Clark did his best to look small and as unassuming as possible; this man’s shoulders stood tall. His dark suit and circular sunglasses gave him a powerful and menacing energy that was fully intentional. It’s eerily similar to how Bruce held himself during his business meetings, not nearly as menacing as his Batman persona; but still strikes as serious and imposing as he directs his company as the CEO of Wayne Industries. The looming figure met her eyes and nodded, giving her what she assumed to be a grin meant to make him less menacing, his razor sharp canines prevented it from being very effective. She mentally makes a reminder to get him lessons from her husband on making his approach more friendly. Clark has lots of experience on the matter. “Mrs. Lois Lane.” His voice was low and gruff, a deep rumbling tone that equally sounded soothing and dangerous. Shutting the door and walking over to a chair opposite her desk. He stuck out a hand, his claws glinting in the light. “The names Dan Phantom ma’am. It’s very nice to meet you.” She noted with mild surprise that he moved more deftly than she suspected a man of his bulk would. Smiling, she grabbed the outstretched hand and shook his hand firmly. Lois smiled and shook his hand firmly. He had the same gentleness as Clark’s handshakes. Still incredibly strong, but a feeling of carefulness. Like her hand was made of glass and he was afraid it’d shatter if he grasped it too firmly. Lois mentally filed ‘Superstrength’ in the lists of potential powers this man might have. “Likewise Dan. Welcome to the Daily Planet.”

#dpxdc #bones prompts #this is written p damn janky but im trying yall