#my fingers are my dick

[shesofie]

BITE EM

[ghostbsuter]

There was a teen in the cave.

A teen no one knows and looks like he could be a wayne, stands in the cave.

"Actually, I'm a wayne." He says with a shrug.

Bruce, Batman, carefully thinks of the implication.

"Not yet," The teen, Danny, doesn't say anything. Simple smiles. "You're not a wayne, yet. You will be. But not yet."

Then Bruce sighs, dropping the batman mask in order to take in the teen.

"Does future me know of the time travel?"

Dannys smile grows into a grin, deciding to take pity on the man. "You, grandbat, have..." He makes a vague gesture. "Theories, which none of your children ever confirmed."

The bat's mind short-circuits at the choice of words

Dick is sputtering incomprehensibly, there are Baffled expression all around.

Because.

Because that child isn't Bruce's, but one of theirs.

"Who is it?" Jason demands, hand clenching his gun uselessly.

Danny continues to smile, a hint of mischief now peeking out.

The cave is filled with theories, some yell, some sob, yet all eyes leave danny.

All but one pair.

She had known the moment his body language switched just enough for her to read.

She had known the moment he disappeared before the clan.

Had known when his hand found hers, shoulders bumping.

Her heart clenches, throat dry and memories of her childhood flooding to mind.

So she asks, voice soft and hesitant.

"Am I a good mother?"

And danny looks up at cass, adoration and pride laid out plain for her to see and accept.

"You're the best."

And so they both watch the clan together, silent and comfortable.

(Cass doesn't question when she finds him, how and why. All she knows is that she's more attentive when out on patrol, looking and waiting.)

(This is how Cassandra Cain-Wayne returns one night from patrol, a child, barely out of toddler stage and clinging to her form.)

(This is how the Batclan officially meets one Daniel James Cain-Wayne, freshly washed and clothed, a cookie in hand and hiding shyly behind Cass.)

(When they meet, all they say is "Welcome home, danny," and "Good to see you again.", Danny doesn't necessarily get it, but that's okay. Maybe his new mom will explain it one day when he's bigger.)

[undead-cypress]

This is how you know Will is not a player insert because upon gaining access to magic I would've immediately gone mad with power and started zapping people on the streets. And pretend it was divine retribution. As a treat for being Euchronia's specialest little owo.

Also, let me have a button to owo

[ive-been-timebombed]

PART TWO

Jason’s tired. Dicks drugged. Danny talking bout hotdogs. Everyone’s confused

What in the floppy flippy fish sticks. Or was it Flippy Floppy fish sticks? I don’t know been to long since me and Wally got together and cursed at each other. Curse is a strong word.. it was more like tell each other the stupidest things that come to mind instead of cussing.

Back on track Jason was staring at the sparkly king dude. And sparkly king dude is staring back. Oh Batman I’m getting a cramp. Really hope Little Wing thinks of something. Im all out of ideas that aren’t dislocate my bones. And blue boy already thought of that and tied me up a bit more special.

Man. I hate bondage. My Dick hurts! And I’m Dick! So everything hurts!

_________________

Holy ancients, that’s my child. That’s baby JayJay. And he has a core. A dying core. I did that. I left him to stave..

“My king? Is something wrong?” Okay I’m grateful to you for bringing me here but shut up space man. Danny looked down to the summoner and with a flick of his wrist the man tumbled to the ground like a bag of bricks.

Danny floated up and flew to the edge of the summoning circle looking down to see what shields the summoner had put.. only there weren’t any and Danny concludes that they were a complete baboon.

Danny walked out the circle and to his child. His ectoplasm was rancid, old and stale. From his core trying to absorb ectoplasm without the ability to clean it.

Danny bent down in front of Jay, “Hello, Ghostling” Danny said in fake confidence.

________________

Jason was not panicking he would like to point that out. He was merely trying not to yell. Or scramble back away from the being. Who was just crouching down in front of him. The being put its hand on his shoulder. It was cold yet warm at the same time. Like how one would feel after getting out a cold refreshing pool into the warm air.

“Hello, Ghostling” The being spoke to him, it was comforting and softer then how he spoke to Wickham.

..

Ghostling? The fuck was a Ghostling? Why did he have to be a ling? He’d much rather be just a ghost. Not ghostLING. That makes him sound like a child. Which he was a few years older than that.

Then Jason’s body felt cold and lightless then the ropes on his arms were off and his arms are free. Jason immediately scrambled back bragging his older brother in the process not taking his eyes of the floating man as he untied the vigilante.

“Ow- cramp,” Dickhead groaned as rolled to the floor holding onto his foot. With his now free hands. “I hate being tied up, Little Wing- holy smokes you’re not human.” Dick had fixed his mask as it was slipped down from sweat earlier blinding him. His eyes focused on the being that had floated back looking between the two vigilantes.

“No I am not, mostly at least.” The being shrugged looking at the two with a sly smile like he knew something the other two did not.

“Mostly.?” Dick repeated in a mumble sitting up

“What the fuck are you? Why do you quiet the pits?” Jason spoke as he stood up dragging Nightwing up with him.

“The pits? What are the pits.?” The being spoke with a tilt of its head.

____________

What are the pits? Should Danny comfort him? Oh it was so much easier when the kid barely had the ability to think. He missed the baby Jay. Now it’s big Jay. He certainly took after his grandpa. Guess it skips a generation..

“The pits? What are the pits.?” Danny asked his kid tilting his head in confusion. The pits.. pits? Armpits? No doubt it’s that. Mud pits? Danny gave up on trying to guess whatever a pit was. He was more concerned at the stale ectoplasm in his son. Could he even call him that anymore.?

“The Lazarus Pits! The bright green liquid that was used to summon you!” Jay grew angry? He doesn’t feel that angry.. his core is panicking? Does this Lazarus Pits force emotions? Or amplify it?

“You mean ectoplasm?” Danny asked glancing over at the other vigilante other than his son. He didn’t have a core, so he was still alive and mortal. He did however look atrociously high. Or drugged.

“What- you mean that shit from ghostbusters?” Jay seemed to relax? Maybe Danny’s clean ectoplasm is filtering into his system.

“If I had a hotdog for every time I heard that sentence. I’d have enough to start a war with the vegetables.” Danny floated up into a sitting position crossing his ankles.

__________________

Man, I miss Wally. He’d pay attention to me.. but no. I’m here listening to sparkly king dude and my Little Wing talk about something I could barely make out. Hotdogs? I’m hungry.

“Hotdogs..? Ain’t the saying dollar? War- what are you talking about-“ Little Wing said from beside me. King sparkles was looking at me. King sparkles kinda reminds him of little Jay.

“I think your friend is drugged.. looks like a second away from passing out.” King sparkles gestured to me, then Jason looked at me.

I’m gonna throw up.. Is that bad?

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[bittsandpieces]

you know how im always talking about not being able to cum without a vibrator? well. that might not be 100% true. as i may have just learned

[simpjaes]

can i fucking be mean for a second

y'all genuinely want these y/n fics to be REAL to you even if they aren't real for the writers...and you hate on us because your fantasy isn't exactly how you rubbed it out to be. you should be embarrassed sending hate to strangers over some fucking porn fic.

i don't owe you a motherfucking orgasm.

[cucuxumusu]

For @graytodd. Thanks a lot for your amazing dickjay art. I tried writing them as you draw them: cute and horny. Hope you like it.

Dick knew his little wing was touch starved. It was in the way he flinched whenever Bruce patted his back, or how he looked surprised whenever Alfred lay a hand on his shoulder. Jason was always glaring afterwards, acting annoyed and caged as if the touches only hurt him more instead of helping, or as if he never saw the goal for them.

The only exception to that rule was Dick.

Dick had noticed that Jason leaned into his touches whenever he patted him or ruffled his hair, he had noticed him sight in content once they were watching a movie and Jason’s legs pressed into his tight by accident. He didn’t seem to have a problem with him, just with the adults in the house touching him. The implications were worrying. It made Dick possessive and protective of the little boy even more than he already was, and so he took it upon himself to help Jason and be there where no one else was.

Dick called them ‘cuddling sessions’. Every afternoon when Jason returned from school Dick would spend time with him doing homework, both of them sitting next to each other, talking and touching all the time. It was him the one who spent time bandaging Jason slowly after training sessions, letting his hands linger for longer, and encouraging the other boy to touch him as well. But as the weeks passed and Jason’s initial reluctance faded, the sessions became a little bolder. Jason would appear in his room at night and ask to sleep together, he would initiate a hug, fall asleep on him, and just try to be as close to him as he could.

It was cute and adorable, and surprisingly it helped Jason as much as it helped Dick. He felt himself more centred, more relaxed as if he too had been touch-starved. That’s why, when Jason was killed, the blow felt even bigger for Dick than it should have been. There was suddenly an absence by his side, a lack of warmth while he slept, and no one hugging him back when he returned from a mission and had to face his wing’s empty room.

That was the hardest time in Dick’s life.

But then Jason came back. He looked and felt different from the little boy he remembered curling next to him in bed. He looked older, bigger, hotter, but so angry at the world that Dick could even feel it in his skin when he faced him. But it was still Jason, his little wing, the little boy he tried to help, and the one that he had hugged more times than he could count. He was back, and suddenly, life felt right once more. As months passed and the boy was accepted back into the family, things seemed to return to how they had always been and how they should have been.

The night Dick caught Jason sneaking into his apartment and getting into his bed as if years hadn’t passed, he said nothing. He just hugged him back and felt his whole world realign by how right this all seemed. He caressed Jason’s back learning the new shape of his body and how it matched so perfectly with his, and the new muscles and scars he carried. He kissed his brows and his forehead now covered with white bangs, and hugged him tighter than he had ever hugged anyone.

And Jason answered to him like he had always done, as if nothing had happened, as if his disappearance from Dicks life hadn’t shattered Dicks world.

He melted against his chest, sighed in pure bliss as Dick’s nails raked over his nape, and arched into Dick's touches with an almost sexual undertone. Jason buried his head in his throat as if he had just been dying to do so for months, he gripped Dick’s body back with the same desperation, and said nothing as Dick caressed him with affection.

The moment felt cathartic for both of them.

But it was also different than the others, more intense as if the separation had only aggravated the feelings between them. Back then Jason had been a child, a boy seeking warmth and love, now however both of them were fully grown adults, and the touch had stopped looking as innocent as they had once been.

Dick gripped the soft hair in Jason’s nape, a gesture that screamed dominance, and Jason’s body seemed to go motionless. The hands he had on Dick's shirt clenched, his breath catching, and his belly tightening as his eyes grew wide. Desire suddenly poured from both of them as they stared at each other, and both of them waited in silence to cross that last barrier, to turn this into something different. Something, Dick realized, that he had been wanting to do since his little wing had come back.

But not tonight, Dick decided, not when his little wing had finally returned home and was again in his arms.

Changing his grip again, he pushed Jason on his back on the bed and climbed on top of him trapping him with his body and not letting him go anywhere. He kissed his brow one last time, a hand still holding his neck reassuringly, another drawing little patterns over his shoulder, and their bodies glued together. He could feel Jason’s desire under him, he knew Jason could feel his, but none of them acted on it, tonight was different, tonight they would just fall asleep together as they had done so many years ago.

[sems-diarie]

Getting tag teamed by Shigaraki and Dabi, Dabi holding your legs open for Shigaraki to eat you out, desperate and messy moaning almost louder than you. You taste so good, he’s never leaving and Dabi’s holding you tight to make sure you can’t escape, rasping filthy words in your ear, and when you’re finally too weak to run anymore he reaches a hand down to give your wrecked pussy some smacks whenever Shiggy comes up for air, laughing at the way your body jolts each time, ugh they’re the worst.

they r sick n twisted in having their way w you. dabi holding you still, pinching your nipples between his scarred fingers because his dick leaks when you cry his name. so unsuspecting—what, you didn’t think they’d take advantage of you?

“we’re com-comrades,” you squeak, eyes wet and throat raw. “don’t you wanna help me? dabi? sh-shigaraki? tomura, please.”

ahh but don’t you know that just makes ‘em harder? asking them to ease up—they can’t help but sink their teeth into you all over. maybe then you’ll get the message.

it’s so embarrassing because they have no sense of boundaries. your pussy is on their time. and eventually your body just adjusts, and your pussy leaks anytime they get that sharp pinch in their brow.

[sforzesco]

some "new" designs for different crassus and pompey, specifically for a side project I've been playing with that's so removed from anything relevant (action/adventure/horror standalone story lmao) that they kind of needed their own thing. this story's pompey has a neck scar from an Incident™, crassus has shorter hair and wears (checks notes) jewelry sometimes.

[midnightsky-1]

Choke on it

|| Francis Mosses (milkman) x reader ||

|| WARNING - choking, gagging, slight breath play / deprivation, fingering, smut without plot, Dom! Francis Mosses, Sub! Reader ||

You looked up at Francis through teary eyes as he slammed down your throat.

“Fuck yes, baby you’re doing so good.” Francis groaned and you hummed around his cock.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as he slammed down your throat once again now hitting the back of it causing you to gag and tears to fall down your face.

Francis looked down at you with a smirk, he loved how well you took his cock down your throat. It was his favorite release.

He gripped your hair a bit tighter as he forced his length all the way down your throat and held you there, your nose pressing against his shaft.

You shook your head and tried pulling back to no avail.

He knew you loved the cruel behavior that he was giving you and you knew it too by the way you were drenched between your legs.

You fought against him for air and he grinned watching the way your eyes were starting to droop before he finally pulled out of your mouth with a pop causing you to gasp for air.

Breathing in air had never felt better as you stared up at Francis through your thick lashes.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded kissing his tip.

“Fuck baby.” He groaned looking down at you through his tired eyes.

“You didn’t cum yet.” You said hoarsely through your sore throat as you looked up at him expectantly.

“Baby you’re going to be the death of me.” He groaned and you smiled as you gently led his hands to the back of your head once again waiting for him to take the bait again and he did slamming down your throat hard causing you to choke around him, your eyes filling with tears.

He slammed himself down your throat.

“Fuck baby.” He whined.

“Going to cum, going to fill those pretty lips up.” He whined again causing you to moan eagerly around his cock as your hands trailed down to your dripping wet pussy.

You circled it before adding a digit and then another as he fucked your throat.

“Fuck baby, you look so good like this.” He groaned as his hips jerked and stuttered and you knew he was close.

Your swirled your tounge around his shaft sucking him harder and he groaned.

You fingered yourself faster feeling your climax approaching as well as his as his cock pulsed in your moan.

He cried out.

“Please let me fill up this pretty little mouth, want to so bad, you’d look so pretty with my cum in your mouth.” He whined pleadingly before slamming himself fully down your throat causing you to choke and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Open your fucking eyes.” He growled shoving your head impossibly deeper as you looked up at him rubbing and fingering yourself faster and soon he came and so did you in sync, both of you crying out loud except yours was muffled by his thick cock in your mouth.

When he popped his cock out of your mouth, he looked down at you expectantly and you swallowed and stuck your tongue out showing him.

He smirked in satisfaction.

“Good girl.” He mumbled before reaching gently for the hand you got yourself out and sucking your juices off your fingers, groaning.

“Now it’s time to return the favor, yeah?” He muttered in your ear with a grin.

[mer-acle]

Athena looked at him, shock in her expression. Zeus looked at her cooly. "I am not my wife," he said. "I will not coddle you. I don't intend to be cruel, but I will not go soft on you, do you understand me, daughter?" The last word sounded vaguely mocking. Athena blinked a few times, then straightened, ignoring the sting on her cheek. "I am not expecting that of you, father." He nodded. "Good. I have a feeling you will do quite nicely on Olympus, don't disappoint me." Athena put a hand to her chest and bowed low.

[ijustthinkhesneat]

What the boys and Cass call Bruce (when they wanna call him dad):

Dick: Tati, Dad

Jason: Old Man, Pops

Tim: Daddy (unironically a daddy’s boy)

Damian: Baba, Father (When in public)

Duke: Dad, Papa

Cass: Bat-Dad, Dad-Dad (Capes vs. no capes)

Bonus:

Bruce: Dad (Alfred), Papa (Thomas), Daddy (Clark).