#send writing prompts

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[panevanbuckley]

soulmate au where your soulmate's thoughts appear on your skin except your soulmate has adhd and your body becomes a living canvas of nonsensical, never-ending, constantly entertaining trails of thought

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)

A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??

Bruce clicked play.

On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.

“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.

Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.

This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.

I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!

The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.

My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.

You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.

I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.

Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”

Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.

“Father.”

“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”

“…Who told you?”

Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.

Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.

“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”

Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:

- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him

- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed

- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!

- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early

- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer

- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent

Lmk what yall do with this!

[grumpy-triceratops]

🌸My Super Long Hopefully Fun Character Ask Game:

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

What are your character's opinion on scars?

How much interest does your character take in trends?

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

What does your character smell like?

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back? 

Would your character ever try to haggle?

What is something your character is proud to own?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Does your character personify objects?

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

Is your character willing to ask for things?

What is most important to your character when shopping?

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

How big is your character's appetite?

Does your character consider eating fun?

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

Is there food that has made your character sick?

What is your character's favorite food group?

Does your character like to try new foods?

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

Is your character food motivated?

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

How much does your character care about wasting food?

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

What type of environment does your character like best?

Is your character good with animals?

How would your character react to snow?

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

What element best represents your character?

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Is your character good with plants?

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

Who is your character most honest with?

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

Who would your character say knows them best?

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

How well does your character work with others?

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

What words could tear your character down?

How well does your character act under pressure?

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

What scents does your character find comforting?

Does your character have any allergies?

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Does your character have strong willpower?

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Are there scents your character dislikes?

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Does your character have a secret hobby?

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about? 

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

Does your character have any injury stories?

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

How good is your character at following through on projects?

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Does your character prefer music or silence?

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

[ghostbsuter]

"Quick!" A- a girl? Wraps their arm around Steph's own, dragging her close and shielding their own face. Their eyebrows are knitted together, they're biting their lip.

"Pretend we're out together please– there are some creepy people following me for some time."

Steph's eyes narrow, she scoots closer, practically glueing herself to the strangers side and smiling brightly.

"Gosh," she starts, then lowers her voice, "what should I call you?"

They fumble for a moment too long, and Steph takes a leap of faith.

The blond grins. "It's been so long since we met up again, isn't it, Beatrice!"

The stranger plays along, giggling behind their hand. "I'm sorry, you know I've been terribly busy," they raise an eyebrow at steph, asking for her name silently.

"Agnes," she whispers, and they repeat. "Agnes! My cats have been missing you too, you should come over more."

"I will, I will," Steph promises, peering behind her to watch out, and just like her new friend warned her, there were some weirdos in white lab coats and some in suits walking around, searching.

"Thank you." 'Beatrice' whispers as they walk around a building, leaving the place in the dust.

"No problem." Steph replies with a smile.

They separate once far enough, and 'beatrice' fiddles with something before handing it to her.

"My number," 'beatrice' explains at the bewildered look. "You're pretty cool, I thought– maybe you'd like to stay in contact?"

"Yes!" She jumps at the opportunity, taking the number with care and getting out her phone.

"My name is Danny, He/him." they speak in low tones, steph following right by their side as they continue.

"Steph, She/Her." She shoots him a quick wink before sending a text and hearing the sound of Danny's notification ping.

"I gotta go now. It was really nice to meet you, steph."

"A joy for me as well."

[jake-is-screaming-in-tune]

Luffy: If you don’t like your surname, you should take Zoro’s. It would suit you.

Ussop: Yeah.

Sanji: *sputtering* That’s not how it works.

Nami: Roronoa Sanji sounds good.

Zoro: It does sound good. You should keep it.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #127

Clockwork knew it was getting dangerous for Danny in his dimension. His parents were getting dangerously close to finding out his secret and unfortunately this timeline they were leaning towards not accepting him. He decided to step in before things got out of hand and sends Danny to another dimension. He sends Danny to live with his granddaughter, Diana, and gives her a cryptic message.

Diana is unsure about the teen that was dropped off seemingly randomly by her grandfather. It takes her quite a while to decipher as she had to return home to decipher the last part of it. When she’s done she’s slightly horrified to find the kid that’s been staying with her for months is a baby ancient. Specifically the ancient of space. She vows to protect him at all costs.

[erwinsvow]

i can see the trio dangerously driving to or from a party. they’re speeding down the empty road, the new future album blasting from the speakers of topper’s jeep. kelce is up front, and reader and rafe are in the back. reader is a bit drunk and rafe is high out of his mind and can’t control his feelings for reader so he starts getting touchy with her, maybe trying to kiss her. since you’re just starting this au out, i’m curious to know how do you think reader would react and if she did kiss him back, how would topper and kelce react?

the last line of coke was a mistake—it made him lose the last bits of his self control. it was clear that he was way too high to drive, even though it seemed like rafe always drove clear-headed or not, so you were assigned babysitting duty in the back.

top was on a rager today, even worse than his usual ones. whenever him and sarah started fighting, he got like this, currently blasting some future song at the highest volume possible, speeding through the streets of kildare. you would be a little scared, except kelce is driving while topper nurses yet another beer in the passenger seat. you're deliciously drunk, still gone from the drinks you had at the party, not a care in the world except making sure rafe doesn't keel over in the back.

you mumble along the words to the song, pretty much engraved in your memory from how often it was played. you don't know how it happens, your fingers just find rafe's hair, brushing it out of his face while he talks to top and kelce in the front, amped up and loud, acting as crazy as you've ever seen him. you giggle, continuing your motions.

topper begins some rant about his girlfriend, or rather, his ex, while rafe locks eyes with you. it's hard to keep eye contact, looking away the second rafe shuts up and focuses on you completely. you're never shy around them but this might be the closest you've gotten.

you feel rafe's hands on your exposed thighs, your tiny skirt ridden up in the seat. his touch feels good, in your drunken state you don't think there's anything wrong with it. he's just being friendly, being touchy, being rafe. he strokes the soft skin of your legs, running his hands down to your ankles, while you shift around in the back. all it would take is one look from the boys in the front to see that something's going on back here.

"rafe, listen to top he's talkin-"

"shh," rafe says, noise completely overlooked by the others, nothing audible except the thump of the bass. he takes your face into his hand, leaning in close. "shut up for a second." he kisses you, briefly, barely, lips touching together and your eyes fluttering shut, when kelce slams on the brakes. the two of you fly apart, your heart thudding for an entirely different reason now.

"what the fuck, kelce, my brakes-" top starts.

"it was a deer, you idiot. you guys okay?" he turns to look at you and rafe in the back, your face flushed and rafe's hands still on your legs.

"fine," rafe mumbles. the four of you head back to tannyhill, you crashing on rafe's bed like always while top and kelce take the guest room down the ball. the two of you are out before you can bring it up, but rafe doesn't forget about it.

in the morning, you stretch, the oversized shirt of his you'd put on for the night riding up. rafe doesn't wait another minute.

"so, about last night. in the car." he looks at you, waiting for your response.

"oh, rafe, don't apologize. it's okay. we were both pretty gone."

"m'not apologizin', i-"

"and i mean, who hasn't been there once or twice-"

"once or twice?"

"and i kissed kelce that one time, so i guess-"

"you kissed kelce?" rafe looks at you like you've committed a crime.

"what? it was new years."

"where the hell was i?"

"i don't know, probably sucking some girl's face off. i was busy making out with kelce, remember?" you laugh, getting up and looking for your clothes. rafe lays back down on the bed, deciding he's never leaving you alone with kelce ever again.

[bluerosefox]

"Daddy! Mommy's is having Ellie!"

Everyone in the Batfam knows Jason keeps secrets.

Secrets he'd take to his grave a second time if he had to.

But to think one of those secrets would be about the fact he had a secret family.

And the only reason the Batfam found out was because apparently their secret (grand)daughter/sister-in-law Jazz/Jasmine was in labor and their (great)grandson/nephews Danny (Daniel) and Dan (Dante) called him while on a Red Hood job with the rest of the Batfam to panicky tell him their baby sister Ellie was on the way early.

Red Hood books it away from the fam to his bike while asking to put Kori or Roy on the phone.

Oh boy.

[evilminji]

I just saw a "You have to pick a Consort or we'll pick one for you!" Prompt?

And I must know? CAN they bind someone to Consortship who does not recognize their authority? Like... no really, The King Of The Dead(tm) lawfully would have NO claim upon the Living, unless they consented to his Rule. Not until they... you know... Die.

And in DP's case? Not even THEN is it guaranteed? They could just Peace Out and move on. Skip the Zone completely. So like? IS that a loophole?

A King from Nation A can not legally command citizen of Nation B. They aren't his. Only King B can. Citizen B's may CHOSE to obey King A, to be polite, but the have the RIGHT to say "fuck off, buddy". But if King A was legal cornered and told "pick a Consort Or Else(tm)"? CAN HE?

Like? Can he point to the biggest, toughest, warrior in Nation B (probably standing next to his equally terrifying wife), knowing FULL DAMN WELL this is not going to happen and planning on that, and say "Him. Fetch, you bloodsuckers."

Just FULL-ON pass the buck. And let his political opponents have time to reconsider their stances as they are dying under said warrior's Rightfully Furious Blade?

What I am saying is? Constantine. Superman. Fuck it! Batman too! You want Danny, A TEENAGER, to pick a CONSORT for ETERNITY or you'll FORCE one on him? In what feels like a VERY coercive Bad Touch sorta move?

Fine.

FINE!

He's gonna pull out his phone and look up that list Tucker made of the Magical Weirdos on the Justice League! In FACT! He heard that the Greek gods helped made Wonder Woman! Her too! He's "Consorting" the whole FOUNDING MEMBERS! And the magical ones! It's gonna be a HAREM up in this castle!

Now be good eyeballs and FETCH. He has Kingly Watching Paint Dry to get too. You can't expect HIM to do this? This is YOUR big concern, not his.

(It goes badly for the Observants, I would imagine. Those are grown Adult Heros being told to divorce their loving spouses and marry A CHILD. Or Else.)

( They Choose Or Else. And Unspeakable Violence. Unhand the child, you despicable eyeball faced cretins!)

[versatiletwink]

Got writers block. Send posts or pics you want me to caption and I'll see what smut I can spin up today!

[dreamwinged]

misc. selfship asks ❤︎

thank you for 400! <3 answer these asks however you'd like, but please practice reblog karma if applicable! 💌

🧸 - how would your f/o try to comfort you if you were upset? 🦢 - what's a petty argument you'd have with your f/o? 🍡 - what nicknames do you have for each other?

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

🪺 - describe your f/os perception of you before you got together, compared to what it is now! 🪷 - if the roles were reversed and your f/o was the one selfshipping with you, what would their blog look like?

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

🍋‍🟩 - similarly, what would your contact names be for each other?

💍 - how do you and your f/o feel about marriage?

🪻 - what's your f/o's coffee or drink order?

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you? 🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

🫧 - what song(s) remind you of your f/o?

🪼 - what’s your favorite way to feel closer to your f/o?

proship/comship/neutral dni

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[half-bakedboy]

Number 2 from the 50 cliché tropes and prompts

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn't help but steal it

Buck never understood why he had lost so many sweatshirts and button-downs to past girlfriends. Nine times out of ten, they didn't even remotely fit their figure and they were only worn in the comfort of Buck's home anyways. 

Then he started staying over Tommy's house more and more. He'd always come prepared–an overnight bag filled with an extra LAFD shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of chinos, and two shirts, one with a collar and one without–just in case he needed to rush out in the morning. 

This morning, he isn’t quite as prepared as he wishes he had been. Tommy’s in the shower after sleepily kissing Buck good morning and Buck promised he’d run Hercules–Tommy’s ten-year-old retired racing greyhound–outside before Tommy dropped Buck off at work. Thunder crashes outside and rain pounds on the roof, and Buck didn’t even think to bring a jacket. 

He looks around the bedroom closet, careful not to invade the private space too much, but he doesn’t see anything that might help. He knows there’s an umbrella waiting beside the door, but he’s already shivering from the chill sneaking in through the closed windows and Buck knows he’ll need something to protect his skin. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pullover laid neatly on top of the laundry pile. It’s similar to his LAFD one, but a lighter blue that matches Tommy’s on-duty uniform. It won’t keep him dry, but it’ll keep him warm and keep the water off of his skin which is all he has time to care about. He snatches it up and shouts to Tommy that he’s taking the dog outside even though he’s not sure he’s heard. 

Before he gets too far, Buck pauses to get the pullover on. The first thing he notices is how much bigger it is on him. He’s not a small guy by any means, and he’s not much smaller than Tommy–at least he thinks–but there’s so much extra fabric that he has to bundle it up at his waist. He can also tell that the back doesn’t stretch taut against his shoulder blades and that the neckline slouches a little in the front. 

It’s strange to wear something so unfit for him, but at the same time, Buck can’t help but feel giddy. He glances at himself in the mirror and feels small, but not in the way he usually does. It doesn’t make him feel inconsequential or overlooked, but like he’s protected and well-loved. It stirs inside of his stomach until the joy begins to bubble in his chest. 

He notices that Tommy’s name is embroidered just over his heart, and he brings his fingers there to trace over the lettering. It takes everything in him not to whisper his name combined with Tommy’s last and he wonders if this was how his old girlfriends felt when they stole his LAFD shirts that had his name brazen on the back. 

Where he expected to be a bit embarrassed at the claiming nature of it all, he can’t help but feel… powerful. Yeah, there’s something powerful about wearing someone else's name, like he’s screaming to the world that Tommy is off-limits because he’s Buck’s. 

He’s Buck’s. 

He’s too busy thinking about what exactly that means for him to hear the bathroom door open and a freshly showered and shaved Tommy emerge. Another figure beside Buck’s reflection startles him but Tommy’s reassuring hands slide around his waist. It’s strange how normal it feels to have strong, long arms wrapped around him and a broad chest waiting to hold him up as he leans back against it. 

“You’re wet,” Buck says, feeling the dampness on Tommy’s unclothed chest. He’s in sweatpants like he’s ready to lounge around for the day, but the bare skin of his upper body is clearly on display where Buck’s body isn’t hiding it. He wants to pull away just so he can take another peek. 

Tommy doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Buck is analyzing them because he’s too busy doing the same. There’s something in his eyes, though, that sends an eruption of warmth to Buck’s face. Tommy tugs at the extra fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s having the same realization as Buck did, and then he slides one hand up Buck’s chest to trace his name. He whispers each letter like a secret into Buck’s ear, piercing eyes never leaving Buck’s in the mirror. 

Buck shivers, pressing back against Tommy and leaning his head back so that it plops on Tommy’s shoulder comfortably. Tommy finishes his name before dragging a finger to the neckline of the pullover and letting it hang there like a weight that keeps Buck grounded.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” Tommy points out like he doesn’t already know. Buck suddenly feels anxious, like he’s made a horrible mistake, and stands back up straight. He turns to look at Tommy as he speaks. 

“Is that okay? I didn’t bring a jacket so I figured—” 

Tommy kisses him before he can finish, and Buck can only hope it becomes a pattern. 

It’s just as soft as their first kiss and every kiss they’ve shared since then, but it grows in passion second by second. Tommy is gripping the fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s deciding whether he wants to pull it over Buck’s head or leave it on his forever. Buck holds his naked shoulders, palms sliding down the hard planes of his chest then his abs, before sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. 

When a cold nose hits his hand, Buck jumps back, out of breath and startled. Hercules is staring up at them like he’s let them have their fun and he’s done waiting to go outside. Tommy swipes at his face as he chuckles and Buck leans down to pat Herc’s head. 

“I’m sorry, Buddy. Am I stealing all of your dad’s attention?” Buck coos, and he can almost hear Tommy’s good-natured eye roll. 

“Well, if Evan here is done distracting me, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take you outside, huh?” 

“Oh, if Evan is done distracting you? Like you didn’t just walk out of the shower half-naked and damp and looking like you wanted to drop to your kn–” Buck inhales deeply when Tommy glances down then back up and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m out of here. Be right back,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to Tommy’s reddened lips. 

“Mhm,” Tommy hums, watching him start to walk away. 

“Do you want your pullover back?” Buck asks, because he figures that’s what he would’ve wanted to be asked. 

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours now.”

It sounds a lot like I’m yours now, but Buck doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he takes Hercules out, ignoring the storm rumbling above him, and strokes his thumb distractingly against Tommy’s name over his heart. He guesses he’s Tommy’s now, too.

(now on ao3)

[glittervame]

That did Nott go to plan

"Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

This post is going to be part of the Hogmarch Fandom challenge by @thatdammchickennugget check it out if you want to know more! I may have gotten a bit carried away...I didn't proofread so sorry for the spelling errors or if it doesn't make any sense, love ya &lt;3

Theodore Nott x FEM! Reader 18+ Basically just smut, Unprotected P in V (Wrap it before you tap it) Subby-Theo, Simi public sex, degradation, overstimulation I think, Handys Theo, fluff at the end

There were five times where Tutoring Theodor Nott did not go to plan.

Session number 1.

Theo's dorm room was a mess of beer bottles, discarded clothing, and the faint scent of marijuana. Y/n didn't belong here, but somehow she found herself on Theo's bed, his head buried between her legs, his tongue lapping at her wetness with a fervor that was both surprising and exhilarating. Her fingers tangled in his unkempt hair as she arched her back, letting out a moan that was quickly swallowed by the chaos of the room. It was a reckless, animalistic act, one that she never would have thought herself capable of doing. But then again, she'd never been this close to Theo before.

His hands gripped her hips, urging her closer, as his tongue danced against her clit, driving her wild. She felt a shudder run through her body, and with a cry that was more primal than anything else, she came, her inner walls clenching tightly around Theo's tongue.

He looked up at her, his green eyes blazing with a mix of lust and satisfaction. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough from exertion. "You taste so good." His hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts through her shirt, and he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She arched into the touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Y/n was still trying to catch her breath when Theo sat up, pulling her with him. He leaned in and kissed her, his lips soft and demanding at the same time. She could taste herself on him, and the thought only served to ignite a new wave of desire within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her hips against his hardness, wanting him inside her.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against her ear. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, his hands fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. She helped him, shaking with anticipation as he pushed the fabric off her shoulders and revealed her bra. His fingers brushed against her bare skin, tracing a line down her sternum and toward her nipple.

When he finally freed her breast from its confines, he took it into his mouth, sucking hard on the sensitive bud. Y/n cried out, arching her back as pleasure coursed through her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on, needing more. More of this unexpected, intoxicating connection with Theo. She knew it was wrong, that they should be doing this, but she couldn't help herself. The feeling of being wanted, of being desired, was too overwhelming to resist.

As if sensing her need, he slipped a hand down between them, parting her folds with his fingers and searching for her entrance. She was already so wet, so ready for him. And when he finally found her, he thrust his fingers inside her, filling her up in a way that both hurt and felt so, so good. She cried out, her body tensing as a wave of pleasure washed over her.

Theo groaned, his hips bucking against her. "God, you feel so good," he muttered, his voice strained with desire. He withdrew his fingers, only to position his erection at her entrance, pushing slowly but steadily inside her. She bit her lip, feeling the stretch of him filling her up. He was so much bigger than she'd expected, and it hurt a little, but it was a good hurt. A hurt that made her feel wanted, desired.

As he continued to thrust into her, she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, meeting his movements with her own. Theo's eyes were locked on hers, his expression a mixture of lust and hunger that took her breath away. His skin was flushed, his muscles tense as he powered into her, driving them both closer and closer to the edge.

She arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt herself beginning to lose control. Theo's thrusts grew faster, deeper, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. She could feel the tension building inside her, feel the familiar tightening in her stomach as her orgasm drew near.

With a groan that was more animal than human, Theo let go, his body tensing as he came inside her. His thrusts grew erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control. Y/n felt the familiar wave of pleasure wash over her, starting deep in her core and radiating outward in a series of shudders and tremors that left her spent and satiated.

Her legs still wrapped around him, she held onto him as they both rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms. When the last tremor finally subsided, Theo collapsed onto her, their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. His breath came more easily now, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to look down at her, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well," he said, his voice still hoarse from exertion, "that was unexpected." He ran a hand through his messy hair, and gave a wicked grin.

-

A few weeks have passed and Theo had found himself less interested in all the other girls at hogwarsts and more into you. He couldn't stop thinking about the way you looked when he touched you, the way you tasted on his tongue. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. He had to have you again.

One day, as he was walking to class, he caught a glimpse of you across the great hall. Your hair was pulled back into a messy bun, your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose, and a soft blush tinting your cheeks. Something about the way you moved, the way you held yourself, made his heart race. He'd sorta made a hobbie of watching you, not being able to man up and talk to you himself. You were the only thing he could think about, and it was driving him crazy.

He'd tried to talk to you a few times, but every time he got close, his nerves would get the better of him and he'd freeze up. He wanted to be able to tell you how he felt, how much he cared about you, but he just couldn't find the words. It felt like the world was pressing down on him, making it impossible to breathe, let alone string a coherent sentence together.

So instead, he resigned himself to watching you from afar, enjoying the small moments when you'd glance in his direction or smile at something one of your friends said. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him going. And when you walked past him in the hallway, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, he knew he had to do something. He had to make a move.

He'd been thinking about it for days, trying to come up with the perfect plan, and finally, he decided on something bold. He'd invited you to the Yule Ball, hoping that maybe this would be the opportunity he needed to finally tell you how he felt. As the evening wore on and the music played, he found himself growing more and more nervous. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, and his palms were sweaty as he waited for the perfect moment to approach you.

When he finally worked up the courage, he made his way over to where you were standing near the edge of the dance floor, sipping punch from a plastic cup. Your dress was stunning, a deep red that brought out the warmth in your skin, and your hair was pulled up in a elegant updo that showed off your neck. He couldn't help but think how beautiful you looked, and for a moment, all his nerves melted away.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up beside you and offered you a smile. "Hey, Theo," you said, looking up at him with those big, green eyes. He could feel his heart skip a beat. "I thought you might like to dance," he managed to say, his voice coming out a little rougher than he'd intended. You smiled back at him, and before he could second-guess himself, you took his hand and let him lead you out onto the dance floor.

As they moved together to the music, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He was finally doing it, finally telling you how he felt. And even though he knew it was wrong, that it could cause a lot of trouble for both of them, he couldn't help but feel like it was worth it. Because being with you, even for just this one dance, felt more right than anything else in the world.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face, and he could tell that you felt it too. The connection between them was palpable, electric. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be with you, truly be with you, outside of this moment. He wished he could freeze time, just so they could stay like this forever.

The music came to an end, and they stood there on the dance floor, still holding each other close. He couldn't bring himself to let go, didn't want to lose the feeling of your body pressed against his. You looked up at him, your lips parted, as if you were about to say something, but in the end, you didn't need to. He could see it in your eyes, hear it in your silence, that you felt it too.

Finally, reluctantly, he released you, stepping back and taking a deep breath. You both smiled shyly at each other before turning away, pretending to look for your friends or sip your punch. But neither of you moved, and neither of you looked away for long. The air between you was still charged, still thick with the unspoken words and the feelings that neither of you quite knew how to express.

As the night wore on, they found themselves stealing glances at each other whenever they could, trying to gauge the other's reaction, to see if what they thought they saw was real. And with each passing moment, the desire to be together, to explore this strange and wonderful connection, grew stronger. It was like a current, pulling them together despite all the forces that tried to keep them apart.

Finally, as the last notes of the final dance echoed through the great hall, you turned to him, your eyes meeting his once more. There was a question in your gaze, a hope that he couldn't ignore. And without another word, he took your hand, knowing that whatever happened next, he couldn't bring himself to care. Because being with you, even for just this one night, had already changed everything.

And then the clock fucking strikes midnight.

-

Session number 2.

Y/n has once again found her self in an empty classroom with a pussy drunk Theo between her legs eating her out like there's no tomorrow. She can't help but moan and grip his head in pleasure as he expertly works his tongue on her clit, driving her wild. His hands are all over her thighs and ass, urging her to open wider, to give him more access to her sweetness. The sound of his slurred pleas and her moans echo through the room, filling the air with desire and need.

As he continues to feast on her, she feels a surge of wetness between her legs, a sure sign that she's close. She tightens her grip on his head, urging him on, needing him to make her cum. And then, with a sharp cry, she feels the wave of pleasure wash over her, her body tensing and shuddering in ecstasy.

For a moment, they are both still, lost in the afterglow of her orgasm. Theo looks up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust, and she can see the desire burning in his eyes. He slowly pulls away from her, taking his wet mouth off of her as he stands up. Y/n watches him, panting heavily, as he unzips his pants, revealing his hard, throbbing erection.

With a steady hand, he guides himself to her entrance, positioning his cock at her entrance. She watches as he pushes forward, feeling the head of his dick slowly sink into her. It's been so long since she's felt this full, this connected, this wanted. She wraps her legs around his waist, arching her back as he thrusts deeper inside of her.

Theo's movements are slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feel of her body surrounding him. But as he grows bolder, as the heat between them intensifies, he begins to move faster, harder. His thrusts are deep and powerful, driving into her with a force that she can feel all the way up to her core.

She gasps as he hits her sweet spot, he grins and slowly teases around it. His hand slides down her lower back, over her ass, and back up to her hip. His thrusts become erratic, his breathing growing harsher as he feels the end drawing near. Y/n meets his movements, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arches her back, her body begging for release.

Theo looks down at her, his eyes burning with desire. He's never felt this way before, this need to be inside her, to feel her around him. He's lost count of the times he's come since they've been together, it's becoming a real problem.

She looks up at him, her chest heaving, her lips parted in a breathless moan. He watches as her eyes close, her head falls back against the wall, and she arches her back further. He can feel her tightening around him, the telltale sign that she's close too. With a groan, he thrusts deeper, harder, determined to send them both over the edge together.

His movements become frantic, his body tense with need as he feels his own release barreling down on him. He's never been this close before, this connected to someone. He can feel every inch of her body moving in perfect synchrony with his own, her breath hot against his skin.

With a final, powerful thrust, he cries out her name as he comes, his seed spilling deep inside her. Y/n's body tenses and convulses around him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she's engulfed by a wave of pleasure so intense it leaves her breathless.

For a moment, they are both still, their bodies pressed tightly together, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing. He pulls out slowly, his softening cock slipping from her wet folds, and collapses beside her on the floor, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

-

This time it's one of the rare sessions where Y/n actually gets to tutor Theo in Herbology and not end up bent over his desk with his cum leaking out of her. Or so she thought.

They spend the afternoon in the greenhouse, surrounded by the lush, verdant life that Theo so desperately craves. He listens intently as she explains the care and cultivation of the various plants, asking questions and making notes in his notebook. Throught the lesson thogh he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her, weather it was playing with the hem of her sleeve to fiddiling with a peace of her hair.

The air is thick with the scent of soil and flowers, and the sunlight streaming through the glass panes casts a warm, golden glow over their work. The lesson was drawing to a close, they take a break to stretch their legs and enjoy the fresh air. They wander along the path that leads to the small pond at the edge of the garden, their hands brushing against each other as they walk. Theo leans in closer, inhaling deeply of her scent, and presses his lips to hers in a kiss.

Session number 3.

Her heart racing, Y/n melts into his embrace, returning his kiss with equal fervor. Their hands roam over each other's bodies, seeking out the familiar curves and planes. He pushes her up against the rough bark of a tree, trapping her there as he continues to kiss her, his tongue dancing with hers.

She feels the hard length of his cock pressing against her through their clothes, and she moans into his mouth, wanting him inside her now. He pulls back for a moment, his breath ragged as he looks down at her, and then reaches down to undo his pants. Y/n helps him, eagerly pulling his cock free and wrapping her hand around the base.

Theo groans, closing his eyes as she strokes him, the sensation so much better than anything he could have imagined. He presses their bodies together, grinding his hips against her hand, wanting to feel the heat and wetness of her around him.

She feels his growing arousal, the tip of his cock leaking pre-cum onto her palm. She kneels down, pulling his pants and boxers down to his thighs, revealing his erection in all its glory. Theo looks down at her, his eyes dark with desire as she takes him in her mouth, her warm, wet lips enveloping him.

She sucks gently at first, exploring the texture and taste of him, feeling the pulse of his veins beneath her tongue. He lets out a shuddering breath, his hands tangling in her hair, urging her on. She deepens the suction, taking more of him into her mouth, feeling his length stretch her jaw. His hips begin to move, thrusting against her face as he loses control, his moans muffled by the sounds of their surroundings.

Her own need building, she stands up, straddling him and guiding his cock to her wet folds. He helps her, pushing upwards, burying himself inside her. They both groan at the feeling of being connected once more. Theo's hands roam over her body, cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples as they begin to move together in rhythm.

Their movements become increasingly frantic, their bodies slamming together as they seek release. Theo's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he feels the familiar tension building inside him. He can feel himself getting closer, closer to the edge, and with one final thrust, he comes, his seed spilling deep inside her.

Y/n feels the wave of pleasure wash over her, her body shuddering as she cries out his name. Their bodies become limp, their breathing slow and ragged, as they cling to each other, lost in the afterglow of their passion.

-

Session number 4.

This time though this is the one, there is no way they can get side tracked on this one. Their in a library just studying potions.

Theo and Y/n sit across from each other at a large wooden table, surrounded by rows upon rows of leather-bound books. The scent of old paper and ink fills the air, and the flickering light from the candles casts a warm, inviting glow over their faces. They are intent on their studies, pouring over the pages of the books, taking notes and discussing the intricacies of potions. Theo can't help but steal glances at Y/n as she works, admiring the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way her lips move as she reads.

Their shared interest in potions makes it easy for them to engage in conversation, and soon they are lost in a lively debate about the merits of various ingredients and brewing techniques. Theo leans in closer, listening intently to her every word, and finds himself agreeing with her more often than not.

But the bastard just can't keep his hands to himself and you found out soon enough when his hand is up your skirt and down your panties.

Theo's hand is warm and rough as it glides up your thigh, his thumb teasing the edge of your panties. You gasp, surprised by the audacity of his move. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You feel so good, Y/n."

You're caught between embarrassment and desire. You know you shouldn't be doing this, in a library no less, but you can't help but want more. You feel a stirring between your legs, a longing for him that you haven't felt in a long time. Maybe it's the forbidden nature of it all, the danger of getting caught. Or maybe it's just Theo.

He pushes your chair back, making you straddle his lap. His other hand cups your breast through your shirt, his thumb rubbing circles around your nipple, the other one playing with your cilt. You arch your back, moaning softly as pleasure spreads through you. His other hand slides down, pushing your panties aside, and finding you wet and ready.

Theo groans, pressing his hips forward, feeling you stretch and accommodate him. His other hand moves up, cupping your face, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "God, Y/n," he whispers, "you're so fucking beautiful." His hips begin to move, in and out, in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. He leans in, capturing your lips with his, his tongue pushing past your teeth and tangling with yours.

As they kiss, you can feel him deep inside you, his movements growing more urgent. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you gasp against his mouth, your release building. Theo picks up the pace, thrusting harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he feels his own climax approaching. He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of lust and a hint of something else. "I'm going to come for you," he rasps, and then he does, his hips bucking wildly as he empties himself inside you.

-

Session number 5.

Y/n had promised herself that this session would go according to plan, that they would study the full hour. That's what she was thinking untill she found herself doing the exact opposite.

Y/n, looking incredibly sexy in a lacy black bra and matching panties, straddles Theo, who is lying on his back. His cock, already hard as a rock, is trapped in his boxer briefs, straining against the fabric. Y/n's wetness is already dripping down Theo's abdomen, and he can feel how aroused she is. He groans, arching his back in anticipation.

Y/n grins wickedly, leaning down to capture Theo's lips in a kiss. Her hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders, and down his arms before gripping his wrists, pinning them above his head. Theo gasps into her mouth as she continues to kiss him, their tongues tangling together. His cock throbs in his underwear, begging for release.

Finally, she pulls away, breathing heavily, and looks down at Theo. "You're so fucking hot," she whispers, tracing a finger along his jaw. Her touch sends shivers down his spine. She reaches between them, unfastens his boxer briefs, and pulls them down his legs, releasing his hard cock into the open air. Theo's eyes roll back in his head as he feels her warm, wet lips wrap around the head of his cock. He groans, thrusting his hips upward.

"Fuck, Theo," she moans, taking more of him into her mouth. Her hand grips his base, stroking him expertly as she sucks. Theo's hips buck wildly, his moans muffled by the mattress. He's so close, he can feel it. He's never felt this desperate for release before.

Y/n pulls away, panting, and looks down at him. "You're doing so well, baby," she whispers, her voice low and sultry. She leans forward, taking his cock in her hand and stroking him slowly, carefully, until he's almost at the brink. "Just a little longer," she teases, before sucking him deep into her mouth again. Her tongue swirls around the head, driving him wild.

Theo's vision blurs, his mind goes blank. He's lost all sense of time and place. He can feel himself getting closer, but just when he thinks he can't take anymore, she pulls away again. "You're so beautiful when you're like this," she breathes, trailing a finger down his chest. "So needy and so desperate." She lowers herself onto him, guiding his cock into her wetness. Theo gasps, arching his back as she begins to ride him, slowly at first, but picking up speed as they both lose control.

Theo's hands find their way to her hips, gripping tightly as he thrusts upwards, meeting her movements. Her breasts bounce against his chest, her nipples hard and aching. He can feel the tension building inside him, the need for release growing more and more intense with each passing second.

"Oh fuck, Theo," she moans, throwing her head back. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she comes, her inner walls clenching around him in an unbearably tight grip. He can feel her orgasm pulsing through her, fueling his own need for release. Before he can cum tho, she pulls way making him whine at the loss of contact.

"You're so turned on that you're reduced to whimpering and begging and pleading for me to fuck you senseless. Tell me how much you want it, baby." She teases, slowly grinding her hips against his cock. Theo's breath comes out in ragged gasps as he arches into her touch.

"I want it," he moans, gripping her hips tightly. "I need it." He groans as she begins to ride him harder, faster. His cock throbs inside her, desperate for release.

Theo's vision blurs, his mind goes blank. He's lost all sense of time and place. He can feel himself getting closer, but just when he thinks he can't take anymore, she pulls away again. "You're so fucking sexy when you're like this," she whispers, tracing a finger along his jaw. Her touch sends shivers down his spine.

She leans forward, capturing his lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. Her hips begin to move again, faster and harder, driving him wild. He can feel his control slipping away as he thrusts up into her, desperate to feel the release coursing through him.

With a hoarse cry, Theo finally gives in to the overwhelming pleasure, his body tensing as he comes, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her up with his seed. Y/n moans, arching her back as she feels him empty himself into her.

"You look so pretty when you're like this, too dumb to even think" she muses, her hands running down his chest.

She leans back, watching him, her eyes dark with satisfaction. As he catches his breath, she slowly eases herself off of him, taking him out of her wetness with a soft pop. His cock twitches, wanting more, but she ignores it, instead straddling him again, this time with her legs on either side of his hips. She leans forward, taking one of his hands in hers and guiding it between their bodies. "Touch yourself," she whispers, her breath tickling his ear. "I want to see how much you want this."

Theo's fingers are hesitant at first, but as she watches him, a heat begins to build inside him. He can feel his cock twitch and throb as he starts to stroke himself, watching as Y/n watches him. She moans softly, her hips moving in time with his touch, her breasts swaying before him.

"That's it," she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. "You're so sexy when you touch yourself like that. I bet you'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?" Her fingers trail down his chest, teasing the tip of his nipple, sending shivers through him.

Theo nods, his eyes locked on hers, his hand moving faster now. Y/n leans in closer, their bodies pressed together, her breath hot against his skin. She can feel his desire, his need for her, and it only fuels her own desire to have him. She lets out a soft moan as she watches him stroke himself until he cums again, the sight sending a wave of pleasure through her.

She reaches down, guiding his hand away from his aching cock, and replaces it with her own. Her fingers are gentle as she strokes him, her thumb brushing over the head of his cock. Theo's hips buck up into her touch, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "You're mine," she whispers, her voice low and possessive. "And I'm yours. There's no one else for either of us."

Their bodies move together in perfect harmony, their skin slick with sweat. Y/n's fingers move faster, her touch more urgent now. She can feel the tension building inside Theo, can feel the way he's trembling with need. She leans in, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss, her tongue dancing with his.

As they kiss, she tightens her grip on him, her thumb circling the head of his cock. "I love how much you want me," she murmurs against his lips. "I love how I can make you feel like this."

With a groan, Theo comes, his body tensing as he releases himself deep inside her. She feels his hot seed spilling onto her hand, and she can't help but moan at the feel of it. She continues to stroke him even as he empties himself, her touch gentle and soothing.

As they catch their breath, Y/n leans back, gazing down at him. His eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. She trails her fingers down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before wrapping her hand around his neck. "You are so beautiful when you're like this," she whispers, her thumb brushing over his lips. "I could look at you for hours."

Theo cracks an eye open, looking up at her. "Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?" he grins, the playful challenge evident in his eyes. Y/n leans down, her lips brushing against his. "Maybe it's a little bit of both," she whispers, her breath warm against his skin. "But I think…" She trails off, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I think you love me because I make you feel things you've never felt before. I make you want things you never thought you wanted. I make you feel alive."

Her words send a shiver down his spine. He watches as she leans back, her eyes never leaving his. There's something so intense about her gaze, so possessive. It makes him feel like she's seen right through him, to the depths of his soul. He reaches up, cupping her face in his hands, wanting to feel her skin against his, wanting to lose himself in her eyes.

"Maybe," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. "maybe it's a bit of both…" He trails off, Before pulling her in for a kiss.

Session number five might have been her favorite...

[ghostbsuter]

"Hello there, little comet."

Robin wirled around with his sword pointed, standing still just before the skin of the others throat.

"Always so tense." The person teases and Robin tuts, pulling his sword back.

"Still obnoxious as always, Wraith."

The man chuckles lightly, stepping out of the shadows with a wave. "Have you learned any slang now that you live with your father? Fitting in is one of the most important skills for an assassin."

Robin scowls. "I'm not an assassin anymore."

The man is undeniable smiling beneath the mask, green eyes crinkling. It has Damian feeling all soft and squishy, he turns around with a huff, kicking the ridiculousness of those feelings away.

"You have grown."

"I have."

"I'm glad."

Robin averts his eyes as his comm comes to life, crackling in his ear. "Robin, mugging happening around the corner from your position."

He gives his acknowledgement, turning back to the man—

Only for him to be gone.

Damian sighs. "Until then, brother."

He leaps across the buildings, stepping in as the mugging happens.

—

(Usually, I would put this in the tags, but I'll put it here now for some background!)

Wraith, also formally known as Danyal al Ghul, son of Talia al Ghul and Lady Shiva.

He is younger than his sister, Cass, but older than Damian. During his league days, his loyalty stayed towards Talia, always has until he met Damian as a baby.

He became his guard, much like Cass was supposed for the Demon Head, one of the few teachers Jason had after and went on missions with.

Does he reappear later again? Who knows! He is still with the League, under Talia's command while sticking close to Ra's. A spy if you will.