#next prompt: green

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 76

Tim has no idea whether to laugh or cry. Bruce sends him away from Gotham to stay safe from Red Hood, yet who is standing there, in the Titan Tower, but the man himself. And if he was attacking or something then fine, he could deal with it. But no, the man is standing there, in the kitchen, cooking like it’s an everyday thing. Like sure he’s cooking angrily and Tim swears he can see some sort of eye glow in the helmet, but it’s not like he’s actually threatening any of them?? The literal crime lord has been hissing about them not having any food and being out of medical supplies and who decided to leave a bunch of teens alone to take care of themselves. Which. Rude, he’s been taking care of himself for years, and both Raven and Beast Boy have too! What type of scheme is this?!

Jason was going to go through with his attack on the Tower, he really was. But seriously, they didn’t even have any medical supplies, their cupboards were practically empty of food, and they didn’t even have any cleaning supplies. For fuck’s sake he’d gotten in so easily and it was a giant tower shaped like a T- everyone knew where it was! Honestly it’s not his fault the pit rage went from being pissed to the literal child- which uh, huh he’ll have to freak out about that later- to raging about how he took better care of the alley kids than the heroes were taking care of their kids so guess whose going to have to fucking step up! 

[normalzucchini]

Alhocol does have effect on Danny, contrary to him saying one can't get dead drunk, when they're already dead. In reality, alhocol influences him a lot more than normal people.

So obviously when he gets black out drunk from one little sip of beer, while he's watching Despicable me with Tucker and Sam, he has the genius idea, hey, why shouldn't he steal the moon? He likes space, and he's dead! He never got any compensation for that, and all the shit he has to deal with, so little compensation wouldn't hurt right?

That's at least the last thing Danny remembers thinking. But now that he's awake with a killer hangover, his sister screaming at him and showing him the news about a new rogue who stole the moon and caused all the shitty consequences that come w that. Like the tide being gone. Oops

[sunfloweraro]

LUtober day 26: Ruins

Warriors is tired. So is Sky. They find comfort in each other.

(Part 2 with comfort)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Sky wasn’t meant to be awake. They finally had the opportunity to sleep at an inn—a safe place, where they could all rest through the night. By all means, he should be taking advantage of such a treat. And yet, his body refused to relax, to settle into the soft blankets and rest. The rest of the group had long-since drifted off by now, and somehow, Sky found himself staring at the ceiling, eyes and chest aching.

Rustling nearby. Sky’s ears flicked in the direction, eyes following in time to see Warriors slip out of the room without a backward glance. Sky waited five, then ten, minutes before he followed their Captain, concern pressing heavy against his chest. A quick glance at the bathroom to confirm it was empty, and he stepped outside, wincing under the bite of the cold and drawing his sailcloth close. The night was dark, the moon covered by dense clouds, but Warriors hadn’t gone far; Sky spotted him sitting atop one of the many, many ruins littering Wild’s era, swallowed up by crumbling stone and splintered wood and looking too small for someone normally larger than life itself.

“Can’t sleep?” Sky asked as he drifted over to his friend, his fatigue making him feel like a ghost. Warriors flinched, head whipping up, eyes meeting Sky’s briefly, just long enough for Sky to realise why Warriors was out here in the first place. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hurried over, settling alongside Warriors, the sight of his tear-stained face one Sky knew he wouldn’t easily forget.

Warriors said nothing. When Sky reached out to touch his shoulder, Warriors shied away from the contact. Something heavy settled in Sky’s gut.

“Wars?”

“I’m—Don’t worry, Sky. I’ll be back inside in a minute.”

“Nonsense,” Sky huffed. “Something’s wrong.” He was stating the obvious, but he was much too exhausted to be delicate, much too…

Warriors sighed. “I’m so tired.”

…tired.

“I tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t calm down—it’s like we’re in the middle of a fight. I think… I think all these months are starting to catch up to me.”

A sad sound escaped Sky and he shifted closer, not yet touching, but supportive all the same. Warriors inhaled, as if to apologise, but Sky spoke first, his voice soft, fragile: “Me too.” Just the admission left his eyes burning with tears, his breath hitching.

“Sky…?”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” Sky confessed, eyes firmly in his lap. “And yet I’m so tired.” His eyes slipped shut, warm tears trailing down his cheeks, emotions that had been pushed to the side for far too long brimming to the surface.

Warriors sniffled, nudged him in the side now that he knew he wouldn’t be judged. “What a pair we make,” he joked weakly, his voice breaking as more tears escaped. Sky leaned against his friend in response, an exhausted sigh escaping him. He wouldn’t break down, wouldn’t sob or shout. He was too drained, too strung out from months of adventuring, of keeping it all together, to do anything more than let the tears slip down his cheeks, pattering to the ground.

Warriors hummed in agreement, leaning his head over Sky’s. Tears dripped into Sky’s hair, an assurance that he wasn’t alone in this. Even as more tears spilled down his cheeks under the cover of the night, Sky found a pulse of warmth pressed against his chest, comforting him. He hoped Warriors felt the same.

“What do we do, Sky?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Sky confessed. “Can we stay here a while longer?”

Warriors took in a shuddering breath. Another patter over Sky’s hair. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Thanks, Wars.”

“Same here, Sky.”

“We’ll figure something out. Together.”

“Yeah,” Warriors said, his voice more hopeful than Sky had heard it in weeks. “Together.”

[jumpstrike]

[dangerous-disposition]

so i was watching some of my dashcam footage that i deliberately saved bc of Calgary Driver Shenanigans taking place in proximity to me and i straight up hate people who brake-check so much

pulling that shit is so dangerous, even at "low" speeds. and even if someone is riding your asshole hard, you don't brake-check them. as soon as you do a brake-check, you have now made yourself the more reckless driver in that equation.

you should never, ever do something to deliberately cause a collision when operating heavy machinery.

like, i cannot even fathom the kind of self-absorbed loser you have to be to play chicken like that in a way that could get someone fucking killed.

just... like... i keep thinking back to this accident that happened here one or two years ago, where a pick-up truck brake-checked a minivan on the highway in less than ideal driving conditions and the van spun out, and then rolled multiple times into the ditch, and one of the children in the van was ejected. the pick-up truck didn't even stop and as far as i'm aware was never even found. like that driver fucking killed a kid.... and for what? the driver of the van maybe pissed them off? was driving a bit too close? like please, if you are someone who brake-checks because you assume you'll be just fine if you get hit bc "lol i'm insured" you should always assume that the worse possible outcome could happen. when operating heavy machinery going more than 20mph around other people also operating heavy machinery going the same or higher speeds, you should always be thinking about the worst case scenario of pulling a dumbass move that affects multiple ppl.

like when you brake-check someone, you think this is a tussle that's just between you and that person, yeah? and you feel justified because maybe this person is driving too close, or they seem distracted, or maybe they pissed you off earlier, right? Oh, but I bet you looked all around, considered all of the variables, and determined that should an accident occur, it's only the two of you that's gonna have your day ruined, right? I'm sure you're cocky enough to think that. Like I'm positive (sarcastic) you've thought about all of these things before brake-checking:

the other vehicles in the road other than you and the person behind you

is there a big truck behind the person behind you that is going to have a fucking heart attack trying to stop?

the road conditions in general

what if the driver behind you doesn't have new tires? what if one of their tires blows out trying to brake and they spin out?

are their pedestrians you might be endangering if your stupid move causes an accident?

what if the other driver has kids in the car? passengers in general? your beef is with the driver, but causing an accident would be punishing their innocent passengers too

what if the accident you cause totals your car? are you able to be without a car?

what if the accident totals the other person's car? what if their livelihood depends on them having a car?

what if the other person doesn't have insurance? yeah, that's illegal, but it does you no good. if you think your insurance is going to pick up the tab in that case with no fight at all, you're naive as fuck. like unless you have complete car insurance and not just liability insurance, your insurance company will fucking fight any claim you make. even with complete car insurance, they fight claims. remember, car insurance companies are in the business of hoarding the money you pay them. they do not actually want to pay out.

what if the other driver has a dashcam and can definitively prove that you braked for no reason other than to endanger literally everyone else on the road?

like that's just some of the things to fucking consider re: brake-checking. and when the list of risks is that long while incomplete, what do you even gain by brake-checking?

brake-checking is petty, stupid, and fucking reckless. it can seriously injure people that aren't even involved in your beef, and it can even kill people. brake-checking is some of the most self-absorbed behaviour to have behind the wheel, and people who do it are fucking losers.

period.

even if the other driver is following too close, or driving aggressively. you don't make an already dangerous situation even more dangerous oh my fucking god like why isn't that common fucking sense.

[etchedstars]

sometimes i think that nothing can top the one (1) memoir piece i wrote and then immediately after im like "no thats stupid as an artist im always growing and changing" and then i reread it and remember that no yeah that was peak writing and nothing i ever create will beat it

[bragganhyl]

ugh

[jeahreading]

The Empress's sentence (Part - 2)

(Part-1)

I rose, trembling with fear still not daring to look up. 

"I Apologise for any misdeed I have done, I will repent for my mistakes, I will serve you for as long as would please you, I will do anything, please please, forgive me!" I kept repeating this like a parrot, hoping against all hope that my inevitable fate didn't come to pass. 

"The Grain that had been delivered by you to feed our soldiers was tainted, having consumed it, all of them are suffering because of the poison in their bodies and several of them have been found dead" the same voice said in a regal manner not once giving away even a sliver of emotion, was it hatred, was it indifference I couldn't tell.

"What? I- I would never do something of that sort, Your Highness, It must have been someone else, I had checked every single gunny before sending it in, it has never- never happened in the many years I have been providing for our men!" I pleaded, manic fear burrowing it's way through my body. 

"You have the arrogance to imply that someone that I have entrusted with supplying the grain, is a mole?t" She merely raised an eyebrow

"No- that's not what- I meant" I realized my mistake a few moments too late.

"You are quite insolent it seems," she sighed "-I give you two choices. I could either send you to the Alerina or I could throw you to Orias"

There was this word that my father had once said while we were both playing chess "Zugzwang" When I heard it I laughed out loud, what kind of word was that? it meant "A situation in which a player is forced to make a disadvantageous move", now that I was the player and I had to make a choice, a choice which now that I look back I wonder, if I had chosen differently what the consequences would have been. 

"Please Your Grace, give me one more chance, This will never happen again, please, please" I could stand no longer, my knees buckled underneath and I crashed to the floor still muttering apologies.

"Alerina or Orias" she repeated, more firmly this time.

All my life's work, everything, had come to this, to this decision. Whatever I chose would decide what happened to me. 

I thought about going to The Alerina and a shiver went down my spine, a chill settled into my chest, my only other choice was Orias, the beast, It was terrifying to think about, what would become of me. I'd seen bodies disposed off into the river, mangled flesh, rotting bodies and most of all the smell, oh, the smell was horrendous and it settled under your skin like an irremovable layer of animal fat. Was it really better than going to the Alerina, I wouldn't know...

"I- I choose to go to Orias" I couldn't stop myself from choking halfway, 

At that moment I could have never guessed what would happen next...

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A traditional watercolour painting of Pat and Amber from the movie Green Room. They're standing next to each other, eyes locked. Their bodies are turned towards the viewer, and the art stops around their chest. Pat is holding an open Sharpie, while Amber is holding a razor and a lit lighter. It illuminates them in a yellow glow, creating dramatic dark green lighting on them and the background. The background is concentric green circles that get darker as they go out, with most of the background being very dark. It resembles a weak light source in a dark area. The colour scheme of the piece is mostly green and yellow, with limited use of pink and orange. In the top left corner "#3 - film with a green letterboxd poster" is written in a black pen.]

#3 - Film with a green Letterboxd poster

Film - Green Room

[eldritchships]

Deletes Gaxton from this image. Adds myself. Goodnight.

[dior-luxury]

HAVE TOU CONSIDERED. doing this kiss and make out prompt but flipped? i.e. THEY drag you into a closet/classroom to kiss kiss fall in love? I imagine for some chars. it would be the result of a bad day and for others just ‘cause!.

ANYWAYS. sorry if your requests are overloaded. just. an idea. <3 love your writing!!!! Ty for your service 🙏🙏

Kiss And Makeout *FLIPPED

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff/romance - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] leona . jade . floyd . vil . malleus . lilia

- [𝐩:𝐬] Intense kissing/makeout . Physical intimacy (non-explicit) . Sudden physical contact/grabbing . Slight unpredictability (Floyd being Floyd) . Mild dominance/control . Reader being pinned against a wall briefly . Slight possessiveness . Teasing/biting .

Note: Guys I know the tags are misleading into it being borderline 'smut' but I PROMISE it's just suggestive 🙏 . Also I kinda cooked with this one 😍

Leona Kingscholar

The sun’s slanting low across the Savannaclaw dorm courtyard, casting long shadows that stretch like sleepy lions. You're on your way to the library, arms full of notes for a shared class—when a familiar, rough hand loops around your wrist from behind.

"Oi," Leona drawls, already half-lidded, already smirking. “Ditch whatever you’re doing.”

Before you can argue—he’s pulling you along, not with urgency, but with that effortless kind of command only he seems to exude. You try to complain, maybe mention that you’ve got work to do, but his reply is a chuckle as dry and warm as the desert wind.

You end up in an unused classroom—somewhere tucked behind the alchemy wing, the door creaking faintly shut behind him as dust motes swirl in the light. The desks are all pushed to the back, stacked like towers of forgotten effort, and Leona leans against one, dragging you in with a lazy tug around your waist.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he accuses, voice low and thick, like he’s half-asleep—but his golden green eyes are very, very awake.

"I was studying," you breathe, barely getting the words out before he pulls you in the rest of the way.

His mouth finds yours with that slow-burning hunger that always leaves your knees weak. He kisses like he fights—possessive, measured, and way too confident. His hand slides up your back, keeping you flush against him, as if he’s daring you to try pulling away. You can taste the heat of the afternoon sun still clinging to his skin, that wild-sand scent of him curling around your senses.

Leona kisses like it’s something he deserves. Like you’re a prize he’s claimed and won’t be returning. He pulls back only to speak against your lips.

"You smell like ink and stress. I'm fixing that."

The makeout drags on—longer than you should allow. One of your hands ends up tangled in his hair, the other fisted in the fabric of his uniform coat. He doesn’t stop until you’re breathless, dazed, lips tingling.

When he finally lets you go, he’s got that smug grin, even as his thumb brushes your lower lip. “There. Now you’ve got something better to think about than test scores.”

You try to glare at him, but your heart’s still beating way too loud in your ears.

And Leona? He just stretches and yawns like this was all part of his nap schedule.

Jade Leech

It starts off innocently enough. You’re helping Jade carry potion ingredients to one of the smaller prep rooms near Octavinelle—some obscure mushroom extracts and strange marine flora with names you can't even pronounce. The corridor is damp and quiet, the kind of silence that feels like it’s listening.

Jade says something—soft, quiet, amused—as he opens the storage room. His eyes linger on you for a second too long, and that’s when you should’ve known. There’s something in the glint of his gaze, the way his smile stretches a touch too wide, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the last jar from your hands.

Then, click. The door closes behind you.

“Jade?” you ask, blinking in the dim glow of the potion room’s crystal lights.

His hands are on your waist in the next breath, fingers curling like vines. “Forgive me,” he says, voice smooth and deadly charming. “But I’ve been thinking about kissing you since this morning’s lecture.”

He tilts his head, watching your reaction with those sharp, mismatched eyes. You barely get out a sound before he leans in—and then his mouth is on yours, cool and commanding. Jade kisses with precision. Like he’s studied every reaction you’ve ever had, and now he’s crafting the perfect blend of teasing and temptation.

One hand stays on your lower back, the other rises to cradle your jaw as he deepens the kiss, drawing you further into him like the tide. There’s something unnerving about how calm he remains—even as his lips part yours, even as your breath hitches and your knees threaten to give way.

He chuckles softly against your mouth.

“Your heartbeat is quite fast,” he whispers, brushing his lips along the corner of your mouth, then to your neck. “Are you afraid? Or simply excited?”

You can’t answer—not with your brain fogged by the taste of him, the feel of his hands, the delicious chill of his voice echoing in your ear. The room smells faintly of sea-salt and mushrooms, and something deeply Jade—subtle, spiced, unsettling in the most intoxicating way.

Eventually, when he pulls back, your lips feel swollen and your thoughts scattered.

“You’re such a curious creature,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “I should study you more often.”

You stumble out of that room later looking like you just got hit by a spell—and Jade? He walks out perfectly composed, with that same unnervingly polite smile on his face. Like he didn’t just wreck your entire nervous system with his mouth.

Floyd Leech

The day is too normal. You can feel it in the air—like the calm before one of Floyd’s storms.

You’re just walking past the Octavinelle hallway, when you feel arms suddenly wrap around your shoulders from behind—too fast, too tight, too Floyd.

“Shrimpyyyyyy~!” he sings against your ear, his voice stretching like taffy. “There you are~!”

You barely have time to react before he’s pulling you sideways—off course, off balance, and into some small, cramped janitor’s closet. It smells like cleaning supplies and old sea salt, and Floyd's eyes gleam in the dark like a predator who’s just cornered something tasty.

“Floyd, what are you doing—?”

“Shhhh,” he hums, pressing a finger to your lips. “I was bored.”

The door clicks shut behind him. You're trapped between the wall and Floyd’s looming grin.

“But now I’ve got you, and you’re way more fun.”

His hands are already on your waist, sliding under your jacket like he owns every inch of your skin. His lips crash into yours like a riptide—wild and messy and Floyd. There’s no rhythm, no pause, just overwhelming sensation. Teeth nip at your bottom lip. A low growl of amusement vibrates in his chest when you gasp.

He pulls back just an inch, enough to look at your kiss-swollen lips and flushed face. “Aww, lookit you,” he coos, voice syrupy and sharp. “All red like a little shrimp. Cute.”

You barely have time to reply before he's kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s trying to claim the breath from your lungs. The tight space only makes it hotter—his body pressed up against yours, nowhere to escape, nothing to focus on but the wild way he kisses you like he might eat you and like he might never stop.

At some point, his hat falls off, and your shirt is rumpled, and there’s laughter—his and yours—mingling between kisses. Floyd stops only when he feels like it, which means you’re left dazed and breathless while he sways lazily, totally unbothered.

“Mmm. You’re fun. Let’s do this again tomorrow, kay?”

He presses a soft, playful kiss to your cheek before throwing open the closet door like you weren’t just making out like lovesick criminals.

You’re pretty sure you’re not getting anything productive done today.

Vil Schoenheit

It happens during a late-night rehearsal.

Vil’s been directing the stage club with sharp eyes and sharper critique, and you’ve been running lines off to the side, helping, watching, admiring. He’s in his element—glowing even under harsh fluorescent lights, every motion graceful and deliberate. But every now and then, his gaze flicks toward you. Not long. Just a glance. A pause.

When the rehearsal ends and the others file out, exhausted and murmuring, Vil’s hand brushes yours as you help him gather props.

"You," he says, not even looking at you—just feeling you there. “With me.”

You blink, confused, but follow him anyway, up toward the costume closet at the back of the auditorium. The second the door clicks shut, he turns sharply, and suddenly, the air is very different.

“You’ve been distracting me all night,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Do you enjoy driving me to the edge of my focus?”

“Vil—”

His name barely leaves your lips before he kisses you—hard, precise, intentional. There’s no hesitation, no test run. His mouth is demanding, confident, and so, so good. His fingers slip under your jaw, tilting your head just so, like he’s posing you for a photo—only this time, the only thing he’s interested in perfecting is the sound of your breath catching under him.

You make a small sound in the back of your throat and he hums approvingly.

“Pretty,” he says against your lips, voice like silk with thorns. “But I want more.”

You gasp when he kisses you again, this time deeper—pressing you gently but firmly against the back wall, surrounded by velvet capes and half-hung feather boas. His scent—rosewater, powder, and something earthy—completely envelopes you, and all you can think is that this is Vil, and he’s kissing you like he’s crafting a masterpiece.

When he finally pulls back, your lipstick’s smudged (if you had any on) and your knees are weak. He brushes your hair back into place with meticulous fingers and studies your flushed face with faint amusement.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, smoothing the collar of your shirt. “You’re an absolute mess. Honestly.”

But there’s a light in his eyes—a smug satisfaction—and before you can respond, he kisses you again, slow and teasing this time, like a reward.

As you leave the closet, he doesn’t hide the slight smug curve of his lips.

“You’ll be thinking about this all night,” he murmurs—and he's right.

Malleus Draconia

It starts with a storm. Of course it does.

You're walking across campus in the early evening, books tucked under your arm, clouds brooding overhead like they’ve been watching you. The wind picks up suddenly, ruffling your hair—and before you can even think of running for cover, a familiar voice calls your name.

You turn, and Malleus is already there.

There’s always something otherworldly about the way he appears—silent, graceful, like a dream blooming out of mist. “You're walking alone,” he says, like it's a crime. “Come. You'll catch cold.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he gently takes your wrist and leads you to a tucked-away building near the edge of campus—a half-forgotten stone structure, unused, echoing with the scent of dust and damp air. He pushes open the creaking door to a tiny, empty classroom. The windows rattle as thunder rolls in the distance.

“You shouldn’t wander in the storm,” he murmurs, voice deep and rich with ancient cadence. “Something might take you.”

And then he steps closer—like the storm outside is leaking into the room through his presence. He watches you carefully, like he's weighing the moment, deciding something. His hand lifts—long fingers tracing the edge of your jaw so lightly it gives you chills.

“I’ve been… yearning,” he confesses softly, the word hanging in the space like lightning just before it strikes. “May I…?”

You don’t have time to respond before he kisses you.

Malleus kisses with reverence—slow, deliberate, almost ceremonial. Like he’s not just kissing you—he’s binding you, like this moment is a spell only you and he will remember. His lips are cool at first, but warmth builds quickly, rushing into your chest as his hand slips around your waist to draw you closer.

He holds you like something precious—untouchable to the rest of the world. One hand pressed flat against the small of your back, the other cradling your face like he’s afraid you might vanish. His mouth moves against yours with growing intensity, every brush and sigh and pull deepening into something devastating.

The thunder cracks again, louder now.

“You’re trembling,” he whispers against your lips.

“No, I’m—” But you are. Whether it’s from him or the kiss or the storm, you’re not sure.

He leans in again, his forehead resting against yours.

“If I could… I would steal away time itself to keep us like this,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion that you can feel in his chest.

And in that moment, as lightning streaks across the sky outside the window, you almost believe he could.

Lilia Vanrouge

It happens so suddenly—because that’s just how Lilia is.

One second, you’re sitting together in the music room, flipping through a book while he plays idle chords on the piano. His voice is humming softly to the melody, his eyes flicking toward you now and then with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel it building—the way his gaze lingers longer, the way his fingers slow on the keys.

Then he stops playing entirely, shuts the piano lid, and smirks.

“Hmm… I think I’ve been very patient today.”

You blink. “Patient for what?”

“Oh? You haven’t noticed?” His grin sharpens like a blade. “How disappointing.”

He stands, strides across the room in two steps, and loops his arms around you before you can react. You let out a soft laugh, but he’s already hoisting you up and carrying you—not out of the room, no, but across to a small side door you’d never paid attention to before.

It opens with a creak into a cramped storage space filled with old sheet music and velvet curtains, lit by a single flickering light. Before you can ask what he’s up to, he shuts the door behind him, trapping you in the tiny room with him—and then he kisses you.

Lilia’s kisses are playful, but not light. No, no—he kisses like he’s taunting you and loving you all at once. A smirk against your lips, followed by a sudden tug on your collar. He bites just enough to make you gasp and then soothes the sting with a slow, languid kiss that has your spine arching off the wall.

“Mmh… That sound you made,” he whispers against your lips. “Let’s see if I can coax another one.”

Your hands scramble into his hair as he deepens the kiss, rolling his hips just enough to press you into the wall. He groans low and pleased when you react, his gloved hands sliding down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, his lips never leaving yours for more than a second.

Everything about him is tease and temptation. He kisses like a sin wrapped in velvet—like a lullaby you don’t want to wake from.

Eventually, he draws back—just barely—his breath brushing over your cheek as he chuckles.

“Well, that certainly chased away the boredom,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “But now I want more…”

He kisses you again—quick and hard this time—and then winks.

“Better be careful, sweetheart. I may drag you in here again tomorrow. Or the day after. Or both.”

You step out of that storage room a mess—hair disheveled, lips tingling—and Lilia? He just whistles innocently and walks away with a spring in his step.

[thevoidstaredback]

A funny thought just came to me, so here's a new writing prompt:

The Justice League doesn't think that Batman has a civilian identity. For the most part, he only ever comes out at night, adding to the nocturnal rumors, but he has been seen during the day when there are huge problems or bigger rouge attacks.

And, because the JL don't think he has a civilian identity, they naturally assume that none of the other Gotham Vigilantes do, either. Signal, the only consistent day shift, is obviously a different breed than the rest. All of the others are nocturnal.

Extra points if they think they're a group of cryptids.

One day, Bruce and Tim are needed to help set up at WE for a press conference. One that Lois Lane is covering. At the same time, the JL Is having a meeting. Normally Dick would put on the Batman suit, but Nightwing is needed at the meeting, too. They can't say that Batman is off world, because all of those trips are logged and followed by the Lanterns. So, the next logical thing to do is for Nightwing to tell the JL that Batman and Red Robin were needed as civilians, but he will make sure to pass the information on to them, as well as record the meeting.

"Batman doesn't have a civilian identity," Is the response he gets. "None of you do, right?"

Nightwing, for all his training, doesn't react outside of his smile getting slightly bigger. "You don't think we have secret identities?"

"No, we kinda just assumed you all just hid away in a cave or something when you weren't needed or on duty."

Oh, these sweet summer children. Nightwing is trying very hard not to laugh at them. "We, we do have secret identities, we don't do nothing when we aren't in costume."

"Are you sure?" That's the Flash. "'Cause I'm pretty sure we'd recognize you guys out of costume." Kudos to him for being so confident about that. "Most of you only have tiny masks over your eyes. That's not enough to cover an identity."

Nightwing takes a glance at Superman, not that anyone can see his eyes move behind the domino mask. The alien's eyes have shifted left.

"I've been to Gotham plenty of time," Green Arrow speaks up, "I know I haven't seen everyone in the city, but I'm pretty sure I'd recognize your build. It's pretty distinct."

Bold. All of the Wayne Clan have met Green Arrow in and out of costume. They've actually met most of the JL in and out of costume. Should he tell them? Nah, that's not funny. He can't wait to tell the others.

[jaybirbie]

DP x DC Prompt.

Deadserious

.

>Danny had a problem. He thought he handled it well. He couldn't tell his civillian boyfriend of his half-dead status.

He definitely couldn't let him find out by being summoned by some culty wannabes who wanted to rule the world.

Easy solution: Volunteer to be the sacrifice, turn his eyes green, and act like a Royal prick and powerful being. Get rescued by one of Gothams 50 vigilantes. And claim no memory.

Boom, secret identity underwraps.

He didn't expect everyone to treat him so fragile after.

>

Damian also had a problem. That problem, being his civilian boyfriend, was obviously possessed by a spirit of the ghastly ghost king and was utterly clueless about it.

And it was all his fault.

Danny Fenton was the next June Moore/ Enchantress. Except he was hosting one of the most powerful beings in the universe.

And that lovable idiot had no damn idea about it.

[r3ynah]

"Despite being ‘at a loss for words’, Danny scolded me for the next 45 minutes."

DCxDP prompt

Dani was completely flawless in everything she did, or so she proudly stated to everyone, which was true to some extent. She handles most of the missions handed to her by the Justice League dark with flying colors, she was sometimes called in to replace Constantine when the man was unavailable, finding lost scrolls, and performing magic she could do with ease, but she was not perfect she knows that well.

So, when she accidentally angered one of the most powerful demons to ever exist dangering not only herself but also the whole embassy of the Justice League, up to the main heroes and then down to Young Justice, Dani knew she kinda fucked up and made an error in her calculations on how much she could taunt the said demon, and now everyone was panicking which was...

Not an ideal condition for her because when everyone panics, she also starts panicking, not because the demon she angered was now spewing threats here and there (which was one of the corniest villain monologues she had ever heard).

No, she was afraid considering that since she had disturbed the peace between the living and the supernatural which was technically the dead if you based it on the horror movie franchise —BUT that was not the point, the point is that she cannot control the current situation, and that means she needed to get help from her....Brother....Eugh.

'Let's just get over this.' she sighed as she grabbed a dagger from her chest cavity, Dani's movements caught the eye of everyone present in the room, the ones that weren't occupied by the demon were watching her carefully to make sure the little ghost doesn't make anything worse than it is.

One, Dani closed her eyes.

Two, she took a deep breath.

Three—then she sliced her palm with the dagger, green ectoplasm oozing out of the wound.

Four. Everyone panicked.

Five. Finally, A portal surfaced.

It took only five seconds for Danny to head her call, exactly 20 minutes to calm the dispute happening, and 7 seconds for Phantom to regain his composure to look at his younger sister in the eye.

Dani avoided eye contact with her brother, not just her brother, while also avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room at the same time, whistling innocently as if nothing had ensued, Dani tried her luck and glanced at the levitating figure a few paces before her.

Phantom looked so done and constipated at the same time, Dani wanted to take a picture and show it to Dan afterwards.

"I'm at a loss for words."

"Despite being ‘at a loss for words’, Danny scolded me for the next 45 minutes."

[nightingale-prompts]

Beautiful Ghost-DC x DP prompt

Part of the Accidental Ghost Courting AU 》 HERE

We finally get Tim's perspective on Danny

If there is one thing everyone on campus knows it's that Danny Nightingale is hot. Not in the stereotypical supermodel or Hollywood way. He was so attractive it was scary like he dropped out of a fairy tale.

Tim first saw Danny after whispers started going around. He spotted Danny in the library walking towards the observatory on the top floor.

At first glance, you'd call him a goth and there was no shortage of people who'd love to date one. It's probably why no one shuts up about him. But Tim could tell this wasn't the corporate punk type goth that he saw Damian scrolling through on his phone. Tim was quick to tease Damian and stop what would inevitably become a phase.

No, Danny had a clear style. Classic gothic...but also not. It's hard to explain. His clothes looked handmade, straight out of the 1800s. Did he thrift or make them himself? He was an astronomy major right? Or was is engineering?

Danny looked almost ethereal. Tall, lean, and almost glowing skin. It wasn't until later that Tim would be close enough to see the way his skin sort of glittered in low light.

People parted to not obstruct Danny's path as he went toward the observatory.

Everyone knew that Danny was off limits, too cowardly to get the courage to ask him out and risk rejection. So Danny remained unreachable.

Tim paid it no mind. He acknowledged that Danny was good-looking but there wasn't much else that got his attention. Danny didn't pay attention to others.

But Tim couldn't help but notice that Danny was always alone in his own little world. There was a hint of longing in him. Tim might have overheard a few things.

Danny would usually be in the library reading eclectic materials, playing with tarot cards, and studying star charts. Other days he was in the greenhouse tending to a little corner of plants he was growing. He seemed bored. He looked like he'd rather be somewhere else.

Tim might have done some research. Just scrolling through Danny's social media. Pictures of friends and graveyards. Most of the landscape photos were taken after his arrival in Gotham. Tim gathered that Danny was alone out here and far from home. He could fit in easily around here but simply chose not to.

It wasn't until that faithful day when Danny offered him a bundle of red carnations and a cup of Death Wish coffee.

"You looked like you need this." He said smiling.

And wow...that smile. Tim didn't think he'd ever see a smile like that. It was a sort of lopsided smile, a bit clumsy but sweet. Danny had elongated canines. Were they fake or was it a medical condition?

Tim didn't know how to respond to Danny's offer but he wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee.

Over the next few weeks, Tim found himself on campus more often and hanging around Danny. Danny tended to be very generous. Always gave things to Tim, most of which he made himself. That is what made it all feel genuine. On cold days Danny always had a hot cup of coffee or tea. When it was sunny he had something sweet freshly baked. When it rained he had flowers to brighten the room. When it was foggy he wanted to go find something fun to do. Danny also worked at the flower shop nearby which was said to be haunted by the old owners.

Rumors spread more and more that Danny wasn't human, like some kind of fae that took human form. Was there a chance it was true? Yes. Does that mean that Tim was going to test that?

Yes.

So Tim just wanted to test that theory and gave Danny a bracelet that looked similar to the ones he usually had. It just so happened to be made of Iron. Tim felt bad about it (kinda) but it was just genuine curiosity.

But no Danny wasn't a fae. He was incredibly happy to get a gift though so no harm done.

Another thing Tim noticed was Danny's eyes. They weren't blue like he thought. Danny had central heterochromia. He had a ring of bright green near his iris surrounded by icy blue. Not that Tim was staring at his eyes or anything, just that no one ever mentions that part when describing Danny. It's pretty notable you know. More people should know that.

...

.....

It's normal to think that.

Anyways Tim and Danny meet up when they can. Danny likes visiting graveyards and abandoned churches. Not that he doesn't like the movies or arcades because he loves that stuff. But one time after a late class he dragged Tim with him on a scenic drive out of the city to this spot he found. It was this massive cliff just far enough from the city that you could see the stars.

Tim never really gave much thought to the stars. He's seen them thousands of times especially being carried around by Kon or on the Watchtower. But right then watching Danny fiddle with his telescope babbling on about the planets and far-off galaxies, the stars felt new and wondrous.

Was this what it felt like to be normal? Just a college kid going on a spontaneous road trip with a friend, not thinking about patrols or duties.

He liked it.

Danny had a way of making him forget about the rest of the world. Someone not linked to heroes and assassins. A friend, a weird one but one he didn't have to be Robin with. He was just Tim to Danny. Not Tim Wayne, not Tim Drake, just Tim.

Because of that, he wanted to keep Danny as far from his family as possible. They already think they were dating and he'd be damned if they scared Danny away. This didn't stop them from investigating Danny and that brat wont stop spouting his opinion.

"I don't know what he sees in you. Aside from appearance, there isn't much to like." Damian grumbled.

"He must be really vain then because Tim doesn't deserve this kid." Jason responded.

"But if he even thinks about hurting Drake-"

"Yeah, we bury him."

Tim has chosen to ignore everything they say.

The last issue is Phantom.

Tim doesn't like Phantom.

The spirit had been hanging around Gotham for a while now. He lingered around the corners of the city and if he felt like it he'd interfere. In his own words, Phantom said that he dealt with the dead, not the living. Tim did some research and it's said Phantom showed up near the dying or dead as a sort of shepherd to souls. He made the transition easier for them.

So when Phantom was seem lingering around Danny he couldn't accept it. He'd be damned if he let some spooky bastard take Danny. He can't have him.

So Tim decided to invite Danny to stay with him for a few days. But a few day became a week became two weeks. Don't judge. This was just so Tim could look out for Phantom and prevent Danny from dying. It hasn't been working so far since Phantom hasn't been seen nearby.

But Tim did run into him.

"Why are you stalking Danny Nightingale?" Tim damanded.

Phantom circled overhead his spectral tail curling. His translucent body phasing in and out of the visible light spectrum.

"Stalking? I don't know what you're talking about. I don't care about chasing the living. But let's say Nightingale is an exception. He's special. But what does he have to do with you?" Phantom eyes Tim suspiciously before diving down floated inches away from Tim face. "Hmmm, I always did think you were the cutest Robin. I was right. Too bad I've got my eyes on someone else now."

And like that he dissappeared.

Now Tim was even more anxious. Phantom was definitely after Danny most likely dead or alive. If something happened to Danny he didn't know what he'd do. Its not safe out there with Phantom hanging around.

Danny was still awake when Tim returned home. He was watching some detective drama he had refused to watch with Tim because he kept guessing the plot during the first few minutes. Which was fair.

"You were out late again. Would it kill you to get some sleep now and then?" Danny sighed stretching.

Tim wanted to say "Actually I think it would. Lets not test it" and banter like always. Maybe even relax and let Danny talk about where show was on.

But Tim couldn't. Not when everything felt so surreal. Danny was just oblivious to the dangerous spirit trying to take his soul and Tim couldn't protect him.

Tim couldn't believe he was thinking this but what if Danny wanted to be with Phantom? Then what?

Tim knew that his emotions were his greatest weakness. When he did control them he does a lot of self-destructive things and he ends up hurting people especially when he's hurt.

He hugged Danny, burying his face in his shoulder.

"Danny can you promise me...that you'll stay here." He didn't care if Danny wanted to be with Phantom just as long as he doesn't leave this world and stop being his light.

The thought of not seeing Danny every day killed him. No more nagging him to eat and drink. No more star gazing. No more TV marathons. No more being dragged to spontaneous trips to the crafts stores. No more hearing the insane conversations with his friends. No more waking up on the couch with a pair of blue-green eyes looking up at him. No more Danny.

Tim felt like his heart was stopping and his stomach dropped.

Danny hugged him back putting a soothing hand on the back of Tim's neck. It was cool to the touch.

"Of course, I'll stay." Danny laughed as if the very notion he'd leave was ridiculous.

Tim's brain seemed to twist in on itself as the cascade of emotions overflowed. That laugh seemed to play over and over in his head echoing non-stop. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Dread, uncertainty, hope, and affection all blended.

Oh no..

Tim was in love.

(This got way too long. I'm not really good a romance as you can tell but I'm trying. Anyway this is a Danny fell first but Tim fell harder situation.)

[rottingghosty]

The Ghostling of Space | DC X DP

i’m working on the next part of the realms pr au trust me i am but i got this tiktok my fyp and suddenly i’m thinking of a NEW au for dc x dp. video is at the end i came up with this at 2am (like usual) so there will be errors

prompt: Danny’s the Ancient of Space, he spends most of his time floating around space because he’s on a vacation by his council to enjoy his life as a baby ghostling and a young prince since he’s still too young to rule so he has someone as a regent (not sure who yet). So he’s just going around, passing various planets and solar system. He’s essentially swimming around because he looks more like a mer than a human.

Danny should’ve realized that someone was going to notice him at some point, he didn’t realize it’d be a few years after Clockwork had spat him out in this universe. He’d been enjoying his time witnessing the birth of stars, of nebulas being born and the death of a solar system. The universe he was in made his core thrum with life, he’s gotten to feed it heavily that it puts his main obsession on the back burner. He skims his finger tips through the stardust of a star that had been born, molding and shaping it until it joins its brethren to form a constellation for the planet he was curled around.

The planet had no life yet but he knew that would change one day, he could feel its core yawning and turning. It’d get its push once Life had the opportunity to focus on it and breathe into the core. He was balance, his essence seeping into the planet’s core as he does his part of aiding the formation of a baby solar system. His body twists as he swims languidly through the vaccum as he does flips and turns. Moving through space with his newly formed tail felt like he was in the ocean, the movement so naturally and freeing.

It’d been when he finally drifted away from it and towards the Earth that was so similar to his back in his own universe he could never return that someone picked up his presence.

It’d been when he finally shrunk from his rather large size to something relatively smaller as he curled around a moon near Uranus. Away from any prying eyes as he allows himself to drift off into sleep.

It’d take someone to had been looking at one of Uranus’ moons to realize that something was curled around one, something large and green.

Captain Marvel could only stare in awe at the figure that curled around one of the moon’s of Uranus. The figure was beautiful, pale green skin that seemed to glow before dimming and brightening again. They seemed eel like if the way they seemed to move their body to curl around the moon of Titania. Where legs would have started, instead goes into an void of darkness, with a green glow that was a sickeningly shade of bright green that dimmed and brightened.

It was beautiful as it was eerie. The glow seemed to start from the hips and continued down its sides and tail, the fins flaring every time the creature seemed to breathe. A fin from at the top of the spine and continued down the entire back until it reached a stop before the end of its tail.

Captain Marvel knew that the other members in the Justice League were in awe just as he is, something about this being screamed otherworldly. It screamed magic and it made him very being thrum with energy he’s never felt before. He wanted to say something, to speak about what would be the best course of action to take to see if this being was a friendly or a hostile. Before he could even say a word, Constantine released a curse.

“Why is there a bloody baby ghost of the Infinite Realms here?”

TLDR: danny is very much a baby ghost prince living his life watching everything in space and making new things. he’s basically the equivalent of a baby god playing toys (planets and solar systems) and has no idea that he’s giving the JL and JLD a heart attack because oh my god that’s a baby ghost. but also OH MY GOD THAT’S THE BABY GHOST OF THE HIGH KING. still unsure who takes on the role for danny, pandora? cw? frostbite? a random oc? i know people use jazz as a regent but shes like a teen and deserves to live her life without having to deal with ghostly duties.

now danny’s got these people wanting to care for him cause he’s just out in the open in space and they don’t want the high king to get upset if their son is hurt.

(clockwork finds it very funny because if anything, they have to worry about upsetting anyone who danny deems as his)