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#Danny doesn’t correct him
tanglepelt · 1 year
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Dc x dp idea 15
I love some good insane Fenton parents fics. Especially when they mistake hero’s for ghost. I
It’s typically one of the bats. But thinking about it. I feel like one of the supers are a better choice. They fly and shoot lasers.
So fentons move to metropolis to hunt down Superman. As much as i love kyrptonite rock candy it would also have to effect ghost in this. Maybe it’s solidified ectoplasm and is trying to steal the ectoplasma from ghost or something.
Danny avoids going home at all cost. He’s out at library’s and seems to attract trouble of the new  enemies (Danny’s rouges). More reason the Fenton parents think Superman is a ghost.
They new weapons the Fentons make include shooting shards of the kryptonite to handicap the ghost.
Through some means they catch Superman. Danny is just horrified.
Since he is half human i don’t feel it would effect him to awful human. Enough he doesn’t want to go home but not enough he can’t move unless he’s using any abilities.
Danny gets him out parents are investigated. Everyone thinks Danny was experimented on by his parents with alien dna.
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deadsetobsessions · 27 days
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4]
“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
“Batman. What can I do for you?”
“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”
“Pardon?”
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.
“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”
“No…? Why?”
“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.
“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”
“Hn.”
“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”
“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”
“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”
“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”
“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”
“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
“Totally. Yup.”
“…Fine.”
“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”
“Yes.”
——
“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…
Ah!
“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
“Anyways, fork over my payment.”
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.
“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”
“I don’t litter.”
“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”
“An alive friend?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”
Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.
——
“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”
“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!
Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.
Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 
The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 
But this time, the summoning feels different.
Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.
“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 
“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”
Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.
“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”
“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.
“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”
“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 
For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.
“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 
“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 
The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.
“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”
The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.
The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 
His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”
And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”
The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 
Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”
The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”
“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”
Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.
A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”
“Hold up that book for me, please?”
She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.
“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.
“Is there a problem, Great One?”
Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.
“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”
“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.
“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”
Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.
Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.
“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”
Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”
“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 
“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”
“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”
“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.
He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”
“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”
“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.
“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.
“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”
Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”
“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”
“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”
“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”
“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”
The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”
“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”
She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”
“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.
Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”
“But you accepted.”
“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 
It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.
“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 
He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.
He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.
Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.
Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 
“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”
“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”
“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”
Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”
“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.
Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.
They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 
Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.
“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.
It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.
Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”
Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”
“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”
“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”
Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”
He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—
“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”
Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”
They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.
“...Put it off until tomorrow?”
Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”
“Sounds perfect.”
. . .
[send me a ghostlights prompt!]
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noisilyscreechingsong · 6 months
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Danny ran away.
The classic reveal didn’t go right/ the GIW is hunting to him/ everyone is dead. You pick.
He’s alone. In Gotham. With nothing.
Staying in the city makes sense, right? Except for the crazy rogues he doesn’t want to get involved in or the straight up normal humans dressing up to fight them. Danny wasn’t touching that with a 10 foot pole. So he travelled further to the outskirts where he hoped to find a cabin some rich family only stays in for the summer.
Instead he finds rich mansions hidden back in the trees with big tall gates keeping everyone out. Most had people living there (he checked), all except for this one.
He’s only seen a kid, maybe ten, go in and out for school and sneaking out late at night.
Danny thinks he’s smart, sneaking in to snag some food and rest a bit when he knows the kid is gone. He doesn’t account for if the boy comes back earlier than normal.
Wide, surprised eyes meet wide, panicked eyes. Danny doesn’t even shove the next bite of Mac and Cheese in his mouth before he’s booking it to the nearest window.
“Wait!” Danny doesn’t wait. “You don’t have to go!”
Danny slows to a stop. Um, what?
He turns to give the boy a look but he doesn’t cringe back. The kid steps forward, almost impulsively.
“You’re the one who’s been stealing food and sleeping in the guest bedroom in the west wing, right?”
How the heck did he know where Danny was taking a nap? He always made sure to fix the bed when he left.
The boy continues without any answer.
“You don’t have to keep hiding. You can stay. I’ll provide you food and clothes and you can pick whatever room you want to stay in.”
Danny doesn’t know what’s gotten into the kid, but he suddenly feels flat footed and so off balanced.
“Why?” He asks incredulously. Why do all that for him? Why trust a strange teenager in his home? Why bother with him? He’s obviously homeless and has been stealing from him.
The boy’s lips thin slightly like he doesn’t want to say. Like he’s embarrassed.
Instead he says, “You had dozens of chances to steal any of the priceless artifacts in this house, but instead you only steal enough food for yourself and to rest.”
Okay. Yea, that was technically true and he could see the boy is thinking he figured out Danny’s personality by just that (it reminds him of Jazz how confident the kid is), but that doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy!
He goes to tell the kid off for thinking he knows anything about some random teen that keeps breaking into his house, but then notices the way the boy is holding himself.
“You’re hurt.”
The boy jolts like he wasn’t expecting Danny to notice at all. He looks down and adjusts his weight a bit.
“Uh…”
“Did you twist your ankle?” Danny guesses.
The boy mutely nods, looking at him with wide eyes with too much emotion to decipher.
“Well come sit down, don’t keep standing on it, dummy.”
The boy quickly makes his way over to sit delicately on the edge of the couch cushion. Danny goes to the freezer where he knows he saw an ice pack once when he was going through it.
Danny helps the kid turn and lay back until he can elevate the foot under a pillow and set the cold ice pack over the sock. The boy is still staring at him with those wide, intense eyes.
“Ice it for a while and after you take a shower I’ll wrap it for you. Where’s your first aid kit?”
“The first floor bathroom.”
“Which one? You have three.”
“Four actually. You missed the one in the laundry room.”
Danny gives him a look.
“Kid.”
“Tim,” the boy corrects happily. “My name is Tim. Timothy Drake.”
Danny just looks back for a few moments at what is undoubtedly a flicker of hope in those blue eyes. He sighs.
“I’m Danny.”
And a weird friendship was born. Or more of a sibling-ship? Brotherhood? They teeter over the line of friend and family daily.
Danny did stay and Tim was thrilled to have someone else in the house, someone that wasn’t cold or professional towards him. They played games together and joked and taught each other things.
Danny was good at fixing anything that was broken and was the one to do any errands while Tim was at school. He was also the one who had to teach Tim how to be a brother.
Tim on the other hand seemed to be good at everything but letting himself relax. He was a hyper and intelligent kid whose mind was always active, so Danny had to accommodate and come up with crazy games and tasks for the boy in the disguise of requests, but he also made the boy sit down with him to watch crappy movies and just relax together.
They had fun, but they also had bumps and misunderstands. Danny nearly blew his top when Tim snuck out to spy on Batman and Robin without telling him (and wasn’t that a conversation to remember when the Danny found out what he was really doing at night). And Tim had a problem with lying to try and make Danny not worry, which ended up doing the opposite.
They got through those hiccups together though because they were both too possessive to let the other go that easily.
Tim created a fake identity for Danny saying they were cousins. The same black hair and blue eyes kinda sold it with a backstory of Danny’s mother being disowned by Janet’s parents. Jack and Janet weren’t home enough (or invested enough) to confirm or deny.
It was funny though watching Tim stare after Jason Todd-Wayne longingly for a while, but enough was enough. If Tim secretly wanted to befriend his idol, then Danny would make it happen. And he did of course. He made friends with the butler after ‘losing’ a frisbee in their yard and asked if they could get together for dinner one night so Tim and Jason could hang out outside of school. Alfred obviously knew Danny was pushing for Tim’s sake, but he still agreed easily enough.
So became a normal for the Wayne’s and the Drake’s to eat dinner together at least once a month. And after many meetings Danny mentally checked them off as ‘okay enough for vigilantes’ and stayed behind while the two younger boys ran off to go play a game before they headed home next door.
“Mr. Wayne?”
“Come now, you know you can call me Bruce, Danny,” the man smiles. It’s a little too wide, but Danny understands he’s still trying to put on the Brucie mask. He really wish he wouldn’t.
“Right, Bruce.” He fidgets for a second with his hoodie strings and he can feel Bruce’s attention zero in on the motion. “I need to ask you a favor.”
The air turns tense with the silence after that.
“What’s wrong, Danny? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine! Promise. I just- I just need you to promise me something. Please.”
Danny felt so awkward. He has never relied on an adult before, always doing everything himself or with other kids, something Tim and him have in common. So to turn to Bruce Wayne was out of character, but he wasn’t really. He was asking Batman, and him Danny could trust a little more.
“Promise you what?”
Danny could hear the barely covered suspicion in his voice.
“If- If something happens and I’m not around anymore, I need you to take Tim in,” he states, looking at the man full on to show how serious a matter this was.
The man stares back equally serious.
“What would happen to you? Are you in some kind of trouble?” Bruce asks.
Danny shakes his head hard.
“I’m not into drugs, Bruce. Or a gang or gambling or anything like that okay? I don’t owe any debt someone’s coming after me for. I just need insurance, some piece of mind that if something did happen that meant I couldn’t take care of Tim, there would be someone to look after him.”
Bruce stares back, thinking, for several moments.
“Tim has parents, Danny, I don’t know what you expect me to do. And what do you mean you take care of him? Don’t you boys have a caretaker?”
“Of course we don’t. We look after each other, but I’m the oldest. His parents are never home. I’m not exaggerating, they were in Gotham for only fifty-four days last year. They missed Tim’s birthday, holidays, everything. He’s still a kid, he needs someone to be there for him and if I’m suddenly gone then he has no one. Promise me that won’t happen. Promise me you’ll take him in, that you’ll figure out a way to keep him with you so he at least has Jason and you and Alfred.”
Bruce is silent for a while and Danny knows what he’s struggling with. He didn’t really want to use his trump card, but desperate measures.
“We already know who you are. You don’t have to worry about him finding out your secret.”
All traces of the Brucie mask drops at that confession and Batman analyzes him.
“How?”
“Tim is a really smart kid,” he just says with a fond smile. “He’s known for a while too, so you know he won’t go blabbing to the media or whatever.”
“What about you?”
“If I wanted to blackmail you, don’t you think I would have led with that? I don’t care what you do in your free time, but it’s not my business to tell.”
Danny shrugs and tries not to squirm under being scrutinized.
“Since you know who I am, if you are in trouble or ever need help, you can come to me.”
Danny blinks.
“Yea, that’s what I’m doing. So do you promise?”
Bruce nods once, very controlled.
“Yes. I promise you that I will take care of Tim Drake if anything happens to you,” the man vows solemnly.
Danny smiles back, shoulders sagging in relief.
“Thank you.”
When Danny somehow saves Jason from dying, and two months later goes missing, Bruce has to honor that promise while also tracking down the teenager to bring home to a very distraught Tim.
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greenglowinspooks · 5 months
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)
Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)
(Masterlist here)
Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.
Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.
And so, that led Dr. Crane here.
He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.
(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)
Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.
Danny needed ectoplasm.
Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.
The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.
Dr. Crane is not afraid.
He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.
(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)
Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.
(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)
He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.
The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.
As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.
He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.
Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.
He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.
Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.
Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.
Right.
Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.
Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.
The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.
Hopefully this time he got the timing right.
Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.
He thinks of the letter.
Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.
Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.
Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.
Scarecrow did what he had to.
He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.
However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.
Jonathan is no longer shaking.
He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.
With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.
Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.
When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.
Success.
Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.
And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.
At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.
Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.
He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.
“Is that..?”
“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”
Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.
Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.
Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?
And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.
“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”
“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?
The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.
Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.
Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.
Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.
He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.
It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.
And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.
“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”
Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.
Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.
“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”
Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.
“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.
“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”
“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”
Edward gasps dramatically.
“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”
“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”
“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”
“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”
Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.
“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”
“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”
“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”
Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.
“Eddie.”
Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.
“A heart!”
“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”
“Eddie, stop.”
“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”
“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.
“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”
“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”
“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”
“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.
Danny’s jaw drops.
“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.
“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”
“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”
Danny chokes on air.
“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”
Edward pales.
“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.
“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”
With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.
And, as per usual, that silence does not last.
“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”
Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.
“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”
“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”
Jonathan groans.
“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”
“Come on, please?”
“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.
This boy is going to be the death of him.
“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”
Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.
The rest of the day is relatively normal.
Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.
It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.
Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.
Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.
The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.
He sends a quick message to Red Hood.
Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.
1K notes · View notes
holllandtrash · 9 months
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fragile line | daniel ricciardo
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader
You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break
what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster
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“What do you know?”
“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information. 
His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt. 
“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try. 
“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”
“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.
You. 
“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”
“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”
Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was. 
“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”
Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did. 
You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better. 
Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point. 
You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues. 
Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated. 
Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word. 
The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco. 
Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend. 
“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”
You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you. 
It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you. 
“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there. 
You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”
“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”
You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”
“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”
You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you. 
But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.
So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager. 
He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever. 
He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.
He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.
It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen. 
He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers. 
“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”
Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck. 
But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.
Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about. 
“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.” 
“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could. 
“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?” 
You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained. 
It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time. 
“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.
“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.
“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”
That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.  
Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time. 
People speculated, of course. Questions were asked. 
Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?
You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes. 
Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you. 
People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking? 
But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic. 
At least, you thought you didn’t. 
Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen. 
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”
“Are any crashes pretty?”
He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair. 
He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.” 
The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing. 
“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”
“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.” 
You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.” 
“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”
And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while. 
Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment. 
He wasn’t going to let it escape him. 
“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you. 
You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere. 
And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend. 
You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could. 
Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”
There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips. 
You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words. 
You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth. 
His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him. 
When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.
“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications. 
But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.
“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”
That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.
Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before. 
It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.
When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.
He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain. 
But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear. 
He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat. 
He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.
“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”
It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night. 
Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team. 
Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time. 
People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful. 
You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed. 
Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too. 
It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between. 
When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride. 
It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car. 
Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.
You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you. 
When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage. 
At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.
You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you. 
But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story. 
“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday. 
You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. 
“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”
“I’m not Australian.”
“You’re dating one, sweets.”
You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered. 
“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out. 
“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner. 
You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point  and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts. 
“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea. 
Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”
He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel. 
You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry. 
The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.
Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on? 
You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.
But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.
Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1. 
It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different. 
Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race. 
And somehow, you won. 
After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe. 
You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red. 
Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you. 
Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team. 
He was so proud of you. 
Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else. 
You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching. 
It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that. 
He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining. 
Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name. 
Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love. 
And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it. 
After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love. 
You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence. 
But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions. 
“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?” 
You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.
“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face. 
Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently. 
“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”
“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”
“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”
“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.
The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation. 
You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.
Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season. 
He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it. 
Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren. 
But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.
“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”
It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.
Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel. 
“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023. 
“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”
You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”
“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”
It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early. 
It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.
And who were you to turn that down?
A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.
You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”
“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked. 
Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.
But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”
And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders. 
You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different. 
You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break. 
Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily. 
The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.
The 2023 seat was yours. 
You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?
It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news. 
But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.
You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?
Right?
You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.
You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.
Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.
Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.
Usually, he was happy to see you.
You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.
“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest. 
Your heart sank. 
You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.
“What do you know?” you asked. 
“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.
You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.
“What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”
“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”
“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”
Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”
“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”
He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.
“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”
It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.
But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.
Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.
“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”
You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.
“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”
“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”
“I think you should go,” was his only response. 
“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”
Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Dan-”
“Leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done. 
You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work. 
“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life. 
Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?
You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other. 
Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”
You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?
Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?
It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”
He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.
Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.
Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you. 
“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”
You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three. 
You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.
Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.
You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career. 
This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel. 
part 2 haunted
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help-itrappedmyself · 28 days
Text
Summoning Game Show Part 6
Masterpost
“You had me going for a bit there, but that was pretty good.” Danny admits, clearing the screen away. “How come you know so much about space?”
“Learned some of it in school.” Red replies, hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I do some work in the sciences now, engineering, and I’ve actually had to go to space a few times for the gig.” The hand lowers as he shrugs. “ Plus, I just like to know things.”
Danny has stars in his eyes now. “You’ve been to space?”
“Oh. Well yeah, I’ve had a few missions. Miss Martian has a ship that the team took.”
Danny’s expression light up even more and Red looks back at his brothers in confusion. “You know a Martian?” It was whispered in awe, Red could barely hear it, but he nods in response. 
They stand there for a minute, Danny just staring at Red in some mix of amazement and awe before he shakes himself out of it. 
“Right! Well, that’s awesome.” Danny nods to himself and then forcibly turns to face the screen and changes the subject. “Last thing then! You get a letter for the puzzle!” 
The puzzle appeared on the screen again with a wave of Danny’s hand.
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“ I would like H, please.” Red Robin states.
“What a fantastic guess, there are three H’s!” Danny is trying to resign himself to the fact that he’ll actually have to deal with being King after this. Red was super smart, he doesn’t think he’s going to get out of it at this point.
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“Alright, that’s all the letters you will be getting. Before you take a guess at the answer, I am required to tell you that it is a Proper Noun. Please decide who among you will be solving the puzzle.
Red turns to face his brothers but they all just wave him off, motioning for him to go for it. “That’s me, I guess.” He shrugs, turning back to Danny.
Danny nods “Okay, all you have to do in order to meet the Ghost King is solve two puzzles! First the word puzzle, you have 30 seconds.”
A timer starts counting down on the top left of the screen. 
Red mouths words to himself for 10 seconds, then asks, “High King Phantom?” 
More confetti appears on the screen as the solved puzzle appears.
Danny makes a weird face. “That’s correct!” 
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There is a lot of clapping and laughing coming from the ghosts in the stands, but it stops when Danny shoots them a glare.
“Alright, last thing.” The podiums disappear and Red steps back towards his family. “The king has been here the whole time, and you will get your meeting with him, as soon as you identify him. You have one guess.” 
Hood, Robin, and Nightwing all turn to each other to start whispering, but Red just tilts his head at Danny.
“Well, It’s you isn’t it?” Red asks and his brothers all turn back to stare at him. Danny tilts his head in response. “Well you were the first one here, so you’re the only one that’s been here the entire time. And you’ve been running the show, everyone has listened to you. Also, your shirt has a P on it, inside the D, but I figure that if the D stands for Danny, then the P would have to be Phantom.” 
Danny just leans back and groans.
When Danny straightens back as his outfit starts to change, he gains a crown and a cape, his ears turn more pointed and he has fangs now. “So what did you want with me? Is it healthcare? Because we do have a doctor that Hood could see.”
“A doctor?” Hood questions.
“Oh geez you don’t even know do you?” Danny starts rubbing his forehead. “Well, you’ve got to get that taken care of, it’s stunting your core development.”
“ Get what taken care of?”
Danny sputters. “The ectoplasm?!” He waves his arms in Hood’s direction. “It's so old and stagnant and worn out and your core isn’t old enough to make its own ectoplasm yet, so you should really supplement until your core finishes.”
Danny can see that none of them know what he’s talking about and he just shakes his head. “I can’t believe you don’t even know. Haven’t there been mood changes, random bursts of emotions, followed by sluggishness? Aren’t you tired?” 
Now everyone is looking at Hood who grumbles. “Well, yeah. But that’s been happening since I died.”
Danny nods as if that makes perfect sense and Dick really would like an explanation. Red and Robin are also just nodding, having noticed the mood swings themselves.
“Relatable, but condolences. Anyways, we could help with that, but I take it that wasn’t why you tried to summon me, so what did you actually want?”
“Nothing that is more important than Hood’s health, if you can help him.” Nightwing interjects.
“Oh. Well, technically you won, so you have the right to an audience to at least ask for whatever else you wanted.” Danny turns and waves in the direction of the stand, motioning someone down. “But If Hood would like to forfeit his right to the audience, he could have a checkup with Frostbite while we meet?”
Hood nods. “I’ll do that. This… Frostbite will be able to explain?” 
“Probably better than I could!” Danny says cheerily as he turns to the Yeti heading towards them. “Frostbite, Hood here needs a checkup, if you could help him correct the malnutrition so his core can grow.” 
Frostbite nods, “You can come with me, Sir.” 
“Bring him back here when you guys are done!” Danny shouts after them as Frostbite leads Hood away. “Now, you guys can come follow me and we’ll sit and talk.”
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omnicrafts · 8 months
Text
Y’all wanna get more chaotic with dpxdc batfam nonsense, instead of Danny knowing Alfred through his OWN time travel nonsense consider this;
Danny ends up at Wayne Manor for whatever plot reason and freeze frames seeing Alfred. Alfred raises one curious eyebrow and Danny blurts out with delight and bafflement,
“Hobson?!”
The batfam are now baffled, Danny’s practically vibrating in place, and Alfred just sighs in his fond way.
“It is good to see you well Master Daniel.” And then he’s got an armful of purring ghostboy.
Canonically Tim and Alfred play video Games together
Danny: You are going down dude. Come on, put up a fight. Ugh, I win. Again. Hobson, you stink at this game
Hobson: Beg pardon, Master Daniel. There was precious little gaming while I was a youth during the Blitz.
I’m pretty convinced Hobson knew about Danny being Phantom, given he easily and realistically could have overheard the trio’s argument over the giw and the robobuddies.
But also the exchange where he gives Danny advice that spurs him on to get involved?
Hobson: Care for a shake?
Danny: No thanks, Hobson. No appetite.
Hobson: Forgive me, Master Daniel. You seem a tad…bummed. Did your milkshake straw become clogged?
Danny: I'm just going through some stuff.
Hobson: Perhaps a rousing game of Caveman Car Thief would quicken the pulse.
Danny: I've played my games, bought tons of extra junk, counted my money. Again. It's just not…satisfying.
Hobson: Dare I say perhaps there is more to life than wealth. And what do you suppose your purpose might be Master Daniel.
Danny: Huh. Lately, um, being a rich jerk.
Hobson: Does that feel like the real you?
Danny: Not exactly.
Hobson: It seems to me your friends Tucker and Sam know the real you.
Danny: You think?
Hobson: Certainly more than those two automatons in your room. A good friend is like a good butler. Indispensible and loyal for life.
Danny: Thanks Hobson. Um, there's something the real me needs to help out with. Later. (Runs back and downs milkshake) Suddenly got my appetite back.
Hobson: Way to get your butler in gear sir.
Alfred is the only one who can call him Daniel and he doesn’t flinch or glower about it.
I’m losing it over Danny calling him Hobs casually and not getting corrected. (But only Danny; Alfred just looks at anyone else and raises an eyebrow) The first time someone without context hears it they’re kind of offended???
“Uh his names Alfred.”
“Yeah?? I mean we talked about it and he thinks it’s funny so…”
Alfred’s Alfred/Butler powers sensing when Danny’s mood drops and just arrives with some odd looking milkshake and Danny stammering about him not having to make him milkshakes anymore
“I’m poor again remember?”
“It truly is no hardship Master Daniel. Consider it On The House.” With a wink and little smile. Danny is delighted and it’s an adorable scene until someone asks it try it and it’s bacon and cheese puffs.
Tim: We have cheese puffs???
That absolute fucking Chaos that would be unleashed when Danny asks Alfred for some wild ass Milkshake combo like fucking chili pepper and oranger or some other wild ass combo and Alfred just Makes It. Danny so fucking delighted about it.
Bonus points if Alfred thought he had straight up been sent to a different world completely and so hadn’t thought anything of it until Daniel Fenton appears in front of him again.
I think Alfred should be allowed his own crazy adventures. As a treat.
I like to think that in this case Alfred was disguised as an older dude and now he actually IS an older dude.
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millylotus · 8 months
Text
Secret Son John Constantine
Inspired by @herbatahleb's funny little fanart
As the title says The Everlasting Trio have a child and his name is John “Hellblazer” Constantine
He’s making his parents proud
John was born of a kind of soul blood pact between the three, he got his blonde hair from Sam, his eyes from Tucker, and his overall appearance is a mix of the three of them
John grew up to follow in Tucker & Sam’s footsteps of magic, he’s a born sorcerer unlike them though
His relationship with his parents is generally good, but because of how he treats his soul his relationship with Danny has deteriorated
They argue about this alot, John’s soul is his own and what he does with it really isn’t any of Danny’s business, Danny has the concerned parent vibes of the parent of a sex worker, their fears are founded but they need to trust their kid to know how to take care of themselves
John hates visiting home because of it, Dani will sometimes drag him back home for holidays but he doesn’t stay long
Sam & Tucker try to get them to get along but it isn’t really working
Then one day Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League
---
John doesn’t recognize the summoning circle as it buzzes to life, he doesn’t know what type of creature or being will pop out. If they’re good or bad, or even merciful but he knows they’re strong from the intricate design or the circle. So he recklessly jumps forward, pushing Hal out of the binding circle so the Lantern isn’t bound to the summoned being.
John takes the binding with a scream of pain, feeling electricity shoot up his spine.
He can hear the Leaguers shouting his name, he’s vaguely aware of Jordan supporting him. But what he hears clearest was the voice of a man he most despised in the world at the moment.
“Really John? You didn’t have to do that, he would have been fine.”
John closes his eyes tight and breaths deep, he looks up to the voice and looks into the toxic green eyes as they met his own brown ones.
“Good to see you too Father.”
The green eyed being rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yes, hello Son. It’s great to see you again as well.”
The League had only heard a few things about John Constantine’s family. They knew he had three parents who’re polyamouros, that he has an older sister and an aunt. Besides that all they have are silent grumblings about “Father won’t like this” when he does something risky.
But to see a young filipino man probably no older than twenty, floating over John “Hellblazer” Constantine and looking down on him like a disappointed parent. It was jarring.
Wonder Woman was the first to say anything “John, could you perhaps explain what just happened?”
John and his father broke their intense eye contact to look at Diana, who barely flinched at the sudden attention, the others behind her weren’t so fearless.
Constantine sighed carefully stepping away from Hal, “This is my Father.”
Hal snorted, “Yeah we got that man.”
“Yes John, introduce me to your friends here.”
---
Danny is generally snarky when meeting the League, he makes some weird comments about John hanging out with superheroes, that could be construed as rude
The others are kinda pestering John about who his dad even is, while John is more focused on getting the fucking bind removed
He eventually has to ask Zatanna for help
Danny for the most part is hanging out with the League while John’s working
Someone calls him Mr.Constantine and Danny quickly corrects them saying that isn’t his last name
Which sparks a whole conversation of John’s last name, which Danny isn’t about to say cause real names have power and such
Danny sees John working closely with Zatanna and asks if he’s with her or not, John is beyond embarrassed and even worse is when Danny brings up King Shark, mentioning that Dani really liked him too
John snarks back that then King Shark should have just gone for her instead of him since Danny was so adamant about King Shark being such a great son-in-law
Things get awkward quick as the two snark back at each other while everyone else realizes where John gets it from
It almost becomes a screaming match before the League has to break it up before they go to far
John ends up just calling Sam & Tucker so they can just break the binding
It’s a tense few minutes before they get there, and the League just kinda has to sit there as father & son fume not looking at each other
When Tucker & Sam get there they see the two not wanting to talk to each other at all
Leaguers are not reeling at seeing John’s other parents who he also vaguely looks like but also not
As the two work on the binding John & Danny are being passive aggressive
The two decide that John & Danny need to spend some time together to get this shit figured out
---
Sam : Alright that’s it *Sam & Tucker stop working, Sam has her head in her hands and Tucker is leaning far back* Danny : What? John : I’m sorry? Tucker : You two have been fighting for far to long, you’ve probably forgotten why Danny : I know exactly why, it’s because John doesn’t know how to treat his soul right! John : By The Ancients! You’re still on about that Danny : Of course! Sam : Will you both just SHUT UP! *Silence* Sam : We’re not breaking the binding, you two are going to stay stuck together Danny : Sammy! John : Mama, Papa. Please don’t do this! Tucker : Nuh-uh, this happening, you two are getting a some father-son bonding time for the week! John *distressed*: Why! You can’t just– it’s not fair! *Sam & Tucker loosen up a bit, looking to John softly* Sam : Baby it’s alright, we’re not trying to punish you we just want you & your father to actually talk things through Danny : It feels like your punishing me Tucker : You are his father, you will be the civil one in this so don’t you fucking dare get any lip *Danny goes silent* Sam *sigh* : We’ll be leaving now Tucker : Good look you two The two leave, then silence Danny : Do you still have that demon house of yours? John *sigh* : Yeah I’ll show you a room for your stay
---
Most of the story is really just about John & Danny learning to get along again
Danny has to finally trust his kid to know what he’s doing with his own body
And John realising that his dad just wants to keep him safe & stuff
By the end of their basically grounding the two have begun to mend their relationship, Danny promises to come over and visit along with inviting John back home to the zone when he feels like
I've been meaning to post this for awhile now & it's just been sitting in my drafts until I finally remembered it.
Hope you liked is! :]
Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]
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theemporium · 7 months
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What about Max maxplaining Trouble? Like not to Trouble, but about Trouble to someone. He’s just gushing about her or maybe he’s telling someone that no they can’t do “x” b/c that’s not the way Trouble prefers it done. And everyone is just so confused about why Max knows something so random about Trouble.
kinda made this into a wee sick fic but enjoy! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“Max, I’m fine.” 
“No, you’re not.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Sorry for taking your health seriously. Now, give Danny the phone.”
If someone told you that Max Verstappen was an overbearing mother hen before you met him, you would have laughed in their face. You had heard many things about him, and that certainly wasn’t one you would have believed. Even in the early stages of your friendship, you would have never really pegged him as the type. He was caring, yes. 
But this? This was a whole new level.
You were sick. Nothing crazy or insane, just a simple flu that left you feeling a bit under the weather and longing for your bed. But apparently to Max, it was equivalent to you being on your deathbed. 
Unfortunately for him, he had to fly out to England for a few meetings at the factory that required his presence. He tried arguing Christian over the phone about it, but ultimately lost that battle and was forced to take his private jet out.
You made the mistake in thinking that you would be able to get a few days of quiet rest to recover. Because only mother hen Max Verstappen would send someone to do exactly what he would do if he was able to stay by your side.
“Did you get her a blanket?”
Daniel tried to suppress his laughter and remain serious as he held your phone in his hand, watching Max on the screen scrutinising every little detail about your setup in your bed.
“Yes, I—”
“You got the wrong blanket,” Max stated bluntly.
You sighed. “Max, it’s fine—”
“Stop saying that, schatz, when it’s not,” Max retorted before his focus returned to the Aussie. “She likes the cream one in the hallway cupboard. Should be on the third shelf.”
Daniel nodded. “Right, got it.” 
“Did you get her medicine?”
“Oh yeah,” Daniel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I got her some cough syrup from the pharmacy down the—”
“Which flavour?”
“Cherry,” Daniel said.
Max scoffed. “Mate, she hates cherry. You need to get the orange flavoured one.”
“Max,” you groaned as you nuzzled yourself further into the endless amount of pillows your boyfriend had made Daniel surround you in. “Cherry is fine. I just have to take a spoonful once a day, or whatever it is.”
“Three times a day,” Max said, his brows furrowed together. “And you hate artificial cherry flavouring. You said it makes you want to throw up.”
Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 
“I’ll get her the orange flavoured one,” Daniel said with a laugh, finding it adorable how caring Max was. “Anything else, helicopter boyfriend?”
“I don’t know what that means,” Max grumbled. “But yes. I have left menus on the kitchen counter, I’ll send you what she likes and what she wants to get but always refuses until it’s in front of her. Also, there should be a list of movies I sent you that are her comfort movies that you can—”
“This is creepy, Verstappen, it’s like you’re my stalker or something,” you muttered, even if your heart was swooning at the small details he remembered about you.
“Lil’ Maxie just loves his Trouble,” Daniel grinned wildly. “He doesn’t shut up about you. He could probably go on for hours if we let him.”
“More like days,” Max corrected before he continued to explain everything you would need to his friend, whilst you laid there with a fond smile on your face.
.
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paddockbunny · 9 months
Note
list a, #230 and maybe Danny
Full House
Summary : Daniel had only been home a matter of days and yet not one of them had the pair of you been alone. When you finally snap, what happens when you finally get it off your chest that it’s been bothering you. Rating : 18+ Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader Word Count : 2,768 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, PinV sex, unprotected sex, graphic descriptions, semi public (? dont know if this really is semi public but people can overhear). Images : curated from Pintrest
List : List A Prompt : Are you sure? Once I start I don't think I'm able to stop”
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The house was full. Again.
The sound of mixing male voices all winding around one another's with intermittent laughter met your ears as soon as you opened the door to the LA home you shared with your boyfriend, Daniel. Your shoulders dropped and a sigh left your lips while your head rolled backwards. It was day nine. Day nine since he had been home and the ninth day he had had his friends over. In nine days the only time you had gotten your boyfriend to yourself was at night when he saddled up behind you in bed - or when he was horny and wanted to fuck - and the hour or so in the morning before his pals started showing up at the door like children asking if he could go out to play. And that was what annoyed you most, how Daniel was usually the one throwing out the invites and asking his friends over all the time. You suspected today was no different. As around loud crack of laughter reverberated through the hallway down to where you were you had to push away the intrusive thought that had been swirling for the past three days.
He doesn’t want to spend time with you alone.
At first you thought it was ridiculous to even contemplate that it could be true. But slowly, it played on your mind more and more to the point you started getting a little stressed and anxious about what it would mean if it turned out you were correct and it was true. But as you heard your boyfriends iconic laugh you were jolted right back into the present and your arms suddenly ached with how heavy the bags in them were. Anger suddenly came flooding over you as you realised how you felt like a housewife.
“Daniel! I need some help!” You shouted. No answer “DANIEL!” You shouted louder. But still nothing. You groaned frustratingly before dumping the bags down on the ground. This was just so typical of Daniel. He got so caught up in the moment, the fun he was having, that he zoned out. Another round of laughter hit you and this time it pissed you off.
So at risk of making yourself seem like a “psycho girlfriend” you stomped through. Daniel was in the chair, his legs over the side of it, with a big goofy grin on his face. He looked like he was king holding court and instantly it pissed you off. “Oh, babe, hey….” You glared at him then rolled your eyes and swiftly stomped away upstairs.
You yanked open the drawer and slammed in Daniel’s freshly washed t-shirts. You opened a different drawer and flung in some of your bras and banged it closed. You were taking out your frustration on the inanimate objects around you. Daniel was so blasé downstairs. He was so unconcerned looking that you felt your blood boiling. He didn’t try to explain why you were joined by the boys (yet again) nor did he try to make any forms of apologies for it either. You were so lost in your annoyance that you missed him entering into your shared bedroom until he said your name gently followed by; “Are you mad at me?” Your teeth ground together and you didn’t want to look at him. You contemplated giving him the silent treatment. “Babe, c’mon…” you heard him sighing.
“Yes. I am mad at you, Daniel.” You snapped at him “Since you've been home you’ve been surrounded by people all the time. I’ve not…” you paused, feeling like you were really close to sounding crazy but if you didn’t get it off your chest now then you probably never would “I haven’t spent any time with you, just you, alone.”
Daniel’s blank face either showed he was unbothered by what you were saying or he understood perfectly. It made a heat rise upon your neck that you only got when you were nervous. You swallowed as he stared straight into your soul. “I thought you liked having people over?” His brows knitted in the middle looked totally flummoxed by your omission “I do….” You sighed. “But not all the time Dan.” For a brief moment you felt like you had made a mistake confessing but, no, he had to know why this was a problem.
“Do you not want to be around me? Just me?” It came out more defensive than what you intended but the meaning was still the same. Daniel still had that confused look upon his face. “I just feel like, well, that you’d rather be with the boys than me.”
“What?” Momentarily his bottom lip dropped open in what seemed like shock before it disappeared “I’m sorry.” He apologised instantly. “I genuinely didn’t think. I thought because you loved being hostess you…fuck, oh my God, I feel so selfish. I’m so sorry.” He came rushing toward you. His arms outstretched wanting your body in them. In your mind you believed Daniel wouldn’t have even realised what you were feeling a little off so there was no way he would be doing it deliberately. So what was coming out of his mouth was really just confirming that.
As his arms engulfed you, hugged you with all his might, your worries all but melted away. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple while you breathed in his scent - an act almost like you were grounding yourself - and you felt his grip on your waist tighten. You pressed your cheek to his chest and took note of how your mind eased and calmed.
“I’m going to go kick them out.” He said quietly. You almost missed him saying it because you were lost listening to the gentle, soft thudding of his heart. Tilting your head up you saw him smiling faintly down at you. His words clicked in your brain and you told him he didn’t have to do that. “I do like hosting, Daniel. I just need my Danny time too.” It was only a matter of two or three seconds till his lips hard pressed yours.
At first the kiss simply signalled to you he was listening to what you were saying and he understood you. But as it continued the motivation very distinctly began to change. His hands slid your top up and glided against the skin of your back while yours gripped the front of his hoody tighter. Daniel’s tongue effortlessly skimmed across your lower lip and it was a very obvious signal he wanted you to admit him entrance to your mouth. Which you didn’t need to be asked twice to do. You granted him easy permission. His tongue coasted over yours and you could barely hold back the moan that had built deep inside of you.
“Is this what you meant by “Danny time”?” When you looked at him - with your eyes no doubt filled to the brim with lust - you could tell how cheeky, cocky confidence had exploded in him. “It’s a start.” You replied back. Your voice mirroring the same amount of sass as his had done moments before. His dark eyes that you adored so much turned even darker while he drunk in your features. The spark you had been playing with was igniting to a roaring fire and you had a deep hunger that desperately needed feeding. The intense rising heat that burned inside of you scorched all over your skin as Daniel’s eyes practically screamed out what he was thinking.
Without saying anything your hands went to the hem of his soft self branded white hoody and lifted it. He didn’t resist. Instead he helped remove the item completely and it gave you the briefest of moments to scan down the tanned, taught skin of his abs before glancing even lower to check out the tent pitched inside his matching white sweatpants. Your mouth watered at the sheer thought of him - which only matched how wet your panties had gotten in the few short moments since he initially kissed you. “Let me send them home…” He practically purred against the skin of your collarbone. “No.” Your voice strong and not at all pleading “I’m not waiting for you any longer.” Your head pulled back so he had no choice but to look at you “Fuck me…”
The noise that left Daniel was a loud, very deliberate groan. He loved when you vocalised exactly what you wanted and how you wanted it. Dirty talk was sort of a thing the pair of you had going on and even if you had to blow your own trumpet, you were both VERY good at it. He gripped your waist and turned you so your butt pressed against the dresser. His hand went into your hair and pulled backward so your neck was exposed to him.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his lips hovering above the flesh of your throat “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop.” That’s exactly what you were hoping for. Daniel waited for your vocal response but you didn’t give him one. Instead, your hand immediately went straight to the tight space between your bodies and palmed him through the soft cotton of his sweats. His eyes closed, head rolled back at your touch, his mouth fell open and a dangerously loud groan streamed straight out of it. As his pleasure painted a smirk upon your own lips, it also sent a pulsating ache between your thighs that you desperately needed him to sort.
“Fuck…” He whispered as he looked back at you. Staring at him. Full of sheer desperation. And he couldn’t wait any longer. He hurriedly unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down over your butt and thighs with haste. Taking the thin scrap of black lace you wore as panties along with it. When free he lifted you to sit on the edge of the wooden dresser behind you. Your leg up around his waist, hands trailing up and gripping hold of his wide, strong neck. More swear words poured out of him as his fingers glided over the sensitive delicate flesh between your thighs. “You definitely need more Danny time.” He referenced how the pair of you had found yourself in this position and it made you smile broadly at him. It hadn’t been your plan to storm upstairs and expose what you had been feeling the past few days in the manner you had but, as he pulled down his sweatpants and let his absolutely mesmerising member spring free, you were glad you had.
A lust fuelled, loud moan escaped past your lips without hesitation the moment he pushed inside of you. His lips were swift to swallow the second one that spilled as he pulled back out before sinking in again, this time even deeper. There was no time for warming up - no foreplay was ever needed with him - not with his friends downstairs awaiting his return. That didn’t mean Daniel was going to sacrifice his performance for them. He was going to give it to you exactly how he knew you wanted it. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thigh as he began getting into a steady rhythm. His name stuttered past your swollen lips as your hand reached behind you to stop you from falling into the mirror that sat upon the wall. The sound of the dresser beginning to rock with the movements he was making while he fucked you echoed around the room. You figured his friends would probably be able to hear it downstairs - the master bedroom was right on top of the lounge they were sitting in after-all - and not for one second did you care they were kept waiting. In fact, you moaned louder, just so they knew Daniel had chosen you over them right now.
His hand went to your mouth and a naughty smirk appeared on his mouth. “You want them to hear don’t you?” He twigged and you nodded quickly. He released you just in time. His cock angled differently inside of you and he was now repeatedly hitting the fleshy little bump inside that made you see stars, with every single powerful thrust. “DAN…” Your hand slammed down on the dark wood you were sitting on as your toes curled and teeth gritted. “Kinky.” He purred against your throat when it fell back while you gasped for air. The noise of the wood on the wall increased as he quickened his pace. But as the thought of his friends downstairs evaporated and any remnants of the mini argument that lead to having loud, unexpected sex, fled from your mind, the only thing replacing it was the feeling of your orgasm begin to capture and ravish your body.
As eyes opened and you grabbed hold of Daniel’s shoulder, his eyes locked with his and you could tell he was close. He moaned and asked if you were close but before you even had the chance to answer, your body answered for you. The delicious high exploded inside of you. Your body shook and stuttered as the climax captured every shred of your being and soul and you felt like you were being kissed by fire. Daniel kept his strong, unrelenting rhythm up while you came. He wanted every single last morsel of your high he could produce from you before his own hit him. Which, it didn’t take long for it to do just that. Daniel came just as hard as you had done. He pulled you clean off the drawers and held you to him as he released deep inside of you. His fingertips digging into your flesh so hard you would have deep purple bruises. But you didn’t care. You felt him twitching as his milky seed filled you and you wished you had let him get rid of his friends so the pair of you could immediately go again, you hadn’t had enough of him yet.
High’s were levelling out as Daniel finally pulled himself out of you. He smiled broadly before he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was softer than before. It was almost peaceful now both of you felt satisfied. Delicately he placed you back down on your feet and told you to wait where you were. You knew exactly where Daniel was disappearing to. He was going to get you something to clean up. He always did this, made sure to clean you up after he made a mess. It was sweet, comforting even. Daniel returned with a warm cloth and a towel and nodded over at the bed for you to sit down on. You did exactly as he asked and took a tentative seat on the edge of the bed. Your eyes followed his movements as he got down on his knees and his big palms went on top of yours, using slight pressure to spread them open tenderly. Daniel pressed the warm wash cloth between your thighs. You knew he enjoyed this as much as he enjoyed actually having sex. It was a bit of a kink of his. He rather liked watching his spent seed slowly dripping out of you after he came inside.
“Do you want me to get rid of them now?” He asked playfully as if he already knew the answer. He would have presumed you would say yes. That you would feel a little embarrassed if they had overheard the pair of you banging in the room above them. Or the fact you wanted a round two - which naturally of course you wanted a round two (and three and four, all over the house) so wanted them gone. But you surprised him. You raised your eyebrows and shrugged. “No, they can stay for lunch actually.” You pointed at your panties lying on the floor and motioned for him to get them for you. “I’m going to need those though.” “Babe….They’ve probably heard everything, are you sure I shouldn’t just” he had done what you wanted, he passed you the black thong he had taken off you fifteen minutes before. “And? So what if they’ve heard.” You shrugged pulling your still damp panties on and rising to your feet, Daniel was still on his knees before you, looking up with an amused (yet slightly shocked) look upon his face. You took the opportunity to bend over right then and kiss him. “If they’re going to be in our home so much then they’re going to have to listen to us having sex. They should be thankful we’ve not done it in front of them.”
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tanglepelt · 9 months
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Dp x dc idea 87
Danny is part Martian. He doesn’t know it tho.
Jack and Maddie decided to mess around with the DNA of their child before he was born. Adding in a bit of what they thought was ghost blood or something.
They originally planned to monitor and watch what happens to Danny as he grew up. See how it effects him. He was there ultimate research experiment.
But when he was born they felt just a tad guilty. They decided he deserved to be human. So obviously they suppressed that part of him. Every year they make sure it stays suppressed pill/shot or something.
That way he would only be human.
They wouldn’t have to deal with Danny’s “ghost” side coming out. They wouldn’t have to investigate what makes him tick.
Then the accident happens. The Fenton parents catch on quick. Already thinking Danny was part ghost. The accident obviously fully killed him and that’s why the ghost side was coming out full force.
They stop the suppression. Wanting to see what will happen. That’s when the Martian dna begins to effect him.
Shapeshifting and hearing others thoughts come first. Danny assumes new ghost power.
The fenton parents get more curious about what will happen. They decide it’s time to research Danny. This leads to him on the run.
Danny’s dna starts rewriting itself again. Danielle who Danny ran to gets him to frostbite. Frostbite reveals that he isn’t fully human. Thanks to Martian DNA being in the realm from an ex Martian frostbite informs them of his other part.
Jazz, Tucker, and Sam then set out to find Martian Manhunter. That way frostbite knows what the correct (alive dna not dead) structure is and figure out how to properly stabilize Danielle with it.
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thepersonnamedsam · 7 months
Text
where’d all the time go? - dr3
pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader
summary: a little look back in time and into the future
face claim: heidi berger
warnings: none
note: hiya, i’m back (at least for now)! this was inspired by the song where’d all the time go by dr. dog :)
masterlist / taglist
yninsta
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liked by danielricciardo, user and 38‘738 others
yninsta where’d all the time go?
view all 19‘627 comments
danielricciardo my beautiful baby
danielricciardo look at you, you were always cute
danielricciardo i love you so much
user1 he’s so whipped
user2 we love a whipped man
user3 give him some cream so he can be whipped cream
user4 wow, y/n, you are so pretty
yninsta thank u so much
user5 danny is a lucky man
danielricciardo indeed i am
yninsta aww baby
danielricciardo i am the luckiest with you
danielricciardo
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liked by yninsta, sebastianvettel and 927‘188 others
danielricciardo where’d all the time go? bc she’s my wife now rather than my racing partner…
view all 672‘910 comments
user6 omg danny u can’t drop that bomb rn!!!!!!
user6 i was not prepared to go to heaven today
user7 wtf happened?
user8 when did that happens?!;!;!:
user9 in june apparently
yninsta i am so lucky to call u my husband <3
danielricciardo mrs. ricciardo has a nice ring to it
yninsta yea and u gave me a pretty ring
sebastianvettel congrats you two, glad to have been invited!
user10 seb was invited!:‘bejdkdbfjd
user11 he better have been
maxverstappen1 my dream just vanished :(
maxverstappen1 i will never be mrs. ricciardo :(
user12 hahahaha max is too funny
yninsta soz max, can i make it up to u?
maxverstappen1 divorce him?
danielricciardo never.
user12 i cannot believe it, my fav boy got married
user13 yea and we didn’t even know about the engagement
user14 doesn’t matter, they won’t last anyways
user15 anyway(s) - there is no plural of anyway. if u hate do it at least grammatically correct
user16 slay. (and they will last forever)
charles_leclerc congratulations!!! so happy for you
daniel3.jpg
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liked by pierregasly, yninsta and 87‘199 others
daniel3.jpg the polaroid camera latifi gifted me finally came to good use, thanks mate
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nicholaslatifi cheers mate
user17 i just know they had the most perfect wedding
user18 i want a man to love me like danny loves y/n… sigh
user19 he there sweetheart :)
user18 ew.
yninsta it was perfect
landonorris had the most perfect time, thank you, you muppets
yninsta we love u lando
danielricciardo ig we do, if wifey does…
yninsta be nice
landonorris yea, be nice and listen to your wife
yninsta and danielricciardo
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 672‘179 others
yninsta we had the most beautiful time, thank you to you all! lots of love
comments disabled
yninsta
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liked by danielricciardo, user20 and 63‘826 others
yninsta where’d all the time go pt. 2
view all 46‘199 comments
user21 SHE GOT PREGNANT? TWICE? WHEN?
user22 that’s why she didn’t show up to the races, omg, she had whole kids!
user23 i hope they were whole…
user24 oop-
user25 he looks so happy
user26 so much better than at mclaren
user25 right?
landonorris when will i get uncle duties again?
yninsta soon
danielricciardo no you will not, they were so hyper last time you had them, idk what you did with them
landonorris they had pavlova, isn’t that a specialty of australia?
user27 it’s kiwi!!!!
landonorris doesn’t matter
f1
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liked by danielricciardo, yninsta and 1‘839‘636 others
f1 little throwback to @danielricciardo 's bachelor party with the whole grid
view all 738‘829 comments
user28 aww how sweet was that
user29 it’s really the whole grid :(
user30 even seb
user31 i think it was sebs last race even
user32 but their children seem at least 4 years old?!;
user33 maybe that’s why they married?
danielricciardo i look so bad :/
user34 nO TAKE THAT BACK
user35 look how happy they all are!
yninsta thank god they don’t have my bachelorette party pics…
f1 🤷🏻‍♀️
yninsta if u dare! i will sue u
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis
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stealingyourbones · 2 years
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Concept that I feel hasn’t been tapped into with dp x dc:
John Constantine begrudgingly being pals with Danny Phantom. When Danny was just barley ghost king, John summons him in some way to loophole his way out of another deal with a different entity he’s made a contract with. Ya know, a good ol “I’ll sell my soul to multiple entities so they can’t claim my soul or else start a war fighting for it and instead make myself unable to die” for the nth time. Danny doesn’t accept because the concept of owning someone’s soul as unnerving and not morally correct but helps John in whatever situation is needed and John is just bamboozled because he didn’t need to con and loophole his way out of whatever situation he was in and this strange ghost boy is doing it willingly and only asks to stop for some fast food after the fight as payment.
This is the start of a whole bunch of wild circumstances that make John Constantine summon/meet up with phantom to fix some dark magic shenanigans because Danny is one hell of a powerful entity and he doesn’t worry about having to owe back Danny in favors or debts that are magically binding which is a really nice change of pace.
Personally I imagine the vibe that the fandom has decided John and Billy Batson dynamic is like: A Concerned and frankly pitiful attempt of a parental figure with a kid who’s powerful enough to end the world if they felt like it. Added onto that is John freaking out because ‘why did the universe give this freaking child so much power holy shit oh god this could end absolutely terribly what the hell do I do’
Just Constantine and Danny combatting and stopping demons and curses of the hellish variety and just slowly meeting the magic users of the Justice League before meeting everyone as a gradual set up of Constantine, Justice League member, & Danny, stopping smaller arcane based entities/artifacts from causing damage to the world. Ending in Danny meeting the entire Justice League and stopping an insane threat and letting everyone really know just how powerful he is.
OR Constantine calling Danny for some big scale Justice league issue and the magic users freaking the hell out because ‘how the hell does John fuckin Constantine have a leader of an entire dimension/realm in his back pocket for emergency contacts and why do they have a good relationship with eachother’ ?!
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warlenys · 6 months
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s8 clara adultery goes so fucking hard in death in heaven she tells a cyberman that the doctor is the person closest to her in the whole world and when she realises that the cyberman is danny she doesn’t correct herself. because she wasn’t lying. she just says “i’m so sorry” and then promises to help him turn off the pain that he’s feeling from her saying that. that’s cold as shit. then when she says goodbye to him she says “i wasn’t very good at it, but i did love you”. like. ok we’re just saying it out loud now. in last christmas when she thinks of him to distract herself she says “danny pink, i love you, and i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i lied, i’m sorry”. the “lied” is so interesting because the only thing she could have lied about was their relationship. and her relationship with the doctor. she told him she didn’t love the doctor more than him but she did. of course she did. in dark water she tells him she can only say i love you to him over the phone because in mummy on the orient express whilst she said i love you to him on the phone in person she was saying it to the doctor. she loves him over the phone but in person. in reality. she loves the doctor. i love adultery. thank you clara
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p1nkshield · 8 months
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Estranged Uncle Au Part 3!
Jazz sat down with Danny while Clark was finishing up dinner.
“Maybe we can just tell him and he can like adult his way out of it? He is a grown man.”
Jazz and Danny looked to Clark as he seasoned the stew he was making, he turned around, kitten sneezed into his elbow and said. “Gosh! Pepper can really get you! Who are you talking about? Is anyone in trouble?”
Jazz and Danny shared a look. This guy couldn’t hurt a fly if he wanted to.
“We have to tell him Danny.”
“Okay, fine! We looked into Bru-” Danny began, but was interrupted by Clark’s phone ringing.
“Hello? … I’m on my way.” There was a noticeable change in Clark’s demeanor. “Can this wait? I uh.. have to cover one of Bruce’s galas!” Clark really does hate lying.
“I haven’t heard word of Bruce throwing another gala today.” Jazz stated in the same tone she would question Danny when he would poorly lie to her.
“It’s uh last minute! Exclusive! All the more reason to to report about it!” Clark said as he rushed out the door. "The stew will be done in about fifteen minutes!"
Before either of them could do anything Clark was already gone.
"He clearly doesn’t know how to uphold his boundaries! Its like Bruce says jump and Clark says how high! What is he making him do? Why does he feel the need to lie to us?" Jazz was suddenly so worried about an uncle she didn’t know she had like a week ago.
"He's not telling us because were just kids. I don’t know if he really has anyone to turn to but he doesn’t want to worry us. We have to help him."
Clark finished thwarting another one of Lex's plans with Bruce.
"Bats can I talk to you for a second?"
"hn?"
"You know the two teens staying at my home for the time being?"
"Jazmine and Daniel Fenton. Your niece and nephew correct?"
"...yeah they didn’t get the best impression of Bruce Wayne."
"How so?"
"I overheard that they think that Bruce Wayne is a creepy billionaire who isn't who he says he is. They also are the children of my sister who is a scientist of questionable ethics from last I heard."
Bruce cannot have a repeat Tim situation.
"Perhaps Bruce could pay them another visit to smooth things over?"
"That is some really good advice! I'll ask him if he can come over tomorrow." Clark asked facetiously
"I think he can make it. Maybe he could bring some of his kids in order to help them feel more at ease with people their age?"
"That sounds like a great idea."
It was not a great idea.
Danny was Bristling like a cat at Bruce and Jazz had a sour look on her face.
Almost every 'i'm harmless' stop was pulled. Bruce tripped on his way in, and called the kids he brought by their cutest of pet names. Bruce decided to bring Dick, Jason and Timothy. Dick pulled dazzling smiles and showed off his acrobatics in an attempt to entertain. This was met with polite but paltry claps. Jason who had been bribed to be on his best behavior talked at length with Jazz about classic authors and their best works. This headway was halted when Bruce called him Jaylad and Jason took it as a queue to do the who "Dad stawwwp!" embarrassed teenager routine. Jazz responded by becoming pale for a moment and being less receptive to whatever Jason was saying.
Tim was a disaster.
At first he was doing great bringing out all of his gala training. He even noticed Danny wasn't feeling the formalities he dropped them. It was working! Then he fell asleep. Into the snacks that were put out.
"Maybe we should go! It’s already pretty late, and we wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome." Bruce said still smiling as he wiped salsa off of the cheek of a blearily blinking Tim.
"Wha? What happened?" Tim said as he was ushered out of the door.
"You fell asleep idiot!"
"I did!?!"
Clark, Danny and Jazz heard them bicker on their way to the car. I would have been endearing if Clark wasn’t worried sick and Jazz and Danny weren’t convinced that they were in the family business of selling weapons to villains.
"So what do you think?"
"The eldest seems sleazy, the Second seemed nice but gave me a bad vibe and the youngest felt like he was doing everything he can to get Danny to like him and then passed out." Jazz listed.
"Not to mention they all seemed like they were doing everything they could to get us on their good side!" Danny added.
This is not good! Why do they hate him so much? What had Bruce done that was so off-putting?
"Uncle Clark, we need you to sit down."
What is this now? Clark let himself be pushed into a chair. Isn’t this what people do when they say something that might make them pass out?
"We have reason to believe that Bruce Wayne is a weapons dealer."
Bruce? A weapons dealer?
"Danny please show him the evidence."
Evidence?
Danny then showed Bruce the bits and pieces of confidential information.
Clark sat there taking it all in.
"We think that you may be in danger." Jazz said gently.
Him, danger?
"We keep trying to hack him but it's not really working."
"YOU HACKED HIM?!"
"We weren’t traced." Jazz soothed.
"We can get you out of this Uncle Clark." Danny said with much more assurance that his appearance can promise.
"I don't think you understand!" Clark began "I'm not in danger I can't be in danger!"
"Uncle Clark, anyone can be in danger."
Clark's head was spinning.
How was he going to convince two headstrong teens that he wasn't under the thumb of an evil billionaire with out telling them he's Superman?
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