#he looks like a chum

[spacedace]

Had a thought about the Reluctant War and made myself a bit sad and I have no idea if it'll make it into the story proper so I'm going to inflict it upon all you guys:

Dick Grayson on the streets of Gotham trying to do everything he can to help as everyone join the ghosts in fighting the GIW, suddenly has a version of the GAV barreling down towards him and for some reason he can't get out of the way in time.

He thinks he's about to join the army of the dead in a whole new way, when the tank fo a vehicle is suddenly sent flying as something massive charged it from the side. He hears a familiar bellowing and then realizes that it's Zitka, a ghost after passing away peacefully a few years before.

She wasn't apart of the army of the ghosts, wasn't brought in to fight. She's just been following her tiny human child around all these years and now that there's enough ecto in the air to do so, she's going to protect him with all her might.

Dick is emotional, so thankful to have his old friend back, but the city is still in a state of chaos. He gets onto Zitka's back and they get to work, running - flying - around helping to grab the injured and whisk them away to safety or take out other GAVs and the like.

It's absurd and freeing and wonderful all at once to be literally flying through the skies of Gotham on the ghost of his elephant best friend, and if Dick wasn't already on the side of King Phantom he is *now* and -

He gets shot off Zitka's back.

A GIW agent was aiming for the Ghost elephant but somehow *missed* and hit Dick instead. Not enough to injure him too badly, but enough to send him flying off Zitka's back and plummeting to the ground. His grapple is broken, and Zitka is diving for him but she's being shot at and she's not going to make it in time and -

A hand, reaching out to him in midair, familiar with its callouses and strong grip as he reaches out and grasps it, body suddenly swinging in a different direction and muscles acting on memory as he falls into the old, achingly familiar routine of his childhood. His mother, ethereal and bright as she smiles down at him, hanging upside down from a bar suspended from nothing but open sky as they swing and he is let go, flipping on instinct and caught by the steady strong hands of his father.

The Flying Graysons reunited in the skies above Gotham, Dick's ghostly parents determined to ensure their little bird never falls the way they did.

[thebeingmerf]

sl seer but special request where he looks goober-ish. Like this sorta idk !!!

[zombiifyd]

thinking about gillion "5'9" but 5'1 when no one is looking directly at him" tidestrider. champion of the undersea hero of the deep. pideon lord. the one. singer slash songwriter of gillion and the tidestriders the hole in your heart. moisyure mastruer gajwb JNDND MXn!'znsn.......

[sharkkweak]

Fucking Lego

[autismbrain]

im honestly scared of him

[kakusu-shipping]

Salmonid Dad

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

[solarplanet2]

Which one is in Danger?

Part 2

DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles

Part 1

"We have your son."

Bruce was expecting a very normal day. If you consider having to deal with the chaos of his children and being a vigilante at night as normal.

But nonetheless, a very simple day of his normal routine and once a week dinner with his family.

Only to be broken by a phone call by someone stating that his son has been kidnapped.

Bruce didn't answer right away, he was mentally counting his sons who, are all counted for, are on the dinner table.

"Which one?" Bruce eyed each of his sons and counted them again just to be sure.

"Timothy Drake-Wayne."

Bruce immediately eyed Tim who was sitting in between Jason and Cass.

Tim's here.

Then who's the one being kidnapped?

"Bruce?" Dick spoke up, thinking that something was wrong the way Bruce was looking at all of them.

Bruce slightly waved at Dick, telling him to calm down first. "What do you want?"

Dick's question seemed to catch everyone's attention since they were all looking at Bruce now.

"Two Million. Or he gets it."

A standard threat. The kind he was expecting.

"Can I speak to my son?" This earned confused looks of his children and Bruce waved them off gesturing that it was not what they were thinking about.

"Alright kid," The kidnapper from the other said grunted, almost sounding smug. "Say hello to Daddy."

Bruce could hear heavy breathing, almost sounding like a grunt. It made Bruce slightly worried. "...Tim?" Bruce decided to speak first. "Tim, Are you okay?" And Bruce hopes that he is.

A soft grunt responded. "Hi." A croaked voice managed to respond. It sounded young. And was punched in the stomach. He should know, almost all of his children had experienced that way.

"Don't worry, chum. I'm getting you out of there." Bruce tried reassuring the kid, worried about what they might do to him. Because this isn't Tim. Tim is right across from him and these kidnappers basically had kidnapped the wrong person.

He gestured to his children, a familiar gesture, for them to head to the cave and suit up. They quickly followed, not without worried glances and confused glances at Bruce's way.

"No.." The kid had said, choked out which made Bruce paused on his step in confusion. It caught his children's attention, stopping as well.

"Uhm...Dad? I'll be fine."

Bruce believed that, for some reason, but it didn't stop his worry. But the next words from the boy made him blink

"Please give me your permission."

"....To what?" Bruce asked confusingly. Permission to what?

"To hurt."

Bruce has raised enough children to know enough about silent words in some part of the sentences without right out saying it.

To hurt them.

The kid is asking permission to hurt his kidnappers.

Bruce should say no and wait for help. Should be saying that help is on the way.

Bruce should say that he'll come and save him.

Now, Bruce doesn't normally follow his gut. It causes too much mystery and had no explanation to either it would be a good thing or a bad thing.

But right now, for once, Bruce would agree with his gut.

"....Alright."

Static came in the phone, like it was losing signal but he could clearly hear the boy voice coming out like an echo.

"Good."

"What the-- AAAHHH!!!"

Beeeepppp

Bruce blinked as he looked down at his phone after the call ended.

.....Should he have not give him permission?

"B? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Dick asked, increasingly worried now as he saw Bruce staring at his phone.

"....Suit up." Bruce concluded. They should find the boy as quickly as possible. "And call an ambulance."

Bruce could see the confused look at everyone's faces as he walked passed them.

"Wait, B!" Duke had spoke up running after Bruce with his siblings. "Was someone hurt? Is it another gang fight?"

"No. The ambulance is for the kidnappers."

".....What??"

: )

Parts: Part 1

[charlietheepicwriter7]

De-Aged Danny, gesturing to a dazed Bruce inside Wayne Manor: And this is Bruce! Otherwise known as the Himbo! Reporters: Hmm, yes, interesting... Bruce: What the- Danny: I'm not sure what that word means. I heard it from Dick, but no one will give me my answer, not even Jason, who is easily bribed. Bruce: Why are there reporters in my house!? Danny, innocent and childlike: They asked to come inside, Bruce! They seemed like really nice people, so I thought it'd be polite to give them a tour. Bruce, filled with infinite patience: I really wish you had asked me before you did that, chum. Danny: But why? We don't have anything to hide... do we, Bruce?

Or, in order to rise to the Ghost Throne, Danny has to complete a series of trials to prove he is capable of ruling (or any other reason, Danny just needs to do trials to prove himself).

The last trial, issued by Clockwork, is thus: discover the Wayne Family secret in two weeks without the use of any of his powers.

He has one shapeshift to pick a form that could endere him to the Waynes, but only one before he starts and he has to get close to the family by his own wits. Danny, after studying the family and reading of one sentence summary of each Wayne, picks the body of a six-year-old little boy that looked like a child Jason Todd.

Bruce: That child is up to something. Dick, third favorite: I don't know, Bruce; he acts like a normal kid. Jason, #1 favorite: I doubt the old man's ever met a normal kid. Tim, least favorite: Bruce is right, but can you please not talk like the villains from Chicken Run.

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

headcannon that Bruce has blocked seriously every single thirst trap/edits on him from all devices which his children use, meaning they never really knew how much the public simps on him and how much ✨sass✨ he gives off whenever he's out as Brucie cause he also makes sure that he doesn't act like that whenever he's at a gala with his kids. Basically what I want is-

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

*bursts into the manor*

Dick : DAD WHAT THE FUCK DID U MEAN WHEN U TOLD LEX THAT HIS HEAD IS SHINNER THAN HIS FUTURE, AND THEN ASKED HIM WHY HE WAS RACIST TO SUPERMAN INFRONT OF A THOUSAND REPORTERS?????

Bruce: chum listen-

*red hood burns down the front door*

Bruce: J-Jason-?!

jason :(fresh out from the dead) YOU HAD A THREESOM WITH THE MAYOR AND HIS WIFE THEN EXPOSED THEM FOR MONEY LAUNDERING AND TOLD THEM THEY WERE TERRBLE IN BED.IN.COURT?????!??

Bruce: uh um well it was for justic-

*bursts in through the window*

(let's pretend tim didn't know even if he was a stalker cause his internet access was limited cause of his parents and he didn't care about what others thought of Bruce and never bothered to look into it at all when he was living with him, thought Bruce just blocking it cause he didn't want the kids seeing him pretend to airhead ) (boy was he wrong)

Tim: YOU HAVE ELEVEN PIERCINGS AND YOU WENT TO NINE INCH NAIL CONCERTS WEARING CHAINS????? THERE ARE MORE THIRST TRAPS OF YOU THAN THERE ARE NUMBERS IN MY BANK ACCOUNT!??

Bruce: um-well-uh-about that-

*appears*

Cass *sparkling eyes* fashion show!! Dress! Pretty! (You look so pretty when u walk in fashion shows in a dress!!!)

Bruce: oh thank you cass-

Jason,dick, tim: WHAT

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

Damian: *blissfully unaware back in the league cause Talia didn't tell him either* *she doesn't want to ruin the surprise, she finds it all hilarious*

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Everyone just goes to Dick's place and he welcomes them as long as they do something for him in return.

Jason knocks on Dick's door, helmet already off - Hey Dickiebird, *flashing him with a large smile* I'm gonna crash here cus Bruce knows where all of my safehouses are now and I don't wanna face him.

Dick - As long as you cook, Jay, cus I have a broken arm right now. And you patch up whatever argument you have with Bruce.

Jason - You're no fun, Dick. And let me patch your arm first, you're gonna bleed out.

Dick - Aw Little Wing looking out for his big brother.

Jason - You big goof.

Tim has made a duplicate key of Dick's apartment door because that boy is always steps ahead of everyone.

Dick is startled as he settles on the bed, getting ready to sleep - What the fu-Timmy! How did you- I'm not even gonna ask.

Tim flashes the duplicate key with exhausted eyes - Yup, already made a duplicate, Dick. And can I sleep in your place tonight? I don't think I can make it to the Manor.

Dick already has his arm wide open for Tim - As long as you don't snore, Timbalina, cus you've been awake for days now.

Damian tries his best to unlock Dick's apartment door with his katana.

Dick is already opening it before Damian can do it for himself - Hey, Dami.

Damian - Grayson. I'm here tonight cus my cycle has a flat tire.

Dick - But you know how to fix that, Dami. Is that an excuse cus you just miss me?

Damian, doesn't say anything against that - Tt. That's absurd.

Dick - You can stay here if you like, even for more than one night, as long as you let me cuddle you.

Damian - That's too childish.

Dick - Then you can't stay-

Damian - Fine, fine.

Wally already zooms inside Dick's apartment before Dick could even close the door when he got his food delivery - Hey, Dick. Gonna stay here for a while. I burned my place and I'm hiding from Barry and Iris.

Dick - As long as you don't burn my place.

Wally - Won't let anything happen to you.

Bruce is already in Dick's place before Dick comes home from patrol - Hi, Chum. Just checking to see how you're doing.

Dick - You're really getting soft in your old age, B. I'm good.

Bruce - Can I stay here for the night? Just to make sure.

Dick - As long as you try to get some sleep, B. Instead of moping around.

Bruce - I'll make sure you sleep first.

Dick - You gonna tuck me in like before?

Bruce, without thinking and hesitation - If you want me to.

Dick - Getting soft, old man, getting soft.

And Dick doesn't mind that his loved ones go to his place. They don't even have to do something for him in return.

[clockwayswrites]

A bird what now? part 9

birdritch masterpost

"It will make him easy to keep an eye on,” Tim said.

Bruce sighed but gave a little nod. That was true. Even if this was nothing nefarious, they would have to keep an eye on Danny just to make sure that it wasn’t a reoccurring event. After all, with those running around like Clay Face, Man Bat, and Killer Croc there are plenty of people who had gotten turned into creatures and inhuman beings through: both their own fault and not. Bruce certainly hoped whatever was going on wasn’t the result of something being worked on at WE, but he would certainly have to meet with Lucius soon and double check that. It could always be something that Danny was working on in his own time or could have nothing to do with the company at all.

Gotham wasn’t exactly the safest place as far as chemicals in the water and air went. Though Bruce had been doing what he could through his own funds, initiatives at WE, and through his connections with the mayor. At least this mayor seemed like a good one (or as good as Gotham could hope for at the moment).

Progress could be slow, which was sometimes hard to accept.

“Put the bag on the table, Red Robin,” Bruce said with a little bit of a sigh in his words. Enter

“But B come on—” Tim started with a little furrow of his brow.

Bruce crouched down a little to meet Tim’s eyes. “I understand your inclination, Red Robin, you know I do. But we have enough information to look into this without invading what little privacy he has after waking up in the situation that he just did.”

“Oh,” Tim looked down at the bag and closed the flap over. “I guess I just… hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“I know, chum,” Bruce said. He squeezed Tim’s shoulder gently. “Go put the bag on the table for him and get yourself some coffee.”

“Coffee, coffee sounds amazing,” Tim said, mostly to himself, as he went to follow orders.

Bruce stuck his hands in the sweat pants he was wearing and trailed after Tim. He’d let his kids who needed the coffee go first, but he could really use some himself to deal with this morning. He stopped by Jason where the other was leaning against the meeting table and rubbing at the edges of his domino.

“Who thought Bat paranoia would pay off with us all putting these stupid things back on after showering,” Jason grumbled.

Bruce gave a soft ‘hm’.

“You got that good cream in stock? Cause this shit is going to itch wearing these all night.”

Bruce gave a little nod. “I’ll make sure you have a tub to take with you. Thank you for staying last night to watch over the family.”

“…yeah, sure old man.”

With a brief clasp to Jason’s shoulder, Bruce stepped up for his turn to get some coffee. Contrary to the easy jokes, Bruce didn’t enjoy his coffee dark and brooding like his soul and added a decent amount of cream to his cup.

“I don’t suppose that there’s enough in the pot for me?”

To his credit, Danny Fenton didn’t flinch as multiple white lensed gazes turned towards him. There was some water dripping off his hair, landing at his bare feet next to the too long sweatpants legs. Nightwing’s pants, Bruce’s mind supplied, just based on Fenton’s build. Though oddly the sweatshirt was definitely Bruce’s and absolutely swallowed Fenton.

Fenton reached up up and pulled the collar of the sweatshirt up over his freckled and scarred shoulder.

Scarred?

“Certainly,” Bruce said and reached for a mug. “Cream? Sugar?”

“A little of both, thank you,” Fenton said. He looked to his side as Cass came up to him and let her herd him to the table with a soft huff.

The rest of the Bats made their way there. Bruce set the mug down in front of Fenton and took the open seat to his left.

“What do you remember from last night.

Fenton took a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. “I left work about eight twenty.”

“That’s pretty late,” Tim interjected.

Fenton shrug and a gave half smile. “I have a habit of losing time, much to the annoyance of my boss. He’s who sent me home. I stopped and grabbed some food before I headed through Robinson park towards the station on the other side. Normally there’s no issue, but suddenly the vines were active and there was some sort of commotion off to my left.”

Bruce glanced towards Dick who gave a slight incline of his head. The commotion must have been them.

“My phone was dead— s’why I didn’t get my alarm to leave work, so I couldn’t check out if it was anything major,” Fenton continued. “I tried to back up and get out of the park but I was pretty surrounded. I wouldn’t have been too worried, but there was this flower, big and bold red. It popped and that’s the last clear thing I remember. After that it’s just… panic? I remember the flower was bad, my lungs felt like they were burning. I had to protect someone? Someones? And then there was a level of comfort. Then I woke up here.” Fenton’s hands hand tightened around his mug as he talked until he had a white knuckled clutch on it. “I’m hoping you all can fill in a few pieces.”

“Some,” Dick said. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Red Hood, Red Robin, and myself, Nightwing, were dealing with some criminals who were trying to bury a body in the park.”

“Really?” Fenton said incredulously. “Why did they think Posion Ivy would be okay with anyone digging in her park? Like sure, technically fertilizer, but really?”

“Right?” Dick agreed with a smile. “She was pretty unhappy. I’m assuming that’s what made the vines agitated. Sorry about that.”

Fenton gave a little shrug. “Not like you all were trying to bury a body. At least not this time?”

Jason barked out a laugh at that that Bruce’s look didn’t quell at all. He just flicked Bruce off.

“Nope,” Dick continued, undeterred, “we just stopped then and then were trying to calm Pamela— Ivy down. That’s when you showed up, except you weren’t exactly… you.”

With excellent timing as always, Tim pulled up a still from his camera onto the monitor of the bird entity. Fenton paled to an alarming degree.

“What?” he croaked.

“This bird creature— you— crashed onto the scene,” Dick said as Tim let the video play. “Don’t worry, you were nonviolent. Well, at least not to anything other than Ivy’s plants.”

On screen Fenton’s bird form was wailing on a carnivorous flower as he pulled Nightwing to safety.

“Oh Ancients,” Fenton said and buried his face in his shaking hands.

“Mostly you just collected us. Cuddle pollen causes people to need living warmth and it was obvious that you were dosed as your feathers were covered in it, which then affected all of us also.”

“Most of us. I’m smart enough to wear a fucking mask,” Jason said.

“I always thought that was smart,” Fenton said weakly as he pulled his gaze back up to the screen. “I really didn’t hurt anyone?”

“Only Robin’s pride,” Tim chirped.

Damian growled back.

“Okay. Okay that’s… that’s good. I, um… yeah, that’s new. The bird thing. That’s new,” Fenton said as he watched the video play out until Red Robin’s camera was obscured by feathers.

Bruce reached out to rest his hand across Fenton’s shoulder blades, tapping out a rhythm for him to breathe to.

Fenton sent him a shaky smile.

“Unsure about what you were, but knowing you had been affected by cuddle pollen and were… collecting my children, bringing you back to the cave seemed the best action,” Bruce explained. “As most of us were affected, it was easiest to stay close. It was unexpected to wake up to you being human.”

“Yeah, yeah I bet,” Fenton agreed. His gazed was glued to the screen again, the new now from Black Bat’s camera. “I wouldn’t have expected it either. That’s… yeah. That’s new.”

Bruce caught Cass’s attention and got a subtle assurance back. Fenton didn’t know why he had become a bird either. At least that decreased the chance of the man having been experimenting on himself.

“Do you work with chemicals at work?” Bruce asked. He would of course find this out from Lucius, but Fenton shouldn’t suspect that.

Fenton blinked at him. “What? Oh, no. Basic things, solder and acetone and the such. Nothing that should have any wild effects.” He hesitated then, chewing on his lips as his eyes flicked from Bruce to the screen where he was currently snagging Black Bat with one of the many legs. “But I was exposed to a lot of weird stuff as a kid. My parents had… poor lab safety and I really didn’t know any better. I guess that something in the flowers… reacted really badly? If there was some other triggers or something around in the air. That’s all I can think, but it had to be one hell of an environmental cocktail and not one I want to repeat.”

Bruce could believe Fenton’s aversion with the way he trembled under Bruce’s hand.

-

“You’ll be alright.” Danny wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement, so he nodded and put on the best smile he could at the moment. “Well, I’m currently not a giant bird entity so I think so.”

They were tucked away in an alley close enough to home that Danny could walk it. The attempt at privacy didn’t make it any less weird to be standing there in borrowed clothing and talking to Batman who sat atop an intimidating looking motorcycle. Danny hoped it was still hellishly early enough to avoid most of the scrutiny of his neighbors.

Batman went still for a moment in a way that had Danny tilting his head before the man reached into his utility belt and handed over a black keyfob of some sort.

“It’s an emergency beacon. Twist it one-eighty and press the button for three seconds and we will have your location. If you’re exposed to something odd or fear you might shift, use it.”

“In case I’m a danger?”

“In case you need help, including if you’re irrational and need a safe space to calm down.”

Danny chewed on his lip for a moment before he held out his hand. He tried to ignore the tremor in it, even if the shaking was blatantly obvious. Batman set the fob in his hand with surprising gentleness.

“Use it if you need it.”

“Okay.” Danny took a step back. “Thanks for the ride back, even if I had to be blindfolded for it.”

“Precautions.”

Danny just shrugged. “You have a family to protect, I get it. Keep them safe.”

Batman gave a little nod and Danny took that as his chance to head out of the alleyway and quickly down the street to his apartment. He needed food and to call Sam.

No, he needed to push up that visit to see Frostbite.

---

AN: Can't believe there's 3 chapters of this silliness now. Didn't expect to get this far, but really needed something with no stress to write after the morning I had. Doing my best to hang in there. Stay delightful, darlings.

[haveihitanerve]

yknow that one issue of Batman where they actually let Bruce be a good dad for once and he adopts Dick and before he hands over the pen to let Dick sign he says "i need you to promise me" and dick immediatly goes "anything" and for some reason i just need that to be common between them.

When Dick first came to the manor and tries to run away but bruce catches him and instead of a punishment they tour gotham and bruce takes him out for ice cream and a movie and at the end of the night he goes "i need you to promise me." and dick goes "anything" and bruce is like "please dont leave without telling me again. i thought i did something wrong" and dick goes "okay."

years later Dick is hurt as robin, confined to the med bay and its because he went after Bane alone and Bruce sits at his bedside nonstop until he wakes up and clutches his hand and when dick wakes bruce goes "i need you to promise me" "anything." dick whispers, just so relieved that bruce is there and talking to him and hasnt left and bruce goes clutches him close and breathes 'please dont ever scare me like that again chum'

when jason joins it serves as something reliable for him. comforting. Dick and Bruce have a screaming match in the foyer and he creeps down the stairs to check on them because its quiet and both are facing away, angry. But bruce slumps a little and whispers "i need you to promise me." and jason holds his breath because dick looks so angry, but just like that the anger dissapates and dick whispers "Anything."

Tim comes and jason dies and tim clings to their phrase like its his very soul, waiting anxiously everytime for bruce to say "i need you to promise me." and dick offers a quick grin and a wink and says "anything."

Stephs there and she mimicks bruce to dick and dick to bruce whenever theyve fought and havent made up, dicks in his room angry, bruce is in the cave quiet, muttering to himself, and steph deepens her voice, throws some pep and sadness in and goes "i need you to promise me" and bruce deflates and whispers back "anything." and she creeps into the ceiling above dick and goes even deeper and growls "i need you to promise me" and dick wipes his tears and lets out a shuddery "anything." and their relationship is not yet broken

Cass locks them up together until she hears those words, babs collects every single recording of them ever saying it and blasts it full volume around them, Damian sneakily trips bruce on patrol, just enough to attract notice and dick comes rushing over and bruce grunts im fine and dick gives him a look and goes "i need you to promise me." and bruce rolls his eyes but smiles and goes "anything."

now, when its stable again, before missions or patrol, they do it as a sort of ritual. "I need you to promise me." As hes sticking sharp spray into his belt. Dick winks as he loads his grapple gun. "anything." About to run into battle. "I need you to promise me." "Anything." Bruce is going away on a league mission. "I need you to promise me." Dick whispers, tears he wont let fall in his eyes. "anything." Bruce breathes back.

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1

-

The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.

Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.

The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home). 

Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?

Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep). 

He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that. 

Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?

Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.

He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite. 

Then, one day, he meets a girl.

Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.

He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back. 

“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket. 

“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.

“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”

She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle. 

He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed. 

He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth. 

“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle. 

“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him. 

“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”

Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.

He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor. 

When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue. 

Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later. 

In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes. 

A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind. 

He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself. 

Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?

He looks pointedly away. 

It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?

Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave. 

“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”

“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.

“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”

“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”

The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder. 

When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift. 

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”

It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction. 

Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that. 

“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”

[seven-oh-four]

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🦑 give-inkbrush-crab-tank Follow

does anyone know how people do that hairstyle where they have suckers on the outside of their hair? i think it looks really cool and i wanna try it out

3 notes

🎣 grizzco-goobschnoozlers-deactivat Follow

um. guys have you read the. grizzco handbook. im beginning to think the salmonids might not be unfeeling unthinking monsters guys. are we the bad guys

🐡 toni-kensa-packer-deactivated1402 Follow

oh squit they fuckin killed op

28 notes

📱 krak-off-splat-roller Follow

anyone else find li'l judd a little creepy? :/

🐱 lil-judd-official Follow

Fuck you. Actually fucking kill yourself.

📱 krak-off-splat-roller Follow

HUH???????????????

1,704 notes

🍣 smallfry-deactivated140170721 Follow

ABOUT TO GO ON MY FIRST BIG RUN WISH ME LUCK!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

GOOD LUCK! WARGLARGLA!!

🍣 smallfry-deactivated140170721 Follow

THANK YOU MY BROTHER!! I WILL NOW GO INTO BATTLE!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

OP HAS FED THE SEA WITH ITS FLESH!! REJOICE!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

WARGLARGLA!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

WARGLARGLA!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

WARGLARGLA!!

🎏 flyfish Follow

DO NOT BE SO HASTY MY BROTHERS!! I HAVE SIMPLY BEEN PROMOTED TO FLYFISH!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

CONGRATULATIONS BROTHER!! WARGLAGLA!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

WARGLAGLA!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

WARGLAGLA!!

🍣 smallfry Follow

WARGLAGLA!!

108 notes

🐙 eight-8 Follow

About to go to the promised land!!! ^-^ Ahhh I'm so excited!!! >_<

8 notes

🍣 he-who-devoured-seven-inklings-under-the-full-moon Follow

JUST GOT MY OWN NAME

🍣 the-first-chum-to-earn-the-title-of-grandmaster-cook-as-well-as-the-victor-of-the-biannual-fishpaste-fortress-culinary-competition-and-the-right-hand-chef-of-the-salmonid-priestess-selenia-of-the-sixth-ring-who-provides-ritual-food-offerings Follow

HELL YEAH BROTHER

46 notes

🐻 grizzco-official Follow

This pride month we'd like to remind you that Grizzco is not in any way homophobic. We love bears.

80,744 notes

🦑 give-inkbrush-crab-tank Follow

IS CRUSTY SEAN'S NAME A FUCKING PUN

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🐙 eight-8 Follow

Wheare am i

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[chaoticace2005]

Vox: Save your little project or fight your greatest enemy. You can’t do both!

Alastor: I’m sorry… what did you just say?

Vox: You can’t do both?

Alastor: No! I mean the other thing.

Vox: Save the hotel or fight your greatest enemy?

Alastor: HA! You think you’re my greatest enemy?

Vox: Yes! You’re obsessed with me!

Alastor: HA! No I’m not.

Vox: Yes you are!

Alastor: No I’m not.

Vox: YES YOU ARE! Who else drives you to one up them the way I do?

Alastor: Lucifer.

Vox: No he doesn’t!

Alastor: Susan.

Vox: WHO?!

Alastor: Look my chum, I’d say I don’t currently have AN enemy. I am harassing a few different people.

Vox: What?!

Alastor: I like to fight around!

Vox: Okay okay, look. Im fine with you fighting other people if you wanna do that. But what we have is special. So when people ask you who’s your number one rival you say?!

Alastor: Susan.

Vox: NO! Are you seriously saying there is nothing- NOTHING special about our relationship?

Alastor, our aroace king: Woah! My dear, I don’t do “ships!”

Vox: What?

Alastor: As in “relationships”, there is no us.

Vox, immediately after Alastor leaves: *sobs and cuts his photo out of a group photo*