#prompt reply
Note
a scene-ish thing i’d really love to see is Noor having a comfy moment with Marta :)
i hope you feel better soon <3
Hair
Thank you, anon! I'm almost back on my feet, but this ask didn't let me go!
Content: BBU recovery
There was a knock at Marta's door, so light and quiet that she would have dismissed if she hadn't heard the soft shuffle of feet moving away.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and opened the door.
"Noor?"
He immediately turned to face her, gaze dropping to the floor.
"I'm… I'm sorry for disturbing you, Mis-…, Marta. I'm sorry, Marta. I'm... It was nothing."
She stifled a yawn and leaned to the door frame, shaking her head. "It's fine. You can come to me about little things, too, Noor, you know."
"But... But you are tired, and... and you need to deal with important things."
"I do." Marta gave a half shrug and smiled. "Like you. You are important to me. What is it?"
"I... You... You said I should come and ask if I ever..., if I needed something."
"I did." Marta nodded. "What is it?"
It was rather early, she thought to herself. They compared notes sometimes, in their own group and with other safehouse workers. Sometimes, when times where light enough to be easy going about it, Marta imagined them like young parents, trying to figure out what it meant that their kids took certain steps earlier or later than others. Sleep a full night alone. Lock the door behind them. Say no. Pick their own clothes.
Formulate a need or want.
"I... I need a hairdresser."
It was never what you expected.
"Okay," she said and gave him a reassuring smile. "Sure. It's... I might need to ask around a little, because of our situation. But I'll find one who can come here and take care of you. Is there anything in particular bothering you? Something we could start with?"
He looked at her, a little nervous, soft crease between his brows, and she asked herself how much of this insecurity had been there before, how of it much they had given him.
"It... It's meant to be shiny," he explained. "Shiny and soft, and just a little bit tousled, for that freshly fucked look."
She bit her tongue. Yeah. That definitely was courtesey of WRU.
"Mh-hm." Respecting his wishes, that was the thing that mattered. "It's important that you feel good in your own body." She stressed the you, maybe a little bit too much, but his face lit up with relief.
"Thank you, M... Marta." He set to turn around.
"Wait, Noor? Give me a second." She stepped into her bathroom, rummaged through the cabinet until she found what she was looking for and emerged again. "My... My mother in law, she's a weird woman, but very stylish, and very cultivated. Anyway - she wants me to keep good care of my hair and she gave me this." She handed him a bottle of conditioner. "If you like the smell, you can have it. I never used it. I'm sure it's very good. For long and thick hair, it says. Could be what you need. I'll still find you a hairdresser, of course. This is just... a first step, in a way."
Noor took the bottle very carefully, almost suspicious, his eyes flitting between it and her face. He held her gaze, while he smelled at it.
"Yes." The soft smile that spread on his lips was heartwarming. "I... I would like to use this."
"Do you know how to -" She paused. No. This wasn't actually what she meant, or what he needed. There was something else.
It wasn't like she had to be anywhere else, now or in the morning. She could be there for him.
She smiled back at him, before she started again. "If you'd accept it, Noor, I could wash your hair. With Shampoo, and conditioner, and I even think I have a hair mask somewhere."
Noor's eyes widened in disbelief. He clutched the bottle close to his chest, struggling for words. "But, you are... you are a person, Marta, and I'm... I... Do you want me to wash your hair? I could -" Something shifted in him, his posture, his voice, the tilt of his head, everything falling back into the shape he'd been looked into. "I could spoil you, until you forget -"
"Noor," Marta interrupted him gently. "Yes, I'm a person. And you're a person, too. A person, whom I care for. I'm very happy with my hair right now. You aren't so happy with yours. And I would like to be there for you, as a friend."
"Pets don't -"
Marta raised an eyebrow and Noor stopped, just silently looked at her with huge eyes.
"Person to person. Marta to Noor. Do you like getting your hair washed? I promise, I can be gentle."
"Yes," he said and swallowed thickly. "I... I like it very much."
"May I do it, then?"
He nodded. "Yes."
It was all but a whisper. But it was enough.
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7 in the playlist game for Viper, please!
Content warning: Swearing, mild sexual themes.
Characters: Viper and Seraphin @knight-in-exile
Song: Sloppy by King Mala ft. Upsahl
Thank you for the ask! @houserosaire and for letting me borrow Seraphin so heavily for this one.
His back slammed into the wall, knocking the breath from Viper. Pale blue eyes snap upwards, glinting bright and vicious. His lips peeled back, bearing elongated teeth at the man who held him by the throat. An inhuman hiss rattled out of Viper’s throat and between his teeth.
“Let him go!” Seraphin growled in response.
The hands on his shoulder crept up to either side of his face, tugging Seraphin’s head forward until his mouth crushed down against Viper’s. Seraphin’s body jerked even as his lips proved pliant against his lover’s demanding kiss. The misery to be had in finding one’s significant other possessed by Halone only knew what and trying to keep the balance between the two. He valued one and wanted the other to take a fucking hike already.
Viper’s groan rattled him. The arch of his back off the wall and the grind of his hard body against his could very well prove his undoing. Bloody fucking hell.
“Viper!”
Blue eyes fluttered. Viper’s vision cleared, the amber and red tints clouding his gaze earlier fading away to admit the vibrant golds and blues of the place he called home. The hands on either side of Seraphin’s face grew lax, slid down his neck to flatten against his chest. A shiver ransacked the duskwight’s figure. Seraphin wrapped his arms around him, pulled him from the wall to bring him close. If nothing else, the warmth of his body might be helpful.
“Had the weirdest fucking dream,” Viper murmured, burying his face into the crook of Seraphin’s neck.
“What about?” Seraphin’s hand slid up and down Viper’s back, trying to soothe the trembling from his limbs. The withdrawal symptoms were worrisome.
“About the beach. We were at the beach.” Pain tightened the sound of his voice, already half a croak. “Can remember the heat of the sand, the sound of the waves.”
Viper licked his lips and emitted an entirely different sort of groan. There was no pleasure in that noise, only anguish. He jerked back out of Seraphin’s arms, stumbled back a few steps before a bench made him park it in a hurry.
“I can taste them.” Viper whispered, hands covering his face.
“It’s a dream, Viper.” Seraphin followed after him, sinking into a crouch and reaching to gently grasp his lover’s wrists. “We’ll go back to Limsa soon. We can consult those people again. They did this to you, they can undo it.” The ‘or else’ was blatant in the growl of his words.
Viper’s hands fell away from his face, troubled eyes focusing on Seraphin’s face. They hadn’t calmed the trembling and the paleness underlying his grey skin was alarming. “I don’t think they can.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not the Hearer.” Viper met Seraphin’s gaze for half a heart beat, then looked away. “Promise me something?”
“What?” Seraphin gathered Viper’s hands in his, gripping them sure and firm. He glanced down when Viper gripped him hard in return.
“If life is going to fuck me more, you’ll stay with me?” Viper exhaled a breath and leaned back against the bench, his eyes heavy-lidded and the blue of them as clear as the sky on a sunny day. “Have to admit, Seraphin, I kinda like it. The feeling of heat swelling up inside me and the chase to sate the hunger before I lose my fucking mind. I love that I always open my eyes to you.”
Seraphin’s lips parted, but the reply on his tongue stalled out and he wound up swallowing the words entirely. The look in Viper’s eyes, the pleasure rumbling in his tired words left him uncertain how to answer.
Viper leaned forward once more, bringing his face a scant ilm or two from Seraphin. “I love you. I want to share everything I am or become with you. All the mess, all the good. Every moment, word, disaster. Promise me?”
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'' you're doing good. '' + poe or dealer's choice
A/N: poe dameron x gn!reader. emotional hurt/comfort. grief. snuggles. aftermath of a shutdown.
You don't really know what set it off. All you know is that halfway through lunch at the mess hall, you'd gotten to your feet and rushed back to your room, feeling a little bit like you were either going to puke or cry if people kept looking at you and trying to talk to you.
It was not a people day. As much as you loved (mostly) everyone in the Resistance, you wished they'd understand that more.
You'd lost your little BB unit, BB-D3, during a skirmish over a watery planet a year ago today. You'd been using a Resistance issued droid during fights since then, haven't had the heart to get a new personal droid since then.
Besides. BB-8 would probably be offended if you did.
But still. You'd loved your droid. Dee had meant the world to you and you had cried, hard, when the mechanic said there was nothing to be done.
You are in that kind of mood, melancholy, upset, tired, when Poe finds you curled up in the bunk you share with him.
"Sweetheart," Poe murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and quickly crossing the distance between you. "I was on patrol all morning, I came as soon as I could."
He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly touches your back, waits for your nod of approval before he presses a little more firmly and sweeps his hand up and down your spine. You curl around him a little - there was something about his presence, his touch that made him bearable in the face of all else becoming unbearable.
"I just miss her," you mutter into your pillow, miserable. Poe swipes his fingertip across your cheek, wiping away the tears there.
"I know, hon," Poe says. "C'mere."
You sit up and let him draw you close, leaning your head on his shoulders, and let the smell and warmth of him calm you.
"I know everyone thinks you should be over it," Poe begins softly, rocking side to side slightly, "but that's not how it works. I know you loved BB-D3. It's gonna take time. You're doing good. I haven't said it in awhile but I am so proud of you and all you do."
As he speaks, your tears begin anew, crying softly as his words and love wash over you.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," you whisper. Poe cranes his neck and kisses your forehead.
"If I have any say, you'll never have to find out."
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prompt: With power beyond compare, there was nothing the hero wanted…Except to be rid of it. (Via @feverfewm)
The hero waited. There had been a prophecy, once. But the Dark Lady had died before the final battle and he alone could hold the axe known as Starbreak. With it in hand, he had cut the sun in twain to banish the ever darkness and save the world.
That has been eight hundred years ago, the power of the axe sustaining him against age, against harm, against the weal and woe of the world. He had hunted monsters: all had fled from the power he carried and could not release.
Then the boy arrived. The boy had a grin the suns were dimmed by, and came with a cat that was perhaps not quite a cat (but this was true of all cats).
"Hi," he said jaysomely. "I have snacks!"
The hero sighed. Many had come to him, seeking to see the blade used.
But this time, the blade did not wish to swing. It shied away from the boy, and the hero felt something so alien he did not know the name for it.
"Do you want an axe?" the hero asked.
"I bet Muffin wants one for axeing questions!"
The cat meows, perhaps resigned.
The boy takes the axe, without issue, unaware as Starbreak attempts to shatter his form and will.
"It is really ticklish and fun!" And the hero is hugged, and left utterly baffled as the boy vanishes.
The cat watches the hero.
"I don't understand," the hero whispered.
"Jaysome is beyond curses, blessings and destinies," the cat said, almost kindly. "Do nothing unjaysome with the gift."
The hero gulped and nodded. Stared up at the sky that seemed free for the first time in so long.
And a Dark Lady perhaps smiled back, understsanding.
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K- King (If they were a ruler of a kingdom, what would their first order be?) And Papyrus!
Hmm… that’s a hard one. But if he were King…? And could give ANY command…?
Papyrus: “I’D IMMEDIATELY PUT UNDYNE ON THE THRONE. I DON’T WANT TO EXPERIENCE HAVING TO BE A LEADER EVER AGAIN… I LIKE BEING A KNIGHT INSTEAD!”
#overescape blog#undertale au#undertale#overescape#overescape au#overescapeau#overescape! papyrus#reply#prompt reply
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HI! Welcome back! I missed you!
So I've been scouring the prompt lists, and I have one! Sterek (obviously) + accidentally walking into a group function holding hands.
Hello Darling! I missed you, too! Very much so! I'm glad to be back and I'm very glad that you took the time to find a prompt for me! I hope you like it! It was a lot of fun to write!
Taking a walk along a sandy beach, with gentle waves lapping at the shore and small, fluffy clouds passing through the sky, was not something Stiles had ever thought he would enjoy.
Yet, he was walking barefoot through the warm, ankle-deep ocean water while a gentle breeze tugged on his oversized shirt. Stiles didn’t mind sunbathing when they were alone at their house. But he still didn’t feel comfortable showing the scars on his back when there was a chance of running across people—even people he would never see again.
Yet there was something very calming about the scene in front of them.
“What are you thinking about?”
Derek’s words were quiet. Almost quiet enough to be drowned out by the gentle noise of the waves. Stiles looked up, but his boyfriend kept looking ahead, a small smile on his face. He followed his gaze.
They were alone, as far as Stiles could see. The stretch of beach they were following turned to the left some hundred feet in front of them.
Large palm trees ran along the edge, offering shade to those who needed it.
“Nothing, really,” he answered after a long moment. “Just that this feels a little weird, I guess.”
“Weird? How do you mean that?” Derek’s warm eyes settled on his face, and Stiles thought the sun had lost some of its strength for a moment. Because the sudden rush of warmth and love he felt race across his skin had nothing to do with the sun. It was solely Derek's love for him.
And wasn’t that strange as well?
“Not a bad weird,” Stiles explained slowly. He captured Derek’s hand with his own, tangling their fingers. “Just a strange feeling of peace. Of harmony, if you will. I’m just not used to it, I guess.”
He chuckled softly. A prickle danced across his arms when Derek nodded with a grin.
“Yeah, that makes sense. We haven’t had that much peace in the last few years, have we?”
“Not really, no. But now that the nemeton has been restored, I hope we will have at least half a year of quiet time between the threats. I know that at least Scott will agree with me. He and Kira plan on trying for a baby once he’s done with college. I don’t think he’d appreciate the constant distractions.”
Derek’s warm laughter carried across the open space, and Stiles’ heart soared. His cheeks hurt, but he ignored it in favour of grinning with his boyfriend.
Eight months ago, he would have scowled and asked what was so funny.
Eight months ago, he would have snarked, griped, and done everything to get a rise out of Derek.
Eight months ago, he would have never thought about walking along a beautiful beach, hand in hand with a werewolf.
Eight months, long talks with his father and his pack and a lot of therapy with a supernaturally aligned psychiatrist had done wonders for Stiles as they had for Derek. There were still arguments to be had. Confusions to work through and misunderstandings untangle.
“Stiles?!” “Derek!?”
Their laughter stopped abruptly.
“Uhm, hi?” Stiles squeaked. The only reaction he received from Derek was a gentle tightening of his fingers.
There before them, sat around a roaring campfire, was the whole pack, including the adults. Most of them stared at the two of them with wide eyes.
His father and Peter were the only ones who didn’t seem surprised. Peter growled quietly, dug into his shorts, and pulled out a stack of bills he handed over to his father.
“You couldn’t have waited a few days longer?” He grumbled good-naturedly.
“Come now, Peter, I know my son,” John merely counted the money and smirked at him. “I’ve known about them since the beginning.”
“Wait!? What?”
~GENTLE PROMPTS~
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MORE M/M NSFW GIF PROMPTS // accepting
@stickbundles | [13] from whoever you'd want... | for Alan, Bruce, or Bran
This wasn’t how the boy expected to end his night but he sure hell wasn’t complaining. With his fist balled up and clenching the motel’s bed sheets, his face against the mattress with his back arched and his hips lifted, a heavy groan vibrated out of Christian’s throat and through the boy’s body as his hole clenched around the thick length buried inside him. There was a moment of hesitation as the man’s strong, calloused hands released his hips and let go of the boy but it only lasted for a moment before Christian began moving himself. He’d spent most of his night at the bar ignoring his job and focusing on him, and trying to flirt with and impress the man, so it was hardly a surprise when he started rocking himself back and forth; stretching himself open, and eagerly fucking himself, on the man’s thick cock.
“Oh-- oh god, oh fuck-- please...” he begged, his voice a broken timbre of whimpered whines and desperate breaths. “It feels so good, you’re-- you’re so-- oh god-- please...”
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all workers' strikes are good. yes even if they're inconvenient. even if they're making your life harder. even if you don't get to watch your favourite tv show. workers fighting for their rights is ALWAYS a good thing
#ETA: sag-aftra prompted me to make this post but this IS about ALL strikes.#support USPS support railway workers support teachers and doctors and nurses and miners and grocery story employees#commie on main or whatever#wga strike#sag aftra strike#444#fuck me for forgetting to turn off replies 💀#*100#*1k#*5k
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The bats have so many folks around, even if they aren't always working together. Enough that folks like to joke/write about Danny just kinda showing up acting like he already lives there. He just kinda blends in.
I'd love to see more magic motivated versions of this. Some kind of spell that affects the bat's perceptions of the past and present, making them actually miss that this boy wasn't with their family too long ago. Maybe it changes their understanding like it's a time line shift, maybe it fogs their mind just a tad and makes them glaze past something like it wasn't even there. I like the second if only because I feel like that would make it more likely for the bats to realize a spell was a foot.
Imagining this from Danny's side, hes terrified this whole time of getting found out. He knows how and when he showed up here and maybe even how flimsy whatever magic is in place is. Imagining a Desiree wish that was either very carefully worded or Not so carefully worded. Maybe he placed himself with the Wayne family with the expectation that he would quietly mooch of some rich idiot until he was ready to be on his own. Or maybe he wished himself to be a part of the batclan, taking up a mask and patroling with them as a bird that Doesn't Exist.
Ofc eventually the spell has to be broken, leaving the bats confused worried scared angry probably even amused, and a billion other things. WHY did this teenager decide to adopt himself into the Wayne/bat family? Who the hell is he and where did he come from. Someone call Zatanna, there is some magic Fuckery going on.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp#desiree is far too underutilized in this crossover#imagine if the bats tried to play it off like the spell hadnt broken#they wanna get information thry cant get that if the gig is up#depending on how well they feel like they actually know him they might think hes a flight risk#maybe hes been with them for weeks maybe this is day 5#anyway i know there been stories and prompts somewhere in the area of this pls pls pls share in the replies if u can
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Could you write fic based off of this img
《 ALSO ON AO3 》
Comments & kudos on ao3 are much appreciated, as are reblogs here on Tumblr! ❤️
The red hot branding iron was inches away from his other cheek when he woke with a choked gasp. His ragged breath was running away from him while his heart pounded like fists against his ribcage. His wide, pale blue eyes blinked frantically, adjusting to the darkness, trying desperately to latch onto something—anything—that didn’t belong in his dank, dark prison cell. A bed, he told himself. His chest rose and fell as if he was running a marathon. He swallowed hard. I’m in a bed. The only bed he’d known in Arkham was the cold, hard, filthy wood floor of his cage. But he could still feel the intense heat radiating off the cruel metal onto his tender, unbranded cheek; the Clown’s maniacal cackle still echoed in his ear. He clawed at his pillow, pulling it over his head as if he could hide from his master, as if he could drown out the grating laugh that would haunt him even after he was rotting away in his grave.
“He’s dead,” he panted as his body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, “he’s dead, he’s dead, I’m free,” he repeated, but icy terror still clutched at his throat as his mind refused to believe the words. The walls of the dark room seemed to close around him, swallowing him back down into the bowels of Arkham Asylum, where his master was waiting to punish him again. He choked back a scream. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, which he screwed shut. “Not again,” he whimpered helplessly. “Please don’t do it again.”
His muscles were as taut as a grappling cable. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He pulled shuddering knees to his chest, curling into the fetal position, as if he could protect himself from the crowbar in the Clown's lavender-gloved hands.
A pair of ungloved hands slid beneath the crooks of his arms, and he squealed in terrifying despair.
“Shh,” a voice whispered, as soft as satin, as gentle as a breeze. Then the warmth of an embrace enveloped him, dragging him out of hell.
“I-I’m sorry…” he stammered, sniffling. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, which flamed red with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you…”
She squeezed him even tighter, curling herself around him, wrapping him up in a cocoon of protection. Her heart beat steadily against his mutilated back, and he grounded himself with the comforting sensation; the reminder that he was needed, that he was loved.
“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re safe. I’m here…” She placed a tender kiss against his trembling shoulder, and his body relaxed in her arms. “I got you.”
#ty for the fabulous prompt!!! 🤩#sands replies#sands writes#my arkhamverse#jason todd#female reader#arkham knight#red hood#arkhamverse#jason todd x reader#arkham knight x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd imagine#arkham knight imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd fanfiction#whump#hurt/comfort#dcu
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Good girl, for free!Angel
Cw BBU (far into recovery)
[Angel's Story]
She flinches at the words, closes her eyes, lips twitching softly upward.
For a moment, she looks happy, like she's turned her face to the sun and is basking in its light, even though there's only the dim illumination of the courtroom's ceiling lights. Then she opens her eyes again, and her gaze is cold, taking you in, then wandering aside towards the cameras surrounding her.
"It works," she says, at them, not you. "Unsurprisingly. You place a spider onto the skin of an arachnophobic, they'll react in a certain way. You open a cool bottle of beer right in front of an alcoholic, they'll react. You say a couple of words to someone who has been tortured into reacting to them, they'll do just that. What does this say about me? Nothing you don't already know. What does it say about the person who provoked it?" Her eyes are back on you, and you feel some of the cameras follow. Angel shrugs. "That they're a bully. Someone who finds it funny hurting others based on what they know about their vulnerabilities. Congratulations, stranger." Her smile is sharp. "You've just proven to everyone that you're an asshole."
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Edarien for the shuffle. Number 8!
Content warning: Blood.
Characters: Edarien; mentions of Inwa @blisteringstar, Rain @rain-grey-falcon
Song: Big God by Florence and the Machine
Thank you for the ask! @cadrenebula
Fingertips bleed. Weep with the water trickling along the stone walls into the basin of water slumbering at his knees. His blood paints the rocks in symbols, one after another, a carefully etched prayer like his clan used to leave in the old days. Before the world shook and changed. Before his people were forced from the underworld into the light of the day.
Some of them closed their eyes and fell back asleep. Some of them forgot.
“We worship the oldest things in creation, Edarien.” His mother’s voice kisses his ears in memories. His eyes slide close and his fingers still against the cool stone. “They’re powerful, big enough to forever hold your affection. Be devout and you’ll want for nothing. I’ll teach you their ways, and you can help me teach them to your brother and sister.”
His eyes crack open, and he plunges his hand into the water, watching the ripples carrying rivulets of his blood outward. She hadn’t been wrong, his mother. Every word she uttered to him, every ritual and tradition she taught him were exactly as she said, powerful magic drawing on powerful entities. The one thing she had left out was the biggest thing to impact him and his siblings.
She had sacrificed them. To her gods. And gone to her grave holding the secrets of what she had done.
His hands grasp the basin, and he leans over to peer down into the water. Ice blue eyes stare at him. Until the darkness seeps in, swirling into the blue and obscuring it in the whirlpool. By the end of a few quick breaths, the abyss swims in his gaze and stares back at him. A shudder courses down his spine, and his lips part on a gasp. The burn is unbearable.
The whisperers prove themselves incapable of holding their tongues, the prayers, the pleas. The worshippers of his mother’s clan spread around Etheirys continue to believe in what they left behind in the darkness of a forgotten city. Unlike the city, their gods hadn’t been left to slumber and fall to ruin.
They had not been forgotten, and now they were waking, growing in power. How does one bend their mind around what it’s like to lose oneself to the consumption of an ancient being? The grief, the pain, the desperation to not lose everything he’s known to this point. The ease to fall into the whirlpool staring back at him and know he’s the power to pull cities into his torment. Drown them in the cold of the abyssal dark and the seas of a void beyond the light, beyond creation. What choice do they have? What choice will he have?
“Edarien?” The voice of Rain echoed through the caverns. “Are you down here? Edarien? Ah, there you are. Inwa is here. Will you come up and join us?”
His head rises, his abyssal eyes fixating on the figure of the Ishgardian coming toward him. Rain holds no fear of him. The Priest of the Sun that waits on them also bears no fear. This is what he needs to hang on to, the affection of others and the desire to be a part of them. In hopes they might hold on to him in return, and keep him from becoming lost.
“Yes, I’ll come join you.”
#Prompt reply#Song shuffle#writers on tumblr#ffxiv writers#edarien#duskwight#old gods#Thank you for the ask!
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Danny somehow some way accidentally gets stuck possessing bat man's cape
Now this isn't so bad for them danny gets a safe warm place to live and bruce gets what is basically the cloak of levitation plus the ability to hide in shadows (literally) and the presence of an eldritch entity
Unfortunately said entity is apparently a mother hen to rival Alfred (Alfred makes sure to take care washing the cloak afrer learning this)
Side note he can still eat while in the cloak the family find this out after bruce comes to dinner still wearing the cape and it latches over the dinner about a minute later it retracts leaving a empty plate
All magic users can now sense Batman from the EXTREMELY powerful aura coming from his cape.
#Danny is the Cloak of Levitation#danny phantom#dp x dc#dc comics#writing prompts#dpxdc#dp x dc prompt#bones replies#regonold
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Prompt:
Red Hood finds Nightwing in the throes of fear toxin, babbling about missed calls and text messages.
#prompts#you know the drill#Jason is very confused and also very pissed#where the hell is Batman when his precious robins need him?#certainly not where he should be no sir#instead Jason has to deal with this crap#and totally ruin his street cred as a newly minced crime lord#goddammit#also Dick needs to shut up a out stupid calls and texts#did he forget to reply to his gf or something?#Jason is in for one hell of a surprise when Nightwing suddenly starts screaming his name and begging him not to go after his mom#…huh#interesting#now how can Jason make this worse?#jason todd#batfamily#dick grayson#batfam#robin#nightwing#dick and Jason#batman
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Ahhhh this prompt made me giggly!
#my art#sea-replies#prompts#arranged marriage au#hijack#frostcup#rotg#httyd#jack frost#hiccup horrendous haddock lll#THANK YOU!!
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