#dis writes

[disillusioneddanny]

Emergency Contact dick/Danny

Prompt: dick is in an incident and Bruce learns that not only is he no longer his sons emergency contact, his son is also married.

Bruce frowned as he listened to the police scanner, his forearms rested on his knees. There was a hostage situation in Bludhaven. He had seen it on the news in the middle of his work day at Wayne Enterprises. Not long after, Tim had come running in, pale faced and nervous. It seemed that Dick had been a part of the situation and was trying to get the suspects out of the bank.

The two were now hyperfocused on the scanners as the others sent check in messages every so often asking if they had heard anything from Dick yet. So far, they were planning on sending in a group of officers to invade the bank and take down the suspects. The main problem was that they weren’t sure how many suspects nor were they sure what all they had on them or the amount of victims inside of the bank.

Tim was gnawing at the bit to go and intervene. All of Bruce’s children were. The patriarch had to remind them, though, that Bludhaven was Dick’s territory and unless he asked for backup or some kind of assistance then they let him be. And so far, none of them had heard a peep from Dick. So they would each continue to monitor the situation and hope that their family member would be alright.

“Officers Grayson, Sanchez, Roarke, Blankers, and Miyap are in position,” a voice crackled out and Bruce squeezed his hands together tight, heart pounding. Why was Dick doing this? They didn’t know enough about the suspects to know that they would be able to apprehend them without casualties.

“Go,” a different voice ordered through the scanner and Bruce watched the news screen as Dick and other officers forced their way into the bank, guns raised and prepared to shoot if necessary. Bruce watched as flashes of light from gunfire flashed through the building and screams sounded on the screen, Tim turned up the police scanner.

“Shots fired, I repeat shots fired.”

“Suspects apprehended.”

“Shit! Grayson!” A voice shouted and Bruce’s blood ran cold. “We’ve got an officer down! I repeat, an officer down!”

“Get a car arranged,” Bruce said faintly to Tim. “We need to get to Bludhaven as soon as possible,” he said, eyes never leaving the screen as five suspects were brought out one by one. A gurney was quickly wheeled into the bank and moments later the paramedics wheeled out Dick out of the building. To the side Tim was calling Alfred to come and pick them up and make the drive to Bludhaven.

Soon he’d be getting the call from either the hospital or the chief of police to give an update on Dick’s condition or to tell them what happened. He was Dick’s emergency contact, after all. If anyone was going to be alerted it would be him.

The call never came.

Bruce, Tim and Alfred made their way to Bludhaven General Hospital and Bruce was already contemplating the words he would be having with whomever was in charge about how he had not been alerted of Dick’s current status. He couldn’t believe that the Bludhaven PD and hospital were so ill equipped that they couldn’t even call an emergency contact and make them aware of what had happened to his son, his precious boy, his eldest sweetheart whose smile was brighter than the sun.

Yes, he would be having words alright.

The three rushed into the hospital and Bruce stormed towards the front desk and rested his hands on the plastic desk carefully. “I’m here for Richard Grayson, he was a part of the altercation at the Bludhaven Bank,” he said, trying his best to keep his tone even. “I should be his emergency contact, Bruce Wayne,” he said, adding his name just for good measure. Just in case they didn’t know. However doubtful that may be.

They lady typed along the keyboard for a moment before she looked up. “I’m sorry Mister Wayne, but Detective Grayson does not have you listed as his emergency contact nor as someone who can obtain his information. I’m unfortunately unable to share anything with you.”

Now Bruce was going to see red. This had to be a mistake. He was Dick’s father. He had been his son’s emergency contact for as long as he had Dick in his custody. How dare this woman say that he wasn’t, that he wasn’t privy to Dick’s information! His sweet littile boy!

Bruce let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to maintain an aura of calmness. “I need you to call his doctor then, and obtain permission. I am Richard Grayson’s father, I should be listed on his emergency contacts list.”

“I’m sorry sir, but the only name we have associated with Officer Grayson is a Daniel Nightingale and he is already in the room with Mr. Grayson. I can call and let them know that you’re here but I can’t do much more than that, I’m afraid,” the woman said, looking beyond flustered as she grabbed the phone.

“Please do,” Alfred said, shooting the eldest vigilante a pointed look as he ushered Bruce and a shocked Tim away from the information desk.

“Who the hell is Daniel Nightingale?” Tim said, looking beyond stumped. “And why would he be Dick’s contact?”

“I have no idea,” Bruce said, his jaw set as he thought of ways to get around the information desk and find his son without anyone suspecting a thing. He could do it, he really could! He was the Batman!

“All I can find on him is that he’s a reporter for the Bludhaven Gazette and has written several high fantasy novels about ghosts,” Tim said with a frown. Bruce looked down at Tim’s phone to find a scrawny looking man with dark black hair, white streaks scattered throughout, crystal blue eyes and a wide smile. If he weren’t obviously a grown adult, Bruce would think that he was a Bruce Wayne Adoption Bait candidate. Otherwise, though, he was unfamiliar, Bruce had never seen the man before in his life.

“How does he know Master Dick?” Alfred asked with a frown as he glanced over at Tim’s phone.

“I’m not sure,” Tim said with a huff. The three looked up, though, as footsteps echoed in the near empty waiting room and a gangly man stepped through the doorway and gave the three men a sheepish look.

Bruce looked between the picture and the man standing before them and scowled. It was the same person.

“Hi, uh, Dick is still unconcious,” he said, walking towards the three vigilantes. “I didn’t realize he took you off his contact list for emergencies,” Nightingale said, looking clearly distraught.

“Who are you?” Bruce demanded, eyes narrowed.

Nightingale sighed. “He’s fine, by the way, in case you were wondering. Two shots, one in the hip thankfully didn’t hit anything. One in the thigh right above the major artery. Other than that, his kevlar vest took the brunt of it, he’s just very bruised. They knocked him out, though to give him stitches and get some rest but he’s going to be fine.”

“Who are you?” Bruce repeated, despite feeling calmer knowing that his precious boy was going to be fine. He was going to be benched for a few weeks but they would get someone else to patrol Bludhaven in his stead. Bruce would probably be able to get Red Robin or Orphan to take over the area while Dick was out of commission.

Nightingale blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “This wasn’t how Dick wanted to introduce me,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed. “He’s going to kill me. But I’m Danny Nightingale, his husband.”

“Dick isn’t in a relationship,” Tim blurted out as Bruce stiffened beside him. “He would have told us.”

Danny gave him a weak smile. “No, no he wouldn’t,” he said awkwardly. “Not if he hadn’t been ready, at least.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Bruce said, his heart aching. How could Dick keep this from him? An entire husband? Bruce’s entire world was falling down around him as they spoke. He couldn’t believe this, how the hell was his son married? How had he not been invited to the wedding? How had Alfred not been invited to the wedding?

Danny blushed even brighter at that as he pulled out his phone and handed it over to Bruce. Bruce clicked the button to unlock it to find Danny and Dick, drunk off their heads with a marriage certificate held up between them and a wedding chapel behind them. “It happened like four months ago? We had been dating for like five months beforehand and well it just happened. We decided to go ahead with it and stick to it. We’ve been married ever since. Dick didn’t want to tell you because he wants a redo, especially since I stole his thunder and apparently proposed to him with a ring pop.”

“Take me to him,” Bruce deadpanned.

“Woah, Big Bat,” Danny said, holding his hands up placatingly. “I can’t do that. He’s only allowed one visitor at a time and it’s me. You’ll just have to wait until he wakes up and they move him out of ICU.”

“I thought you said he was fine,” Tim said with a frown as he inspected the picture before searching on his phone to find the marriage license. Danny pulled his phone back and tucked it into his pocket.

“He is, it’s just as a precaution until he wakes up,” Danny said. “And when he does, I’ll come and let you all know how he’s doing and what his room number is. In the meantime, I have his phone on me and you’re welcome to call me any time you have questions.”

And with that, Danny fled from the room as quickly as possible.

“He called me Big Bat,” Bruce murmured. “Dick wouldn’t have told a man he barely knew all of our secrets, not without telling us first!”

“The marriage license is legit,” Tim said with a sigh. “Can’t believe he got married and never told us.”

“Hn,” Bruce muttered out grumpily.

…

Danny was going to die, he could feel it in his core. Either Dick was going to murder him for spilling the beans to his dad, or Bruce was going to murder him for telling him he couldn’t back to see Dick.

It seemed that his husband wasn’t exaggerating when he said that Bruce was insanely overprotective of Dick and would always see him as his baby boy. It was almost endearing if it hadn’t been so utterly terrifying to be glared down by Batman himself.

He shook his head roughly as he marched down the hall and back to his husband’s hospital room. Enough with that Nightingale, he said to himself. He was the star reporter for the Bludhaven Gazette, hell he had turned down that stupid news place in Metropolis when they offered a position. He was good, he was great and he was not going to let Bruce Waynce scare him!

He had dealt with much scarier than his father in law out in the field and he needed to remind himself of that fact.

He made it to Dick’s room and took a seat at his bedside, holding his husband’s hand in his. “I can’t believe you did this to me, Dick, you scared the half life right out of me,” he murmured, running his thumb along the back of Dick’s hand softly. “And now we’re going to have to deal with your father and it’s all your fault because you still haven’t quit the police force, you big dummy.”

He let out a huff and looked away from his husband. Dick had been talking about quitting since Danny had met him nearly a year before. He had realized that the police life just wasn’t for him and that he’d never be able to get rid of the corruption but he had been struggling to quit, to figure out what he would want to do instead. And Danny had been there to support him all the while but it was starting to worry the halfa. He knew that Dick was Nightwing, had figured out the identities of all the bats almost immediately upon moving to Gotham. It hadn’t been too hard for him to figure out. But then again, he was a journalist, he always knew how to sniff out the truth and the Wayne’s big secret was no different.

Of course, there was also the fact that he had also been a hero once upon a time and he didn’t care what anyone else said, you could always spot another hero a mile away if you knew what you were looking for.

He sighed and felt Dick’s phone vibrate. Already he was getting floods of texts from the Wayne Family.

This was going to be a long day.

…

“I want a divorce,” Danny seethed as soon as Dick opened his eyes. The cop gave his husband a tired smile and squeezed his hand lightly.

“Hello to you too, Dove,” he murmured.

“Your family will not leave me alone. Why didn’t you tell me you took Bruce off of your emergency contact information? He’s driving me up the wall,” Danny whisper shouted, trying to be mindful of his husband’s current state.

“I didn’t think about it,” Dick muttered. “How mad was he when you told him we’re married.”

Danny snorted and ran his fingers through Dick’s hair. “He bluescreened,” he admitted softly. “Definitely wasn’t happy about it, Alfred looked hurt and Tim looked like he thought I brainwashed you.”

Dick chuckled softly and shook his head. “Well they should move me to a general room soon so they can all calm down. Until then, I need you to take care of your poor, injured husband.”

The halfa laughed and pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Never scare me like this again, Dick Grayson, or else you’re joining me on the ghostly side, understand?”

“Understood,” Dick mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed once more. Danny just sighed and fell back into his seat. Thank god he was Dick’s emergency contact, or else he’d have to have used his ghost powers to sneak in here to get his husband. Unlike Bruce Wayne who seemed to be following the rules and waiting in the waiting room, Danny was not a patient person and he would have absolutely refused to wait and not see his poor husband.

Anyone is welcome to add to this btw. I just needed to get it out of my head XD

[wickedwitchofthesouth]

In a perfect world they would have written a plotline where Dean becomes addicted to angel grace because it was the only thing that keeps the effects of the mark of cain at bay.

In a perfect world it would have been the perfect parallel to Sam's demon blood junkie arc

In a perfect world, Cas would have been Deans Ruby

IN A PERFECT WORLD THATS HOW THEY WOULDVE GOTTEN TOGTHER

[thatpunnyperson]

According to NBC here in the US, the missing titanic sub has been found. As debris. Off the bow of the Titanic wreckage.

And it looks like the sub suffered what we all suspected, and what was undoubtedly the more merciful of the two options: a catastrophic implosion from the pressure.

Also, more info has come to light about the fishing trawler with the hundreds of migrants that sank cataclysmically off the coast of Greece, indicating that the greek coast guard knew about the vessel AND how much trouble the vessel was in, and were towing it at a speed that made it capsize, at which point they unhooked the tow line and watched the trawler sink without helping the passengers to safety. Despite a bunch of other ships trying to help as well throughout the whole ordeal.

So a lot of people are dead, all because of regulations (and the lack thereof) regarding sea-faring vessels and rescue protocols. People shouldnt be allowed to make a business charging a ton of money for a ride on an uncertified, unsafe, un-seaworthy ship going deep into the ocean with no distress beacon or tether to the mothership. People also shouldnt be allowed to enact laws that criminalize the ferrying of refugees, which then force the refugees to hitch rides on fishing trawlers, and which also prevent people from helping those fishing trawlers full of refugees due to fear of legal consequences.

Hopefully BOTH of these events spark changes on an international scale in terms of what is legally allowed to be sailed, who is legally allowed to be the passengers, and what the rescue protocols are in the event of disaster for any seafaring vessel, illegal or not. It shouldnt be just the global 1% who get 24/7 search parties and remote-operated submersibles helping rescue them.

[gay-impressionist]

france is burning.

667 people were arrested last night. they are curfews in place. public transport is partially closed at night.

nahel, a 17-year-old, was shot tuesday by the police during a traffic stop. he wasn't violent or armed, he wasn't a threat. but he broke the law and tried to drive away, so the cops killed him.

and now france is rioting.

there is a video so the government isn't trying to deny the facts for once. but the minister of the interior (in charge of the police) still insist that the police shot less people since the 2017 law on public safety.

but an analysis of police statistics by Le Monde, the most read newspaper in france, says otherwise. when the police shot on average 250 people each year in the five years prior to 2017, that number became 297 after 2017. for shots fired specifically on moving vehicles, the average used to be 119 and it's now 150. before 2017, there was an average of 0.06 deaths per shot. now it's 0.32.

more than ever, the police shoots to kill.

so france is burning.

[theprinceofdarknesssquad]

Nico: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Percy: Several traffic violations. Jason: Three counts of resisting arrest. Leo: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Frank: Also, that’s not our car.

[1-marigold-1]

When your best friend is a bilblically accurate angel

They are all in the same situation guys (Yes I headcannon Pix as a watcher, since the Empires x Hermitcraft crossover hghgh)

They are three stages of one expierience

Mumbo: confused, shocked, kinda uncomfortable when around Grian in his full form, starts getting used to it

Impulse: Used to it

Sloy: Literally. Doesn't care. "You're a watcher? Cool."

Also this meme

That's the vibes I get from them

Ngl "My best friend is a biblically accurate angel" sounds like a good movie/book title

[dclovesdanny]

Something I will never get enough of is Danny killing the Joker. However, something I want to see more of, is Danny killing the Joker for Ellie.

Like, Jason and Danny are neighbors and they’ve been friends for a little while. Jason knows Danny has the 20 something year old mechanic with a six-year-old daughter who is an absolute gremlin. He really likes them both, and he might have a little crush on his neighbor.

Then when they are out at the park or something, the Joker attacks. The joker decides to grab a hostage and who does he grab, but this six year old girl who only seems to have one person who knows her, a scrawny 20 something person. She has dark hair and blue eyes and only person who seems to care about her is her older brother/possible father? Perfect bait for Batman.

He wasn’t counting on Danny being able to fight god for his family. He didn’t realize that Danny will do anything to protect his family, that, in his literal core, he is sworn to protect his people, no matter the cost. the joker did not realize that Danny loves Ellie enough to not only die (again) for her, but to kill for her.

The Joker doesn’t die to Batman, or in some big battle. The Joker dies to a man no one knew because the Joker kidnapped his daughter. The joker dies, because he forgot that not everyone has the same hangups about killing that Batman does. The Joker dies because he pushed a parent too far.

Jason is there during all of this. I think he’s either there as red hood, watching through the cameras, or there is Jason. All three of these have many different pros for various forms of angst.

If Jason is there as red hood, he’s probably with some of the batfamily, and they are holding him back from killing the Joker. They’re trying to figure out how to make it so that the joker won’t kill this little girl, and Jason is going feral because that is his kid. That is the little gremlin who lives next-door, who knocks on his door and treats him like a jungle gym. That’s his kid. When he sees Danny jump at the Joker, he’s going to have a straight up panic attack and he’s gonna get the guns ready, but he doesn’t need to.

If he’s there as Jason, I think the joker would also take him hostage. Jason Wayne, the brat who would get him a lot of money. Especially if the Joker knows that this was the second Robin, because this just means he can get two killed in one swoop. And Jason is trying to protect Ellie with everything in him, cursing himself for not bringing a gun with him and praying that this time Bruce isn’t too late. And he can see the pain in Danny’s eyes and he is so scared to lose this family he has. He praised to a God he doesn’t believe in this time, history won’t repeat itself.

I feel like it would be most painful, if he’s watching through cameras. He’s probably injured or in the middle of doing something for his civilian life . Maybe he’s even out of town, but turned the camera on to look out for the joker, and had a heart attack when he saw the little girl next-door being held by the Joker. This man is trying so hard to get there, breaking every traffic law, praying that he won’t be too late that this won’t be the same as his death. His trauma is excruciating, because this feels like when he was waiting for Bruce and Bruce not getting there until it was too late.

No matter which of these scenarios, he needs to see Danny snap and kill the joker. Maybe, in the camera scenario, it’s just this he arrives that he sees it. Either way, he needs to see the moment, the Joker dies at the head of a single father, and the parallel of Bruce and him and Danny and Ellie need to be very apparent. Because this time the dad wasn’t afraid to kill.

This is the moment I feel, Jason would fully acknowledge that he would do anything for these people. That these two neighbors of his have become his family. The moment he sees the two of them holding each other, and the jokers body at their feet, I guarantee you this man is fighting tooth and nail not to go over his red hood exposed them. if he’s Jason, he can run into hug them no problem, but if he’s red hood, he’s not going to be able to do that.

This man will fight with Batman if he even that should get in trouble for killing the Joker. He will threaten to never ever speak to Bruce ever again, will be ready to bribe the police into letting Danny go, we will race every camera footage out there of the event, will do anything for this family.

Later that day, he won’t have nightmares of the Joker for the first time in a while. He will be able to look at his family and rest easy, knowing that there’s no way that Joker can take them from him.

[echo-stimmingrose]

I have funny but first a quick history lesson

In Ancient Athens they had things called ostracons. Basically every year everyone would carve a name of someone they didn't like into a small stone tablet and then submit it. Then they would look at all of the ostracons and if there were too many of one person then they told that person to get tf out. They had ten days to flee Athens and couldn't come back for ten years.

So now I would like you to imagine Dionysus doing a pseudo version of this at Camp Half-blood every month because we all know he LIVES for the drama. (He's stuck there for a hundred years he might as well have some fun)

He would hand out stone tablets (it was very important to him that the names were carved don't ask why) and every person at camp would write a name.

Whoever had their name written down the most would be sent to live in a cabin in the woods for two weeks. If they survived they would be allowed to return to camp.

Mr. D always makes sure there's a crowd around to witness their walk of shame and he takes a picture of said person every month. He keeps them hung up on a wall in the big house.

[willowser]

thinking about you laying in bed with bakugou and lightly tracing the messy edges of the scar in the middle of his chest, hardly able to comprehend how deep that wound runs. it had already been there for years by the time you'd met him, but sometimes you see it and are unable to swallow the fact that—at one time—you were alive and he wasn't.

very quietly, you say, "it's crazy to think how easily i could have missed you,"

because it's not every day you meet and fall in love with a man that's died and come back. if fate is destined and soulmates are real, you imagine the two separate paths of your lives traveling parallel, in sync—and his breaking away for one horrible moment, torn from you before you even knew it.

bakugou is half-asleep, you know, but he shifts until his chin is lightly nudging your forehead, and speaks into your hair. "nah," he murmurs, voice thick and slow and slurred. "would'a found you eventually."

and somehow, you can't find it in your heart to doubt him.

[disillusioneddanny]

Danny felt like his stomach was tied in knots as he finished getting ready for the day. Dick had told him that they were going to Wayne Manor for Danny’s birthday dinner and Danny was feeling sick with nerves. Growing up, his parents had never really acknowledged Danny’s birthday, had never even really remembered it if he was being completely honest. Danny suspected that it had to do with the fact that they had never really even wanted Danny in the first place, but he had never been brave enough to actually voice those thoughts to anyone.

Living with his adoptive parents, Danny was quickly realizing that his relationship with his parents was more complicated than he had ever realized. With Dick, things were easy. The two had breakfast each morning, sugary cereals more often than not, they would have a pun off as they got ready for their day and then Dick would drop Danny off at Bludhaven High and he’d go off to work at the local community center. And without fail, each day he would pick Danny up from school, they would talk about their day and then have dinner together before Dick went off on patrols as Nightwing and Danny found himself manning the computer and keeping an ear open for any crime going on that needed Nightwing’s attention.

Their weekends were usually filled with different outings and adventures. Whether that be Dick dragging Danny to the movies, or going to different festivals that were being held in the city, or going off Gotham to hang out with Dick’s and well, now Danny’s, family to hang out. Or he would find himself going with Barbara to see a play or to a coffee shop to hang out and people-watch. It was weird and not something Danny was super used to. He had never had a parent that cared this much about him. Or even asked him what he wanted to do.

That was the thing with the Fentons, Danny realized. They did things to spend time with Danny, to act like they were putting in the effort to be a good parent to him. But it had always been on their terms, it was always things that they wanted to do. They never really cared all that much for Danny’s input or even really listened when he would try to say he didn’t want to do something.

Dick and Barbara respected him and he treated Danny like the now sixteen-year-old he was rather than just a pest. It never failed to make Danny’s heart feel warm with affection for the older man who had taken him in. He had been living with the Graysons for six months now and there were so many things he was learning about himself and realizing about the Fenton’s that he just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around a lot of it.

He had known that the Fenton’s weren’t great parents, it was a niggling thought that stayed with Danny the majority of his life. A thought that got a bit louder when he was around Tucker’s parents or Valerie’s dad, parents who truly loved their kids and were attentive and knew what was going on in their lives–well for the most part. But they were parents who made an effort and actively tried to be there for their kids, to get to know them and encourage their interests.

Jack and Maddie had never really done that for Danny, not really. They did it with Jazz to an extent, but even then it wasn’t the way Danny had seen other parents interact with their kids, it wasn’t the same way that Dick and Barbara seemed to interact with Danny.

But even though he had those niggling thoughts, he still strived for their approval, for their love and attention and he never really seemed to get it.

Then they had found out that Danny was a halfa and Danny found himself fighting for his life to get away from the Fenton’s. They had held him captive for a week before he had finally found a way to escape. And then he ran and ran and ran until he found himself in Bludhaven, New Jersey and living on the streets.

But living on the streets was by far better than being the Fenton’s prisoners. It was after three months of living on the streets that Nightwing had found him beating the shit out of a mugger who had been attacking a woman. Then two months of the two of them talking and learning more about each other. And then Nightwing had decided he wanted Danny to live with him, not only that but he wanted to help Danny get justice. And then Danny learned that Nightwing was Dick Grayson and Danny found himself getting adopted by the thirty-one-year-old and his wife, Barbara.

And then it had become the best six months of Danny’s life. The couple were amazing and he found himself seeing Dick and Barbara as his parents more and more. Part of him wondered if he should have felt bad about how easy it was to replace Jack Fenton and Maddie

But then Danny reminded himself that Jack Fenton and Maddie Fenton were now serving a life sentence in Belle Reve down in Louisiana for torturing and vivisecting his then fifteen-year-old son. Then Danny didn’t feel nearly as bad. Especially not when he was the one who was forced to look at the vivisection scars that marred his chest or the lightning-shaped scars that trailed from the palm of his hand to his heart. Then he remembered that not only had his parents experimented on and tortured him. But they had also created an unsafe environment that led to Danny’s half-death in the first place.

Dick had been the one to tell him that it was their fault he had died in the first place. Had clenched his jaw and shook in anger as he held back from flying to Amity Park to kill the Fentons himself. Jason, Dick’s brother, had been more than happy to help him finish the job when Dick had told him what happened.

That was another thing.

Dick’s family was insane.

But in a good way. Not Fenton’s level insane. But an insane where Danny knew that he could call any of them and they would come to fight for him, even Damian who had been a little prickly when he found out that Dick was adopting a kid the same age as him. Damian had shown him his sword collection once and then viciously announced that anyone who laid a single finger on his nephew’s head would see just how deadly the Robin could truly be.

Which, well, Danny appreciated. But he had also quietly decided that he would never let Damian know if something happened. He really didn’t want to be the reason his uncle went to juvie.

Jason was fun, the two bonded over their deaths and compared scars. Cass was a calm peace that Danny found himself appreciating when the others were a bit too much. Tim had to be Danny’s favorite out of his new uncles.

Tim was the one who took him train hopping, who he cried to about the fact that his parents had been so horrible to him. Tim was the one who understood what it was like to grow up with neglectful parents who loved their work more.

Duke was kind and funny and conniving and as the only other meta in the family the two had created a fun camaraderie between them and Danny felt comforted in knowing that they had that solidarity between them. Duke was also the one who Danny found himself going to when his shoulders felt a little too heavy with the weight of everything that had happened.

Danny’s new grandfather and great-grandfather had been wonderful too. They had accepted Danny with open arms and Danny was pretty sure he had heard Bruce argue with Dick about adoption papers a few times in regards to Danny and being put out that Dick had beat him to it. Whatever the heck that meant.

And then there was Danny’s new adoptive mother, Barbara and she had been a pillar when Danny needed one. She had welcomed Danny to their home with open arms and had been the one to spearhead the investigation into the Fentons. The one who had gotten a hold of Danny’s records and taken care of virtually everything. She scared the absolute shit out of Danny but also gave the most amazing advice, the most comforting hugs, and had been exactly what Danny needed. She was also the one to show Danny that he could still be a hero without going out onto the field and had decided to train Danny to be an Oracle in his own right.

He had kept the name Phantom. But now it was more so because he was a ghost who saw everything and heard everything. He went out onto the field with the bats when they absolutely needed his firepower, but his preferred spot was being the man behind the scenes. After everything he had gone through being a vigilante in Amity Park, he wasn’t sure if he would ever want to be out there fighting bad guys, not like he was.

Again, he didn’t mind it when the bats really needed help, or if a disaster happened and they needed Danny’s powers to help out. He had even let Bruce train him to be able to fight just as good as any of the bats, and let Barbara’s Birds of Prey teach him some tricks that Bruce would never approve of.

But he was happy. He was happy and loved and safe and he couldn’t get over the fact that he had such an amazing family all for himself.

Barbara and Dick were amazing and had folded Danny into their family so seamlessly and wonderfully that it had him feeling safer than he had ever felt in his life.

Which was why he was so damn nervous about what he was about to do, why his birthday felt so terrifying and anxiety-inducing. He had decided that he was going to officially call Dick and Barbara his mom and dad today and he was hoping it went well.

He didn’t think they’d be mad. In all honesty, he was pretty sure that they’d be pretty pumped about it. But that didn’t take the nerves and anxiety away either.

He shook his head and finally allowed himself to walk out of his bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen where Barbara was bringing food to the dining room table while Dick was flipping a pancake onto another plate.

“Good morning Danny!” Barbara said cheerfully when she spotted Danny coming in. The sixteen-year-old gave her a nervous smile, bent down and kissed her cheek lightly.

“Morning Mom,” he said before he could back out of it. He glanced over at Dick who was now staring at him starstruck. “Morning Dad,” he said cheerfully before he waltzed over and grabbed the plate in his father’s frozen hands.

“I get birthday pancakes? Sweet,” he said with a wide smile before he grabbed a fork and made it back to the table, his adoptive parents both seemingly frozen in place. He tilted his head to the side as he took in Barbara’s form as she sat frozen in her wheelchair and to Dick who hadn’t moved, even after Danny took the plate from his hands. Maybe it was too soon to call them his parents, maybe they didn’t want that. Regret started to nibble at the edges of his stomach as he looked at them.

“Are you guys okay?” He asked hesitantly before his dad let out a loud sob and came running towards him and hugged him tight.

“My baby!” Dick cried, his arms wrapped tight against Danny’s chest. It was like he was being held onto by an octopus. Dick pulled the plate of pancakes away from Danny and set it on the table. Danny let out a groan as he struggled against his dad’s grip as Dick started to pepper his head and his cheeks with kisses. “Danny Grayson I love you so much,” he cried out.

“Dick,” Barbara said with a laugh as she rolled over, hitting Dick’s leg lightly with her wheelchair. “You’re going to smother our son,” she said and Danny felt the butterflies in his stomach start doing somersaults at that. Their son.

He was their son.

“I’m just so happy,” he cried out. “Fuck, is this how Bruce feels when we call him Dad?” he asked, letting out a sniff as he finally pulled away from Danny and started to fix the teenager’s hair.

“Yes, it is,” Danny’s mom said, giving him an amused smile. The redhead held her arms open for Danny and the sixteen-year-old happily bent down to give his mom a hug. “I love you, sweetie,” she said softly.

“Love you too,” he said with a chuckle. “Now, what’s all this?” He asked, motioning to the table that was full of different breakfast foods.

Barbara beamed. “We wanted to have a fun little breakfast before we started all of our birthday festivities. Dick and I have a few surprises for you, and we’re going to go and get lunch with my dad, then we’ve got a few more activities before we go over to Bruce’s tonight for your birthday party.”

Danny couldn’t help but smile widely at his parents. “We’re doing stuff all day?” He asked, feeling breathless and a little dizzy at the thought.

“Of course,” Dick said, slinging his arm over Danny’s shoulder. “Today’s all about you and we’ve got a lot to celebrate.”

Danny gave his parents a small, excited smile. “Yeah, we do,” he said softly. He had so much to celebrate, his new life, his new parents, his newfound happiness. He couldn’t wait to see where they were going to go from here. But he knew that it was going to be amazing. How could it not when he had such an amazing family taking care of him?

[somewhereincairparavel]

okay but imagine. Thalia Grace, after Jason's death, in a fit of desperation, comes racing to Nico di Angelo, wanting him to summon his ghost, because she just wants to talk to her brother one last time. Before it's too late. Before he reaches Elysium, since the closest she could get to talking to her brother after he goes to the hero's paradise is through dreams, and that wasn't enough for her. Seeing his fragmented soul through dreams is not nearly good enough. She wants the message to reach him. The real him. Not a loomy remnant. She wants to apologise, as she feels her soul being hollowed out with guilt.

She should've looked for Jason, even after their mother told her that he's dead.

She shouldn't have been so busy with the hunters that she would have to cut their brother-sister conversation short.

She should've realised how much her brother craved her attention.

She should've come to the chb meeting that she'd promised jason she'd come to, she shouldn't have made her brother wait like a lost puppy.

The look in jason's eyes when she told him she'd have to leave was etched on to her face. Permanently scarring her soul.

She should've been a better sister. She failed him. She failed to make him feel wanted. She hoped Jason didn't face his death thinking that she didn't need him. Because Gods of Olympus, that would break her.

And she poured all of these gut wrenching thoughts to Nico, who suprisingly listened. Yes. Nico did resent Thalia for being in the hunters of Artemis, the same group that got his sister killed. But listening to Thalia pour her heart out to him, really hit a little too close to home. The daughter of Zeus seemed to echo a young nico, trying aimlessly to summon his sister's ghost to talk to her. They both had the same hollow red eyes, burning with hot tears streaming down, the same crease in the eyebrows, the same flicker of rage over their siblings's murder. At that moment, Thalia Grace looked as unthreatening as the king of all god's daughter could possibly look like.

But Nico was glad, that Thalia, atleast cared about her little brother to this extent. Up until this point, Nico had these lingering doubts if Bianca had really cared about him like this, she had dropped everything to join the hunters after all. Hearing Thalia talk about jason had healed his inner child. Maybe big sisters do think about their younger brothers, no matter how busy they appear to be... So he complied to her wishes. She deserved closure from her brother's death. It would do Jason some good too.

He poured all of his concentration into summoning the son of Jupiter, as Thalia anxiously chewed on her nails, pacing around the murky woods in anticipation. Until a wispy figure with rimmed glasses and neatly cropped hair, appeared in front of them.

"Hello, sis."

Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace were more or less the same, when it came to wanting to make amends with their deceased sibling.

Except Thalia was the older sister who wanted her younger brother back, And Nico was the younger brother who wanted his older sister back.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #100

In the anti ecto acts it states that all ecto entities must be given to a government agency but it doesn’t say which agency. Danny after the nasty burger incident decides to take advantage of this fact and gives himself up to the justice league. The Justice league doesn’t know how to handle the teenage ghost that showed up one day and said he was turning himself into a government agency.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, fuck.”

The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”

“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”

“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.

They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.

“You still okay?”

“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”

She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”

“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”

“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”

“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”

“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”

“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”

“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”

“Wha — you do so!”

She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.

“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”

She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!

“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.

Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”

“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”

“Literally no.”

Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.

“Hey, Will.”

He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.

“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”

Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”

He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.

She shrugs.

“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”

Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.

The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.

But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.

With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.

“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”

“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”

“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”

Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.

“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”

Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”

“Shoot.”

Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”

Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.

Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.

“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”

Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —

“Nico!”

The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.

Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.

“Nico! Hi!”

“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”

Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”

Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.

“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”

“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.

“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”

A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.

“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”

Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”

“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”

A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”

“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”

“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”

“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.

On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.

Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”

“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”

Will’s face is a similar shade.

“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”

Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”

“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.

Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”

With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.

“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”

“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.

Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.

“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”

Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”

Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.

“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”

Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”

“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”

Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”

“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”

“Hey, I earned that.”

Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.

“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.

Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Durge: *Slams a cultist up against a wall, holding them by the throat.* I'm going to enjoy skinning you alive. I'll make it slow, so that by the time it's done your throat will have bled raw from your agonized screams.

Astarion: Darling, I'm hurt. I thought that sort of talk you only reserved for me in the fervor of our bedroom?

*Collective groans of exasperation and disgust.*

Lae'zel: Kainyank! Put gold into the Jack's Ass jar.

Gale: *Holds up jar.* Jackass jar. We've gone over this.

Lae'zel: As I have said before, this term 'jackass' is illogical. Who is this Jack and why is it an insult to call somebody his ass?

Gale: And as I have said before, there is no Jack! That's just what the word is! It doesn't have to be logical!

Lae'zel: You humans are tiresomely vexing. I propose we call it the Galeass jar. Then, at least, the insult will have weight.

Astarion: *Drops a gold into the Galeass jar.* Worth it.

- - - -

BG3 Incorrect Quotes Masterlist.

[only2braincellsavailable]

The birthday card Damien gives to Jason in hopes of triggering something and ruining the day ("Let Father see how inferior he is because of his poor emotional control...and because Grayson is making me give him something").

Jason ends up framing it and nearly crying with laughter every time he walks past it.

[lemonandpie]

Jason had a favorite perch when he was Robin. It was just a statue behind the library, with a wing you could sit under when it was raining, but Dick never paid attention to it and Tim never even knew about it, so it became his place, a symbol of his Robin. 

He didn’t think anyone noticed until he came back and found that the statue had been turned into a shrine to the dead Robin by the local kids