#But off to the next prompt

[madeline-kahn]

@PSCENTRAL EVENT 27: SCENERY

A Filmic Tour of Hatfield House: the Marble Hall

The Favourite (2018) dir. Yorgos Lanthimos Shakespeare in Love (1998) dir. John Madden Enola Holmes (2020) dir. Henry Bradbeer Bridgerton (2020 - ) The Flash (2023) dir. Andy Muschietti Get Him to the Greek (2010) dir. Nicholas Stoller All The Money in the World (2017) dir. Ridley Scott Batman (1989) dir. Tim Burton Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019) dir. Jon Watts Orlando (1992) dir. Sally Potter Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007) dir. Shekhar Kapur Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016) dir. Burr Steers Rebecca (2020) dir. Ben Wheatley

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 110

 Duke is kind of confused. Scratch that he’s very confused. And concerned. More concerned than confused actually. Like Bruce is back from apparently being lost in time, sweet! That’s great! 

 But uh, should he be concerned about the several ghost children now following him around? Should he mention it? Bruce has to know, right? Like he’s half certain that one just picked up a book right in front of him and dropped it in his lap, so Bruce isn’t oblivious right?

[scealaiscoite]

vacation prompts: otp edition ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱

-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-

— “you have a whole suitcase full of your own clothes, and you still insist on wearing mine?”

— “hey, you slept on my shoulder for the entire flight! it’s only fair that you let me sleep on you for a little now.”

— “come on, you’ve seen me in this a million times - there’s no reason to start staring at me now.”

— “if i find out you wanted to come here just to get me in swimwear for a week, i’ll never let you forget it.”

— “i’m game for a night of room service and subtitled tv if you are.”

— “i’m not sure what the point was in us booking a king bed if you’re going to insist on laying directly on top of me every night.”

— “it’s our last night here. we’re going dancing, whether you like it or not.”

— “next year, we’re roadtripping. or staying in, or literally anything else in the world.”

-ˏˋ. actions / scenarios ˊˎ-

— discarding the plans they’d made in favour of staying in bed together all day

— being especially protective of their s/o in their new surroundings

— surprising their partner with a date night they’d planned without their knowledge

— admiring their partner whilst they sunbathe

— one of them being fluent in the language of the country they’re in, and the other surprising them by having learned it too

— treating their s/o to something they’ve had their eye on for the whole trip

— the grumpier of the two being the one to propose the funnest activities

— becoming more outwardly affectionate with one another, given no-one knows them here

[chaoswarfare]

dp x dc prompt #51

when damian was sent to investigate a‘brainwashing summer camp’ he was not pleased. The kid who shared his cabin room might make it more bearable though. Danny seems to hate this place just as much as he does.

Two days later after both of them are tied up in the store room for spying, maybe he should have come in with a better plan.

summer camp dead serious thing that nobody but my brain asked for.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt 58 Part 7

The long dining room that held the ornate old dining table that seated way too many people already held  most of the family. Bruce was missing and Damian informed them he was at work, the only other person missing was Jason but it was typical for him to skip out as he didn’t live there and didn’t have the best track record with the rest of the family. That left Damian, Tim, Cass, Duke, and Dick seated.

Damian sat next to the chair that Bruce normally sat in at the head of the table. Tim sat across from Damian followed by Dick, Duke, and Cass. Danny sat next to Damian and Jazz sat next to Danny. 

“So, how was school?” Dick asked his elbows on the table with his head on his hands and a smile. He was the only adult in their life besides Bruce that actually cared about their schooling. 

Danny had actually forgotten that all of this had happened in just one day. The thought was a little jarring if Danny was being honest with himself. He wasn’t sure what to tell Dick, on one hand he was just asking about school on the other… no he wasn’t going to think about what happened right now. Just the thought caused phantom volts to go through his body like he was reliving the accident. He felt a nudge to his foot from the right and looked up to see Damian giving him a quizzical look. He cleared his throat and looked back over to Dick who was giving him the same kind of look. 

“I-I’m, uh… school was fine, didn’t learn much since school just started,” He eventually decided to say after stumbling on his words a little. 

“Dash isn’t picking on you again this year is he?” Dick asked with a concerned look on his face. 

Danny wished it was just Dash, the pain he felt from the portal was a thousand times worse than anything the bullying blond could pull. If it was just Dash, Danny could have just laughed it off and forgotten it probably, but it wasn’t just Dash and Danny couldn’t help but take a deep breath trying to gather his thoughts and calm himself.

He startled as he felt a hand on his knee, he looked to his left to see Jazz giving him a look of sympathy as she rubs her thumb comfortingly on his knee. She then spoke, “Danny you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Okay?”

Danny gave her a small nod, a small smile on his face. 

Before a new topic could be discussed Alfred arrived with their food and began serving them. Danny loved the food the old butler cooked especially since he was able to do so in a kitchen that wasn’t contaminated. Alfred did his best to make sure everyone was served food to their liking, as long as it was a balanced meal at the end of the day the elderly butler would serve just about anything you’d request.

Danny picked up his fork to begin on his salad, however when he tried to push the fork into the lettuce his hand felt a cooling sensation with pins and needles and his fork went through his hand. He stared at his hand for a moment wondering what just happened. He then picked up his fork to try again and was able to get a mouth full, but when he went for a second bite it happened again, his fork clanging against the bowl again.

“Something wrong Danny? You're staring at your hand weird,” Danny heard Dick speaking and looked up to see Dick staring at him giving him an odd look. 

Danny couldn’t help but rub his neck nervously with his other hand, he hoped to get ahold of whatever this was so no one noticed. Though knowing his luck everyone probably did notice, over the years he and Jazz both noticed that the Wayne family was much more observant than their media persona’s showed. 

Dinner continued and Danny struggled to eat anything as anything he tried to hold fell through his hand frustratingly and Danny couldn’t help but get agitated. 

Eventually his glass he was holding slipped through his hand and tumbled onto the floor shattering into a thousand pieces. Danny let out a frustrated sigh as he stared at the mess he made. 

Before he could stand to clean up Alfred appeared by his side with a dustpan and broom and began cleaning it up, “are you still feeling unwell Master Daniel? Perhaps you should retire for the evening, I will attend to this mess.” Danny begrudgingly nodded his head and made his way out of the room.

He wasn’t alone for long as Damian and Jazz tailed him out of the room. 

“What was that? It looked like your spoon was going through your hand,” Jazz asked after they were a ways from the dinning room.

“Jazz, honestly I don’t know, it felt cold and then anything I tried holding fell through my hand.” Danny brushed his bangs away from his forehead and they dropped back into his face as he dropped his hands back down to his side.

The walk went silent after that, although it didn’t stay for long as Danny felt the cooling sensation again but this time through his whole body, he let out a yelp as he felt his body sink into the floor.

Damian and Jazz looked at him with panic but as they grabbed at his arms or his hands to pull him back up they went through him just as the spoon and apparently the ground now. 

He let out a panicked yell as the floor swallowed him whole, so now he was sinking further down further into the earth. What was going to happen to him? Would he ever find his way back up?

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long as the cooling sensation left and as gravity took hold of him again he fell. Apparently there was a cave under the manor and he was able to turn back into solid as he felt air again. There was no way he was surviving this, even with new weird powers now was when he’d get impaled by spikes right?

The cave was too dark to make out much but Danny thought he might have seen a computer with several monitors. That didn’t matter now as he finally landed, and he grunted as he landed on a person who also grunted as having a teen land on you couldn’t be the most comfortable.

He knew he was in big trouble when he realized who he landed on, “Batman??”

[radiance1]

A 'No one knows' Au and that one au where Danny leaves behind a corpse after death.

With a twist.

Jack and Maddie, not fearing death but fearing becoming a ghost after death have perfected what one would call functional immortality.

Clones.

Which is kind of why they're pretty careless about danger outside of combat, they just, quite literally, cannot be bothered to care less. If they die? Then their souls would just be thrusted into a clone body.

They didn't just cheat death, they walked all over it, spat on it, and continued walking over it a multitude of times.

Which accidently became a plus for Danny and his secret identity.

See, when Danny went ghost to save the day, he came back only to find his body gone. Safe to say, he panicked and looked everywhere for it, or tried to at least, because if that got out he wouldn't really know how to deal with it.

Only to then learn his parents hid and are quite literally experts at hiding bodies, his included.

Jack and Maddie are quite happy that they were the ones who stumbled upon Danny's body and not anyone else, since it would take a quite long amount of explanation as to why their son was found dead yet seemingly walked to school fine hit Monday!

Well, they weren't happy he died really, as any parent wouldn't be, but they're glad they prepared extra bodies for both him and Jazz in case the day ever came.

Danny awkwardly slid himself into said excuse while trying not to externally freak the fuck out. But hey, at least it's a plus that whenever his parents find his corpse they just, hid it no questions asked.

Good, it would be so weird if anyone managed to find either of their multiple corpses.

But hey! At least Jazz hasn't died yet!

[xevishi]

the difference between his thirteenth and his fourteenth birthdays 😭

teen titans #1 (2016)

robin #1 (2021)

[luxaofhesperides]

"I see you, and I love you" + hurt/comfort ; requested by @oops-i-dropped-the-galaxy!

Danny can handle being a halfa. He’s had years to get used to it, switching between dead and alive, living boy and ghost, always living in flux. He’s settled into his identity as one of the few halfas in existence, navigating the living world and the Infinite Realms with ease after years of practice.

What he can’t handle is becoming an Ancient.

Apparently, while most Ancients are born into the role, ruling over their domain, some can grow into it. It’s rare, practically unheard of, but not impossible.

Danny is growing into the Ancient of Stars, changed from the inside out by his love of space. 

He would be happy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Danny can’t sleep at night anymore. When the stars are out, he can hear them singing, each windchime voice echoing through his ears. Though he can’t see them from beneath Gotham’s cloud cover, he can feel them shining brightly far above him. 

He lays in bed with Duke, curled up in his side, trying to muffle his whimpers as his bones creak and hollow, his soul growing too large for his body to handle. He is space contained in a human body. It wants to be free, to stretch from its suffocating confines and fill every dark space with cold light. His skin feels too tight and his teeth ache. 

All Danny can do is clench his jaw, wrap his arms around his stomach as tightly as he can, and try to weather through the pain of changing.

The agony of it comes in waves. He doesn’t know how long it takes until it recedes enough for him to feel like he can breathe again, trying to suck air in as his lungs are crushed by his ribcage. Slowly, Danny pushes himself up, taking care not to wake Duke, and stumbles out of bed. His throat is dry and feels as if its been scraped raw by sandpaper, and all he wants is water.

He gets halfway down the hall when the next wave hits.

Danny collapses, gasping for breath, and can only watch through tear-filled eyes as his fingers go dark, the same black as deep space. His body shifts, bones cracking and muscles stretching like taffy, and suddenly he’s big larger than life a galaxy a black hole there is darkness everywhere it is alive it is full of stars the stars are singing the stars are singing the stars are si

“Danny? Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

That’s Duke’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere, even from miles away, even when he’s sure he doesn’t have ears anymore. It takes all his effort to pull himself back to Earth, back into their apartment, blinking up at Duke as the stars in his eyes fade away. 

Duke kneels before him, concern clear on his face, gentle hands reaching out to hold Danny steady. The feel of his warmth grounds him, keeps him more securely in his body. The pull of space is still there, tugging at him, trying to pull him out of humanity and into the form of an Ancient, but Danny can resist it so long as Duke keeps him tethered to the ground.

“It hurts,” he croaks, shivering.

“Shh, I know, baby. How can I help? What do you need?”

Danny leans forward, burying his face in Duke’s chest as tears slip out of his eyes. “It hurts,” he says again, voice shaking. “I keep changing and growing and my entire body is being torn apart and—” he gasps, cutting himself off. “I keep disappearing. I don’t want to disappear. I want to stay here but it takes me away and then I’m too big and no one can see me and I’m alone—”

“You’re not alone, Danny,” Duke says, holding him tightly as if his arms will be enough to keep Danny from breaking out of his own body, ridding himself of a mortal vessel, his only remaining tie to this world. “I see you, and I love you. Even if you have to change and go far away to be happy, I’ll find a way to follow you there, okay? I’m with you for as long as you want me.”

“I don’t want to hurt so much,” Danny whimpers, black fingers speckled with stardust clawing at Duke’s arms. 

“Just breathe through it, sweetheart, you can do it. Let it pass through you. I got you, okay? Just let the pain pass and you’ll be fine.”

He wants to snap at Duke that it’s not fine, that the pain will be forever, it’ll linger in every one of his joints, that he can’t just stop fighting it because it’ll hurt even worse then. But his jaws are aching, his teeth sharpening, and there’s a black hole in his throat that he refuses to let loose. He lets out another pained whine, shivering, and in his chest a star is formed, burning bright and angry.

“Breathe, Danny, breathe,” Duke soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Danny’s back.

It’s habit to relax into his touch. They’ve spent so many nights working through night terrors and injuries, comforting each other through gentle touches. The pain eases a bit, and Danny sighs, frost on his breath. 

“There we go, sweetheart, that’s it. You’re doing just fine.”

Another tear slips down his face, but the ache in his entire body as his growing ghost form tries to escape begins to fade. 

He’s spent so many nights in pain, waiting for the sun to rise to muffle the singing of the stars. If he can get any relief, he’ll take it, even if it means losing his human form.

Danny stops fighting. His resistance to this change falls away. There’s a moment where the pain disappears entirely, the world going still, but before he can let out a relieved sigh, the change hits him like an asteroid, sudden and instant and inevitable.

A cry is ripped from his throat, but it doesn’t sound like him. It echoes, deep and inhuman, and suddenly Danny is every dark space surrounding the stars, the arms of every galaxy, suns burning bright and dying, supernova, cold and ice and the slow drifting of planets in orbit. His body grows, expands, no longer a ghost but an Ancient, body curling into itself to stay within the walls of the too small apartment, large hands cupped around Duke to keep him safe. 

He can feel the cold of space. Orbits dance in his mind. Meteorites and asteroids drift without pattern across his chest. Danny can see everything with too many eyes, and he can cup planets in his palms, so much larger than possibility. His chest opens and expands and his body can curl around Earth and keep it safe. 

He feels settled in this new body, senses stretched in every direction and the universe is so much lovelier than he could have ever experienced it in a halfa’s body. 

Danny, Ancient of the Stars, hums and the universe shivers, singing back to him.

The pain is gone completely. He wonders why he resisted so hard; this is what he’s meant to be. He’s never felt so right before.

“Danny?”

Duke’s voice is small, but only because he is small when compared to Danny in his Ancient form. 

Duke, he tries to say but his vocal chords have changed. Instead of words, a deep hum erupts from his throat, similar to the purr of a particularly large cat. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Feeling better?”

Danny nods, pulling himself back together to feel his body more keenly, no longer stretched across the universe, cradling every star in his reach. Duke reaches a hand up and Danny reaches back, folding himself back into his body. His human eyes return and he realizes the apartment is completely covered in darkness with stars sparkling all around them. It recedes as he fits himself back into his body, the black on his fingers fading away until his hand is indistinguishable from a normal human’s. 

He takes hold of Duke’s hand and tries to stand. His legs are weak and unsteady and he falls onto Duke, who catches him with ease and sweeps him up into a princess carry. 

“There you are, honey,” Duke says, voice warm and relieved. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel a lot better.”

“Good. Do you need anything? Hot chocolate, heating pad, sleep?”

Danny thinks for a moment, then says, “Hot chocolate.”

“You got it. Let me just set you on the couch and I’ll have it out in a minute.”

He carefully sets Danny onto the couch, then tucks the blanket they keep folded over the back around him. Once he’s satisfied Danny is comfortable, Duke heads to the kitchen, flicking on the light as he does. 

Danny sinks into the couch cushions, carefully moving all his fingers and toes to make sure they’re fine. He’s a little sore, as if all his bones where put through the ringer, but it doesn’t feel any different from when he has a particularly rough training day. 

What’s more important that his physical body is the fact that he can feel his core, settled deep in his chest. It’s no longer the cold of ice, but it burns coldness, a white star embodying his soul, a changed core to reflect his transformation into an Ancient. 

A baby Ancient, technically. He still has some growing to do, but the rest should be easier and, hopefully, less painful.

He closes his eyes and begins to drift off when he hears Duke return. It takes some effort to open his eyes, and his smiles softly and sleepily when he sees Duke set down two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Love you,” he mumbles, freeing a hand from the blanket to try to pull Duke down to join him.

Duke goes to him easily, sitting next to him and pulling Danny in to cuddle against him. It’s been so long since he last felt so comfortable at night, not writhing in pain and biting through his lip to keep quiet, that he can’t help but sink into it. A purr starts up in his chest, and Duke startles.

“Sweetheart, are you purring?”

Danny flushes and tries to hide his face. The purr doesn’t stop. He’s always been able to purr after becoming a halfa, though purr is just an easier way to describe it. It’s less of his vocal chords vibrating and more of his core rumbling in contentment. Usually, it’s unnoticeable, barely able to be felt let alone heard. Apparently, becoming an Ancient and therefore a much stronger ghost means his purrs are also stronger and louder.

“You’re so cute,” Duke says, pressing a kiss against Danny’s forehead. “Drink your hot chocolate, and then we can go back to sleep.”

He makes grabby hands at his mug, and Duke laughs and picks it up for him.

“Love you,” Danny repeats, voice less muffled.

“Love you, too,” Duke says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m glad you were there to help me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out. I’ve got you, sweetheart, always.”

Believing him is the easiest thing Danny has ever done. If Duke says he’ll be there for, then he will. 

Always, always, always.

. . .

[send me ghostlights prompts!]

[innytoes]

A/B/O Prompt List

In honour of Knot In My Name, the ‘Omegaverse is fucking up AI writing because they keep stealing fanfic’ fest, I made some A/B/O prompts, because fuck AI scrapers.

First heat

I know we’ve only just started dating but my heat arrived and I need you

Scent marking

I stole your sweater because it smells like you and it makes me feel safe

“Please, I want your knot.”

Why is it that I, the only beta in this OT3/4/5+, am the only one who knows what to do?

Pack dynamics

I’m trying to get things done but you smell so good

Heat caught them by surprise

Our Alpha pack member is having their rut and we’re doing rock-paper-scissors on who gets to help them out first

“You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

Knotting toys

The pack has one coveted article of clothing they all share

Courting

“I didn’t want to bother you at work so I kind of got started without you.”

Nesting

I didn’t know Omegas could have such big dicks and now I’m all flustered

“I want [Beta] to take care of me.”

Heat bond

We met via the Knottr app for a casual heat hookup and oh shit you’re my crush

Deciding to let someone new into the pack

Dystopian A/B/O AU

I love you, but your heats are so intense and I need back-up

Cute scent-based nicknames

Fuck all that, we are strong independent Omegas who don’t need an Alpha

Silly ways to pass the time while being tied together by a knot

Heat/Rut agency

“You get a little stupid when you have your rut, it’s cute.” 

Reciprocal heat

I know we’re both Alphas but I still want to climb you like a tree.

I have a specific A/B/O prompt in mind I’m gonna send you instead

[atrueneutral]

What about our favorite cambion, Raphael, and his favorite misadventurer, Tav, having ended up in a 'friends with benefits' (allies with benefits?) thing with each other—no strings, no contracts—but then- Whoops! Romantic feelings developed! Now what? But what if it's Raphael who ends up being the one yearning and longing to pursue something more (Tav would be open to pursuing something romantic with Raphael, too, but they were also convinced that the fiend would never be interested in them that way so they didn't dwell on it or get their hopes up, just learned to be content with what they did have with him).

This arrangement between the two of them was meant to be a simple transaction: once a week, he would meet his favorite misadventurer at the Devil’s Den and they would partake in the mutually beneficial act of coitus.

It started three months ago; an unknown person (with a suspiciously-on-the-nose name) had made a late-night appointment, and it was a tipsy Tav who showed up for said late-night appointment. She threw herself into the room with the loud announcement that she would be entreating with him - not Imma Moussé. She went on to further blather that she ‘needed something specific’ and was ‘sober enough’ to make the ‘sober decision’ to ‘seek a certain devil in an official capacity’. When pressed for what it was she so fervently needed, his mouse replied with a less-than-sober sultry stare and made the slightly slurred declaration that she needed him, in bed - raw and undiluted.

It was his infernal nature that took advantage of the offer before him, and it was his infernal goodwill that provided her with what she needed; a raw and undiluted fucking with his infernal cock. He, too, profited from the session for he got to fulfill his own deep desire of laying with the woman he secretly craved (an opportunity he could only previously partake in through Haarlep's ownership of Her form).

In the hours after, when Tav suggested they perhaps make ‘this’ a ‘regular-thing’, Raphael supposed he forwent a contract as a favor for the mouse he was too damnably fond of; she’d given him the Crown, after all, but now that they were months into ‘this’, he could see he made a mistake.

A written agreement with stipulations should have been created and signed! Were it so, she’d have rules to adhere to as much as he! 

And what was meant to be simple wouldn’t be this chaotic, complicated mess!

What began as a scheduled, single night of the week was now two nights - at her roundabout request…

Where she would sheepishly and quickly leave afterwards, she was feeling emboldened to stay longer - to talk about things that did not at all pertain to what they were there to do and what they had recently done…

She touched him, caressed him too frequently these days! And he allowed it!

At least she had the wherewithal to not kiss him before they began and after they finished…

But sometimes she had that look, like she wanted to… (he wanted her to)...

(No, what he wanted was to own her and keep her to himself!)

It was an aggravation and a distraction to sit and wonder each day if there were others who she had similar arrangements with…

That vampire spawn, the Ravengard boy, the wizard, that druid who slept with everything and everyone in his path… (He should stealthily inquire about any past and present beaus…)

Yes, there should have been a contract! The stipulations being: she would meet him, they would fuck, she would leave, and that would be the end of it until the next scheduled date and time!

A knock at the door stirred Raphael from his thoughts, and he fixed himself to pose charmingly to accept his visitor.

The door to the Den opened and closed as Tav strode in without a care.

“I know, I know - I’m late! Got held up by a brawl that more and more people were becoming involved in - whether they liked it or not…” his mouse said exasperatedly. She spared him a smile and a glance before dropping her pack and beginning to undress. “I narrowly avoided getting involved myself, but one good hook laid the guy out, and his inebriated friends didn’t see who struck him, so they ended up jumping the person behind me...” Tav paused the unbuckling of her breastplate and worry flashed on her face. “Uh oh, I can’t recall if the person behind me was a gnome or a child…” The worry left the moment her fingers resumed their task. “We’ll go with gnome to make me feel better about not stopping to help...”

Oh, she amused him, and he enjoyed her company.

And the contract that didn’t exist would have stipulated: The devil known as Raphael agrees to not enjoy the person known as Tav too much, and the person known as Tav will be responsible in being not at all likable outside of the likable use of her body. 

“I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” she asked with a nervous laugh, standing there with her half-naked, likable body.

Blood flowed to his cock.

“I’m keen to hear more, yet why don’t you save any additional details you may have for after our appointment?” he asked, his hands coming up to undo his doublet.

Her expression brightened before being covered by something more seductive as she shimmied out of the rest of her clothes.

“Then let us commence with our appointment,” she purred. “Come take me, devil.”

The devil shed his doublet and strode to take his prey… his mouse…

(Maybe after, and just this once, he would ask her to stay until the morning…)

(Maybe, one day, ‘this’ would be more…)

[The Prequel]

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 27

Ellie starts to destabilize again. She’s off traveling and just happens to be in Gotham. She pick pockets a phone of one of the bats civilian personas.

They notice. Just after they get back to the manor. So now they are gonna track it down. Whoever probably assumes they left it somewhere. There first thought isn’t gonna be someone invisible turned intangible to steal a phone.

Checking the tracker they see it’s in an abandoned factory or something. Ellie is passed out green ectoplasma under her.

She ends up in the batcave. Danny tracks her there. No care in the world it’s a hidden underground base. He is getting to Ellie and nothing is stopping him.

Danny isn’t in a talking mood when he shows up. He just creates an ice dome and pushes them out of his way. Grabs Ellie opens a portal and leaves. Ice left behind. I like the belief ghost ice won’t melt unless the person who does it wills it or it’s melted by ghostly means. So it sticks around.

About 2 or so days later. The two pop up again. This time not at the gate but past the security at the front door. Ellie returns the phone and Danny informs them the ice should be gone now. He just panicked and forgot about it.

Obviously the bats are gonna investigate

[befuddled-calico-whump]

cw: aftermath of whump, implied abuse, fantasy slavery, violence, manhandling.

based on this prompt by @howls-ghost

"Trite details bore me. I'll leave it to you to complete, and complete quickly," said Prince Acacius.

"I've had enough of your dimwitted blathering. See yourself to the door," said Prince Acacius.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

Laith was sick of it. Sick of the arrogant little brat prancing around the palace like he was already king. They hated Acacius and his cold, dismissive attitude. The spoiled twat didn't know a thing about running a kingdom, and wouldn't know humility if it bit him on the nose.

The only reason the country wasn't already in ruins was due to the competence of Laith and the rest of the high council. Even the regent, as good a man he was, was taken out of commission by Acacius, forced to keep the aloof young man at his side at all hours for supposed education. Not that Laith believed Acacius absorbed any of it. He was a horrid prince, and he'd make a horrid king.

And Laith intended to do something about it.

It started as something small and reasonable; a daydream about teaching the prince a lesson, of having him whipped for insolence, or beaten in the streets, or simply pushed off the balcony.

But none of those were realistic dreams, and none of those were enough. Acacius needed a punishment that would stick, something scarring, something humiliating.

The thoughts danced across Laith's mind through all their waking hours, turning sharper and more creative with every insult from the rotten prince.

But then, they thought, why bother with a mere punishment? Why not be rid of the arrogant heir for good? Death was too quick for his poisoned heart, but there were alternatives. Slavers in the West and enemies in the North, and either faction would jump at the chance to own the pretty prince. Should Laith's goal be realized, it would do more than sate their need for justice; it would spare the kingdom from a heartless ruler.

They'd lock him in a cell with no sunlight for a year. They'd remove his acrid tongue, put out his disdainful eyes, somehow they'd hurt him in a way that mattered.

They took their time making the arrangements; letters delivered in secret, coded messages, quiet plans and plots to cover the prince's upcoming disappearance. At last, the hour was drawing near. At last, Acacius would get all that he deserved.

But of course, Laith would have their fun with him first.

They came upon the royal in the dead of night. Laith had been making note of Acacius's movements, and by now they knew to expect the young man's midnight journey to the library. Too good to be seen there in daylight hours, when servants were dusting and lesser lords were reading. Too good to even peruse the shelves alongside those he deemed as unworthy.

Laith fell upon the prince as soon as he reached the library doors, wrapping their arm tight around a torso clad in a loose silk shirt, their other hand clamped over Acacius's mouth to dampen his startled cry. The prince made fearful noises beneath their hand, but there was no time to savor the sound. Laith knew they must move swiftly or risk alerting the night watch.

They slammed the prince's head into the heavy oak door behind him. Once, twice, and then their royal prisoner's struggling lessened. Laith forced him to the ground, stuffing a wad of cloth into his mouth and tying it in place with a cord. That same cord trailed down from the prince's head to wind around his wrists, then back up again to circle his throat, forming a makeshift collar and leash to better Laith's control of him. He tugged harshly at the rope, and the dazed prince stumbled to his feet, whimpering softly from behind the gag.

There was no haughtiness in his eyes, only something meek and fearful. It was nearly enough to make Laith second-guess their plans, but their memories of the man they knew Acacius to be strengthened their resolve.

They would not fall for this docile ruse. They knew the truth.

Laith delved deeper into the castle, making for one of the secret passages in the stone that would lead them outside the keep. There was a cottage at the edge of the woods, overlooking the river that ran alongside the castle's walls. A peasant girl had sighted it after Laith offered her a penny to find a covert location. It was perfect; well away from anyone who could hear them, and the river would make an easy path for the slavers' skiff.

They hauled Acacius into the cottage, unable to resist giving the prince a sharp kick in the back that sent him tumbling to the ground. The slavers weren't set to arrive until just before sunrise. Laith had nearly an hour to get revenge for every petty insult that had ever been flung their way.

Laith dropped a knee into the prince's chest, holding his head in place while he removed the gag.

Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith refused to let the act sway them. If anything, it only fueled their fire. How dare this impudent brat act like this was unearned? Now safe behind a closed door, Laith let their fury burn, raining fists and kicks down on the prince's helpless form, relishing every muffled cry. No, they shouldn't be muffled. They wanted to hear Acacius plead for mercy.

"N-nnh please... Please don't," the shaky words left Acacius's throat with the balled-up cloth. Laith answered him with another blow, and the prince squeezed his eyes shut. When they opened again, there was a distant look to them, tears trickling from the corners.

No matter. Soon they'd be rid of him for good.

Small whimpers and gasps left Acacius's throat as Laith continued the beating, but aside from a few weak pleas, the prince didn't speak, or even look their way. Like he was only waiting for it to end. Their blows slowed, the enjoyment fading as the royal seemed to detach himself from the moment. Laith huffed. Even bound and beaten, Acacius was still ruining their day.

Ignoring the blank look on the prince's face, Laith drew their knife, cutting away Acacius's clothing. Even if that didn't get a reaction, it served the practical purpose of making things a shade easier on the slavers.

The prince lay very still, his breaths small and shaky as Laith removed the ruined clothing. And underneath the silk... Laith was unprepared for what was underneath the silk.

Old bruises covered Acacius's torso, scars layered beneath, some fresher than others. The wounds didn't stop there; more scars scattered the prince's legs, some framed in a sickly yellow-green.

"What is this?" Laith whispered, the question half-directed at themselves. Acacius didn't answer, staring up at the ceiling with eyes that looked glazed over.

Seeing another wound on their prisoner's shoulder, this one oddly shaped, Laith grabbed Acacius's upper arm and rolled him onto his stomach. The prince answered the action with a startled cry.

"N-no, please, please don't---"

"Shut up," Laith hissed, taking in the prince's back. It seemed the brat had been whipped before, and on more than one occasion by the looks of it. They couldn't say whether the dark feeling welling up in them was more akin to pity, or bitterness that they hadn't been able to witness the lashings themselves.

Starker than the whip scars was the image burned into Acacius's back. An intricate pattern, asymmetrical and varied in color, like its artist had begun months or even years ago and was still perfecting it. The newest mark was still a bright, skinless red, as if it had been smouldering mere hours ago.

Laith let out a disgusted sigh, turning their back on the sniveling prince. It seemed Acacius had been getting what he'd deserved for some time now, but it had done little to improve his attitude. Who had done this to him? Could it have been the regent? Why was pity seeping into them, like poison from a soured wound?

Acacius didn't deserve their pity. Wounded or not, he still paraded the palace ground like a bejeweled goose, hissing and biting at anyone he seemed lesser.

But why? came a small voice inside them. Why put on such an arrogant mask?

It didn't matter. Wounded or not, the prince should have better respected Laith and their peers.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Laith pushed it open an inch to peer out into the darkness. A pale woman with a shaved head stood on the other side, wearing clothing that was clearly foreign, despite its simplicity.

"Here to collect your gift?" they said, and the woman smiled.

"Aye. The North'll pay a pretty penny for your little heir."

"Wonderful," Laith said, but the word felt insincere. They couldn't let themselves doubt their plans now, the deed was nearly done. They opened the door further. "Take him then. Let's have this over with."

Acacius lay still on the ground, though his hands were trembling. He'd ceased his begging and was now crying softly and hells, Laith couldn't stand to hear it.

They bent over the prince, grabbing a fistful of his hair and roughly stuffing the gag back into his mouth to muffle that damned pathetic noise.

"Take him," they said again, more insistently. "Take him and be gone."

"S'wrong with his back?"

"I don't know." Laith shook their head. "Take him."

"Not a word of me," they said. "You'll make a fortune off him, all I ask is my name and face remain unknown."

"Alright, alright." The woman seized the rope, the leash Laith had formed, and tugged on it, forcing the prince to his feet. Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith turned their back on him.

"Your wish is my command," the woman chuckled, leading the prince towards the rocky shore, where her boat lay waiting. A sob escaped Acacius as he passed the threshold.

"Wait." Hells, what were they saying? They wanted nothing more to do with the royal. They needed him gone, but when the prince turned back to look at them, the flash of hope in his eyes wrenched in their gut.

Those damned eyes. Those haughty, arrogant, judging eyes.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

"Nevermind," Laith said quickly. "Go. Get him out of here."

The woman tugged on the leash, nearly causing the bound royal to stumble. Fresh tears wet Acacius's cheeks, but Laith looked away, pretended not to see.

They could pretend a lot of things. Surprise at the prince's sudden disappearance, sorrow and outrage at his captivity in the enemy North. For themselves, they'd pretend they were satisfied, that they'd never seen Acacius's scars.

And as they watched the skiff disappear on the dark waters of the river, they pretended they had no regrets.

[ohitslen]

I GOT IDEA ☝️🤠‼️‼️

I think that Wolfwood has strong hands not only in the sense of strength but also in resistance, so when he punches or smacks Vash on his prosthetic he doesn’t really feel too affected by punching the hard material and barely notices it like yeah it’s harder than flesh but it’s whatevs

In addition to that, he has found that with Vash he doesn’t measure his strength a lot so sometimes he hits him a tad too hard

So to expand my panicked “oh shit sorry” eldest sibling Wolfwood response agenda when he accidentally fucks up, sometimes he will smack Vash’s left arm playfully and Vash will hiss in pain or act a little too real (not so exaggerated) when he gets the hit, and indulges in the way WW is all oh no oh fuck sorry uh did it really hurt that bad while Vash is doubling over in pain when he’s actually pressing down a laugh

It always takes Wolfwood a little too long to realize it’s not his actual arm and when he does come to realize it, he gets embarrassed but the violent kind of embarrassed and he hits him so hard Vash always considers not doing it again

He does it again at least once a week, and Wolfwood somehow falls for it every single time and the beatings get worse than the one before that

[flowersdiceandlove]

The burial mounds, a place of mystery, the place of the dead, cannot be comprehended by humans. It is a place warped by time and resentful energy and the intentions of those who inhabit it and who knows what else. It is sentient and has a strong will of its own. It’s said that no one can leave the Burial Mounds, and that is true as much as it’s not. The burial mounds keeps what is theirs; protects what is theirs. No one can escape from the Burial Mounds bc more often than not, once you enter, the Burial Mounds see you as theirs. It does not take well to people hurting and taking what is theirs. (And, maybe this is why a certain demonic cultivator was able to survive and leave that place. Maybe he understood this will and resentment bc he too would do anything to protect those he loves. For him as well, once he considers someone family, they are family. And nothing will change that. No matter what happens, his family is his family, and those under his protection are fully under his protection. They can see a kindred spirit in each other, and so the Burial Mounds let him go, knowing that he will always carry part of the Burial Mounds with him. The souls in his sleeves and the resentful energy he welcomes into his body. The boon that the Burial Mounds grants him.)

It is for these reasons that WWX knows to bring the Wen remnants there. Not only does he know he can defend them if needed in that place teeming with resentment, he knows the Burial Mounds themselves will protect them. It protects its own, and the Burial Mounds knows these people that WWX brought are his, so they are its. It’s as simple as that. And, the Burial Mounds likes it. It likes having these people here, milling about and carving a life on it. It likes how they turns its soil from barren to fruitful. It likes how they are happy and content. It likes being their home and haven. It will do anything to protect them.

When the first siege comes, the Burial Mounds try to protect what is theirs. These people who have made a home on it. But, they are all grieving deeply, and it’s beautiful child, the first to even understand them and want to make peace with them instead of destroying them, is breaking apart. He is breaking apart with the weight of someone who could not protect that which is most precious to him. And he has been breaking with this weight for months now, every day chipping another piece of himself away, every day pulling further and further into himself, every day driving him just a little more insane. The Burial Mounds have no problem with madness. They will still embrace him fully and without question, but it pains them to see him like this. They are all breaking under the pressure of what the world outside its borders do. This is no longer their haven, but now their place of imminent doom. It is only a matter of time until the cultivators attack. The Burial Mounds fights back as it always does to protect those that are its. But, some of these living cultivators attacking are family of WWX and it cannot attack family. And, it knows that even should he wipe all these harmful intruders out, that will not stop more from coming, and more after that. The Burial Mounds would fight every wave they send, but that is not the issue. The issue is that its people are grieving and breaking. The issue is that it cannot do anything to fix that and every attack will break their spirits just that much more.

So instead, the Burial Mounds decide to change it. As the cultivators pour in, the Burial Mounds pulls its energy from defending and into charging its intention.  Some of its people get cut down, but that is fine, it will still work, they do not have to be alive. Just as WWX is about to destroy the Stygian Tiger Amulet (oh, and look at their brave boy, but don’t do that, my child, it will tear you apart) a large pulse of resentful energy ripples out over the battlefield, shaking the ground and seeping into all that is theirs. The air and ground starts to ripple, unstable and warping like swirls of marble, until none can stay standing in this odd happening, toppling over, nauseous from the swirling. Those that are theirs are sucked into the soil, deep into its power, and it embraces them into its depths.

Then—

They open their eyes.

WWX is seven, on the streets of Yiling, and turns his head to the Burial Mounds so close by, calling to him. Come home, my child, it whispers. Come to me; I will protect you.

Wen Ning is eight and Wen Qing 14. They also look in the direction of Yiling—of the Burial Mounds. They too hear the call. There are gasps rippling around their home, and people bursting through doors, embracing each other, crying in joy. Eyes flick around at everyone. They know. All those that were on the Burial Mounds, as well as Wen Qing and Wen Ning remember. They know what Wen Ruohan is planning. They also know what will happen to their real family.

They go to Yiling. Just a few at first. They lost many people in their branch before they were saved by WWX, and those people are more than hesitant to go to that cursed place. Those that remember can’t simply leave them to their fates again. So, some go, while some stay. They will convince the rest later. When they arrive at the base of the Burial Mounds, there is already a large collapse in the wall surrounding it looking to be made recently. The paths open up for them as they start their ascent. The path is just as they remember, the corpses and spirits howling, but leaving them be. They know they are already part of them. Granny Wen and Wen Qing are at the front of the group, leading the way. Wen Qing wishes her brother was there, but that was not something their parents would budge on. They barely let her go, and only because Granny was insisting as well and promised to look after her.

They reach the clearing where their homes were, and there they are. Their little shacks that barely stay standing. The patches of land they’d tilled and toiled over. And there, perched on a tree stump by the side of the road is a boy, even smaller than A-Ning, covered in dirt and grime that can’t all be from the Burial Mounds, spinning a black, bamboo dizi in his tiny hands. He watches them with shining eyes and a large smile they’d know anywhere breaks out on his face, then—

He laughs. The boy laughs loud and clear and bright as he topples off the stump in his joy. Many of them join in the laughter as well. Amazed and in disbelief. Wen Qing, granny, and a few others rush over to the little Wei Wuxian and pull him into a crushing embrace. The laughter soon turns to wracking sobs as they all cling to each other and let it all sink in. 

They are alive. They are together.

And, they will make sure it stays that way.

The Burial Mounds hum around them, welcoming them home.

[shywhumpauthor]

A Whumpee who is so touch starved that they will do literally anything for just a ghost of contact but who also hates being touched for whatever trauma reason, so they’re stuck in this hellish limbo between their desire to just be held by someone and the awful prickling feeling they get whenever someone so much as brushes against them.

Bonus points if their master/caretaker/teammates/whomever within the context has no problem being affectionate but they just won’t do anything unless they are literally asked or something of that sort.

This opens up a lot of potential for some really soft emotional scenes

(prompt 12)

[averlym]

,,, sun-dappled sheets...