#Sentient hoodie

[thedaycareattendant45]

Idea came to me....for some reason

[poyopaan]

damn- started watching a new youtuber and all of these just dropped out of my pocket

[ghostlyplacetobe]

Stimboard for gordon (@glitchylaptop)

Do not tag as kin, f/o, or me/irl/id please, this is a gift for a fictive in a system

Credits

Middle credit

[precureshowdown]

[doctapuella]

365 Days of Music Challenge

44. A song you've only recently started listening to

[unbizzarre]

One-Esk and Murderbot meet in the waiting lobby for Robo-Therapy

(…specifically rage counseling )

Probably two of my favorite robot/ai/construct protagonists in literature! Though I have a lot. (What’s up Culture shipminds…)

Creation notes:

A pattern I’ve been noticing is that a lot of these robots are very traumatized, very angry, and don’t like talking about their feelings. I was gonna originally make this short comic about One-Esk (aka Breq) and Murderbot on the first day of group therapy for rage counseling and it would just be a bunch of shots of them sitting in silence cuz neither of them like talking about their feelings but, uh…. the shots were just a lot and the series of events wasn’t really flowing right so I scrapped that idea in favor of not having to draw a zillion backgrounds. Still wound up taking a stupidly long time to create a product that feels… underwhelming. I really like how Breq turned out but I just couldn’t get the hair or costume design on MB to really fit the corpo-futuristic spacer asthetic I was going for, while still capturing that social-anxiety-comfort-hoodie energy. (Was originally contemplating having a shot of MB pulling hoodie strings closed over their face in one shot but wound up scrapping that idea as well.) Cannonicallly, MB should probably be in all dark blues and blacks, but the colors just weren’t working so I went with yellow instead. Idk. Maybe it’s a loaner hoodie from one of MB’s humans.

Here’s a shot I never wound up using:

Anyways! I hope this made you smile if you like one or both of these series! 😊

Post script: if you like Martha Wells Murderbot Diaries, you should definitely check out Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice trilogy, or vice versa. More angry traumatized non-binary human-ai constructs for all! Mega-latestage-capitolist dystopia, or xenophobic -imperialist-socialist empire? Sentient space ships? C’mon. Just read both series u know you’ll love it.

[greenunoreversecard]

Don't hide your pain

-> Angel dust x reader

A/N: I made this of my own violation. I needed to therapize myself

Reader POV, ftm male, who's ✨️traumatized✨️

It always starts like this.

Things go well for a while. Things go great, even.

And then it gets bad. And it stays bad, and i ruin every close relationship and im alone.

And then it repeats.

I just wish I could be better. I guess that's why I'm at the hotel.

Things have been good for a while, so good, infact I though the cycle could be over.

Angel brought so much light to my life. He made me feel so happy, and wanted and needed.

And I was so much better. But it seems like the happier I was the worse i fall.

I sigh, rolling over in my bed, grabbing my phone. Fuck it's late in the day. Charlie will be upset, but i cant seem to care. I just- I don't wanna leave my bed.

I look away from my lockscreen, a blurry picture of angel in my Hoodie chasing after nuggets, who has his phone in his mouth, trying to run away with it. It caught angel off guard, and i was laughing so hard i couldnt get a steady photo.

Its one of my favorite memories. I feel a small smile tug at my lips, but my body and my face feel like led that I can barely move.

Theres a knock at my door.

"Hey, baby. Are you ok? Haven't seen you in a day, and I wanted to make sure ya alright.." I hear his quiet voice as the door squeaking lightly as Angle peeks in, silhouette gently illuminated from the light in the hallway.

I grumble in reply and roll over. He sighs, and for a moment I think he leaves but i feel him sit on my bed, next to me. I can feel his warmth. Despite having the features of a cold-blooded spider, he's always run rather hot.

He rests his hand on my back.

"Baby, I can't help you if you dont talk ta me"

Irritation rises in me.

"Don't. I dont need you. I dont need your fucking pity. Just fuck off, please." I say, voice rough and shoulders tense.

His determination doesn't deter, though.

"I don't pity you, love. I just wanna help."

I know my irritation is irrational, logically. But I can't help being angry. Angry I am this way, angry I'm so helpless. And I'm ahry he has to see me like this, considering he has it so much worse. He deserves better than this. Better than me. But I can't seem to stop the slow of my defensive anger, vomiting out words I'm uncertain seraid him I know they do me coming out my mouth.

"Don't pretend, angie."

"I'm serious, though. I want to help."

"Don't play with me. I don't need you, and I don't need your pity."

"Why are you doing this?"

This freezes me. I tense. I don't know why I do this. I don't know why I'm hurting him. I don't know why I'm hurting myself by hurting the only person thats treated me like a fucking sentient being..

I realise, at this point, he's as rigid as a brick, and I look over at him. He tears in the corners of his eyes, eyes slighrly red from the effort it takes to stop his tears. His hair is a mess, and he's shaking, God's he's shaking.

"I- please, sugar. I just wanna help you but- but I can't if you push us away. I you push me away. I- I don't wanna lose you. I can't fucking lose you. And I can feel you sliping and its- it's scary. Please, if not for you then for me."

At this, a sob wracks its way through my body, every viceral emotion I've held back hitting me like a dam destroyed. Apologies spewing through my lips like it's a lifeline. And in a way, it is. Because, I know hes right. And I know if I continue on the way I do, I'll be destroyed at my own hands. And I'll lose him, I'll lose my lifeline.

...

..

.

I don't know how long I cry for. It's all kind of blurry, really. I know i tell him everything ive hid from him about my life through choked sobs, and at some point he's holding me to his chest, gently stroking my hair, touch gentle but deep, afraid to let me go as if I'll disappear, or break like glass.

The good never used to last for long, but maybe this time I can make it last forever.

So long as I have him.

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

End note: vv rushed lmfao. Anywhore, hopes this gives a small gauge as to my writing style. I can also try my hand at different possibilities.

Hope ye likey likey

[welcometosasakiworld]

To be Human a Third Time

"See you tomorrow for a movie marathon?" A girl with black hair and purple eyes asks. She was wearing a black tank top with purple markings, a black skirt with green accents, and under it, there were purple leggings and using a pair of black combat boots.

"Sure thing Sam!" A boy with black hair and ice-blue eyes responds. The teen wore a white hoodie with black details, ripped black jeans, and dark blue converses.

"Bye then, Danny!"

Walking inside his home, he noticed one thing.

The house was dark and quiet...

Too quiet.

Danny didn't have time to turn around before his head hit the floor, and everything went black.

Danny woke up to the sounds of his parents' muffled desperate cries, seeing his parents tied into chairs while he was on the ground with his hands tied, close to something that felt wrong.

Extremely wrong...

Looking behind him, he found what was messing with his ghost senses.

A Lazarus Pit...

But this one felt wrong... corrupted... or tainted.

This particular pit was reduced to something lesser than a blob ghost.

Danny still remembers his lessons with clockwork. The master of time told him how Pariah Dark had, in his reign, created sentient pools of ectoplasm to better feed the habitants of the Infinite Realms, and while those pits still did their jobs to feed ghosts, they weren't used like in the past.

But something must have happened when they lost control of those pits, and CW could not see what happened but knew a human interfered with them and now had control of the Lazarus Pit.

He needed to get away!

Whatever happened to the ectoplasm, he knew it was...

Danny had to stop to dwell on his thoughts when a man came out of the shadows of the dark room, which only the ectoplasm to light the room, giving it an eery vibe.

"I will offer one more time, help me with my... project, and I will not introduce your son to my ranks..." The mysterious man said to his parents, who were looking in fear at the man while trying to look brave.

Danny's parents started to scream, desperation very clear in their voices. The teen couldn't clearly hear what they were saying but knew the man wanted something if he kidnapped his parents and used Danny as a bargain.

The man seemed to have lost his patience as he grabbed Danny by the neck and dumped him in the pit.

The moment he touched the tainted ectoplasm, he felt immense pain he never imagined was possible. The tainted ectoplasm was invading his core, messing with his body and ghost-half.

He could faintly hear his parents scream before he blacked out.

___________________

He didn't have a name.

As master told him so.

He was a weapon, a tool to his master.

He killed, sabotaged, pleased his master, and was everything his master needed him to be.

So... why did the other weapon insist he was a human being with rights?

It began when Onryo had to nurse someone back to health, and the new weapon thought it was human and wanted to go after his murderer and old owner.

All for revenge.

Onryo did not understand, especially when Red Hood called him Danny or Phantom.

It made no sense, but there was something about the name Phantom that reached something inside of him. It made him warm... complete.

Like... he should remember, know why the name was his.

________________

They were running from the league.

Well... not exactly them, but Red Hood decided to kidnap Onryo and take it with him.

Now they were on the run.

They had reached Gotham some weeks ago, and now Red Hood, who insisted Onryo call him Jason, was hunting down the Joker while Onryo was ordered to find a school and blend with the population.

It didn't make sense.

Jason gave him some identification papers so he could apply to university. They said he was Danyal Phantom, a student who finished high school with high scores and aspiring to become an astronaut and work at NASA.

Should I continue this on ao3?

[puppy-steve]

sugar sweet as dixie crystal

steddie | E | 4k | ao3 link

prequel to she put her love down soft and sweet

important tags: transmasc steve, ace steve, daddy kink, feminine terms for genitalia, dry humping, nipple play (full taglist on ao3)

permanent taglist: @yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero

i'm thinking about adding more people (mutuals only, for now) to the taglist, so lmk if you'd like to be added!

Steve makes himself comfortable in his lap and Eddie reclines against his pillows and headboard, his hands going to Steve's hips.

“Well hello there ,” Eddie hums appreciatively, rubbing circles into Steve's skin under his hoodie. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't stop the little smile playing on his lips. “You haven’t done any snooping around the presents, have you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie gasps in mock outrage. “Stevie,” he admonishes. Steve’s nose scrunches as he tries to fight back a grin. “How could you accuse me of something so heinous? In my own home, nonetheless?”

He gives Steve’s bare thigh a gentle swat. “No, my good sir, I have not, for I am a law abiding citizen and would never break the first rule of Christmas.” He winks. “At least not with you and Wayne in the house.”

Steve hums in thought as he plays with the ends of Eddie’s hair. He looks down at him, considering, and brushes his bangs back off his forehead.

“Guess I have no other choice than to believe you,” he decides. “Was gonna wait until tomorrow, but I guess you can have your present early, since you’ve been so good.”

Eddie perks up a bit and sits up straighter. “Present?”

Steve chuckles and gently pushes him back against the pillows. Instead of elaborating further, he takes Eddie’s hands on his hips and slowly guides them up under his hoodie.

[gabessquishytum]

Johanna is a catpeople rights activist. So many humans treat them as their property and sex toys, but catpeople have feelings. Jo is appalled by this whole situation, and she does what she can to find foster homes and, eventually, new (good!) owners for catpeople in trouble. When she learns about catboy!Dream, it's an emergency. Dream attacked his owner, Roderick Burgess. Burgess was emotionally and physically abusive, but the law is not on Dream's side - if no one volunteers to take him in and work on his 'socialization,' he's about to be put down. They're already running out of time - since Burgess is severely injured (maybe he has his eyes clawed out?), it is ruled that Dream is highly dangerous and has only a few hours left to live. Johanna won't let anything happen to this traumatized catboy. Not on her watch! She already has a foster catgirl at home, Rachel, and she can't take another because Rachel needs much care and attention (they also might be heading somewhere romantically, so Jo doesn't want to fuck it up by bringing another catperson onto her territory), so Johanna asks her bff for a favor. Hob Gadling is well off financially, can take a vacation without notice because he is a business owner, and he's naturally friendly. Also, he lives alone - no human or cat partner in the picture. He's not very delighted with the prospect of taking Dream in at first, but Johanna really insists. So they come to pick Dream up and see him in a dire condition: bruised, injured, and malnourished, he hisses at everyone who even tries to come close to his cage. A cage?? Hob has never been involved with catpeople before, and activism has been entirely Johanna's shtick, but he quickly realizes how blind he's been. Hob organizes the best medical care for him, orders all the decent books on catpeople to educate himself, and buys all the stuff Dream might need. Dream is stunning and very clever, and his previous owner obviously was a sadistic prick. Hob wishes he could claw the fucker's eyes out himself when he sees the extent of Dream's injuries and starvation. Dream is very tense and afraid at first, but as time goes by, and Hob treats him like a person, he starts to hope that maybe he's found not only his forever home but also someone to love him this time.

New catperson owner Hob treating Dream just like he's a person - a person who deserves respect, personal space and love!!! When he goes to buy new catperson stuff for Dream, he's kind of disgusted by the fact that it's all spiked collars and wet food. Hob hates it. He walks right out the store and just goes to the normal shop instead. He gets nice comfy clothes, bedding, proper food with lots of protein. He organises a proper bathing and toileting situation for Dream in his own bathroom which Hob only goes inside to clean. Just decent stuff that any sentient being deserves.

Dream doesn't know what to make of it at first. He's gone from being moments away from being euthanized, to being allowed to just kinda... do what he wants?? He has privacy, good food, healthcare, and very pleasant company in the form of Hob. Because Hob is so kind. He takes care of Dream’s injuries and nurses him through the initial stages of refeeding. He lets Dream snuggle up to him under 3 blankets because he's so cold, still shivering sometimes. He never makes Dream do anything (except take his medication, which is very important), but he doesn't ignore him either. Dream has to wonder - is this what it's like to have a friend?

Dream recovers slowly, but he does gradually start to thrive. He wears comfy shorts and big hoodies, and takes long naps in the sun that pours through the window in the bedroom every morning. He eats fresh food that Hob gets at the market every day. He's finally learned to read! Sometimes he feels like he must have died and gone to heaven. But then the dog next door barks at him and reminds him that life is not quite perfect - but almost.

His relationship with Hob evolves slowly. They share a bed and cuddle up every night (Hob tolerates Dream’s 3am zoomies pretty well by now - they now have a treadmill for that exact purpose). Dream is also generally naked in bed, which has lead to one or two moments. The mutual attraction is undeniable. Hob just doesn't want to take advantage...

Luckily Dream is prepared to make the first move. He's a person, and that means that he's capable of choosing a life partner. It just so happens that he's choosing Hob. He's going to need some practice with kissing (he's not quite sure whether or not he's meant to bite?) but he's sure that Hob will be patient with him. He has been so far. And to Dream, that patience feels a lot like love.

[saigawrites]

Rescue ranger on their way!

Seelie! Genshin characters x Platonic! Gn! Reader

Tags : fluff, crack, scenarios.

Warnings : mentions of crying, cursing

Summary : Genshin characters get isekaed into our world, but as seelies. Waking up in an shady alley, they were lucky enough to find you, or you to find them.

They genuinely didn't know how have the events turned out like this. Currently, they were in as they assumed, a seelie form, and in a whole other universe. They got that just from opening their eyes. Everything was so extremely detailed, exaggeratedly textured and completely unfamiliar to them. They tried to take out their weapons to protect themselves from any possible threat, but found out that they got rid of their hands. Arms and legs and other body parts in general. All that was left from them was their mind, their conciousness, as they were trapped in a fluid blob body, more similar to a circle. Fear have awakened in their instincts, and they worriedly and carefully levitated around, studying the environment.

They stumbled upon you :

Panic took over their body the instant they opened their eyelids. Not even having the time to process the situation, the instantly flew from their spot, bumping into some random things first, then finally getting their sense of balance after some painful hits. They wanted to escape whatever area they were in fast, flowing through long alley between buildings to the street lit up by the night lights. But, as they were about to be free, you were about to pass by and took a direct hit by a surprisingly strong aura blob. That happened to be the last hit they could take, as they blackened out and fell into your bag.

Kaveh, Mika, Itto, Yoimiya, Amber, Chongyun, Bennet, Barbara.

You stumbled upon them :

They froze in their spot from confusion, as their mind couldn't process any information given to them in the period of them opening their eyes and adjusting their view. Their body refused to move, as all they could think was "What". While their mind was somewhere in space, travelling with stars and meteors, you noticed a brightly colored orb casually sitting on an alley floor. You thought the whole image in front of you was questionable, but your body seemingly moved on it's own, getting dangerously close to the unknown object. Kneeling down to it's level, you with massive second thoughts muttered "what a strange thing" and proceded to pick up the blob and put it inside your bag.

Thoma, Dehya, Al-haitam, Tignari, Shenhe, Kokomi, Ayaka, Rosaria, Mona, Diluc, Xiangling, Xingqui.

They snuggled inside a box in fear and you heard their cries :

Fear and horror overtook their body, as they trembled underneath the unfriendly landscape. The fact that they were now smaller, and couldn't protect themselves didn't help either. Their non-existent heart seemed to race as they looked around, and saw a small entrance into some tight space. Finding no other good shelter, they hesitantly entered the carbon box and snuggled themselves in the corner. They can't help but let out quiet cries, as their squeaks had an irregular tone. You, taking a walk late at night heard the cries of something small in the distance, and rushed over to help whatever creature was in trouble. Though, you didn't expect to see a pretty colored circle with ears, stuffed inside a box and shaking violently. Flashing them a warm smile, you carefully reached out your hand, seeing if the sentient balloon would response. Them, seeing your kind gesture, instinctively bolted from their shelter into you arms, nuzzling deep into your hoodie. You couldn't help but yelp a little, but then gaining your composure, you gently put them in your bag and headed home.

Wanderer, Ganyu, Fischl, Sucrose.

They explored around with cautiousness :

They are not usually the ones to give panic or fear control of their body. They reacted calmly to the situation, trying their best not to worry too much. Afterall, they are still strong, even if they don't have their weapons, and have turned into a seelie, right? Silently floating around the area and carefully studying the objects, they tried to locate where they were and what to do from now on. Peeking out slightly into the street from one of the buildings walls, they met your gaze and quickly backed away. Nervously searching for a hiding spot, they were met with the grasp of your hands, holding them firmly as they felt fear in their gut. But, seeing as you gently turned them to face you, attentively examining their features and form, and then smiling at them and saying "What on earth are you?" They couldn't help but feel safeness for the first time in this day. Maybe, just maybe, you are actually not bad.

Wanderer, Shinobu, Yunjin, Gorou, Raiden, Kujou Sara, Aether, Lumine, Eola, Yanfei, Xiao, Xinyan, Keqing, Jean, Razor, Noelle, Kayea, Beidou, Cyno.

They explored around with amusement :

They are fearless bastards, barely having anything threatening in their own world, they think they can fly around safely in a whole another planet. They spectate their surroundings with amazement or amusement, as they find the scenery interesting. They probably have already thought about this kind of thing, floating careless as a seelie, without a worry in mind. First they were only met with walls and trash that seemed gigantic to them, until you caught their perepherrial vision. They rushed towards your direction, sneakily burying themselves in the bag you were holding. You, dense and unknowing you, didn't even notice their genius plan and intentions, as you strolled back home from the store with noise-canceling earphones.

Baizhu, Zhongli, Heizou, Yelan, Ayato, Yae miko, Kazuha, Hu Tao, Albedo, Childe, Venti, Ninguang, Lisa.

Ahhhh is this long? Idk. But, this is my apology for the short-ass continuation of the previous fic😁. Wanderer has two tropes because I couldn't decide which one suited him the most🤔.

[bunnypeew]

Under star-lit skies - Moon/Sun x reader part 1

Okay so I started writing this cuz my obsession for Sun and Moon came back since I keep getting posts and fanart of them so here is the first part of the fanfic you can read it on Ao3 linked in my bio :3c

it was one of those days, one where you and your class had to go to a stupid location outside of town. You weren’t eager about it since you preferred being closed in the confinement of your dorm room, but an outing was necessary even for you. You got up from your bed unwillingly and started getting dressed, some sweatpants a t-shirt and a hoodie on top, was pretty easygoing and comfortable for a day out.

you weren’t sure where you were going until it came into focus, the Freddy Fazbear Pizzaplex for some reason you weren’t going to question it since your school did choose some random places all the time, not caring if it’s educational or not, but you guessed it was because of the way the pizzaplex was built, could be really interesting or maybe how the animatronics worked. You all went into the pizzaplex being greeted by some basic-looking bots holding maps

“Take a map, take a map,,

you take one and look the other way a little creeped out, you hope those poor things weren’t sentient like the bigger ones otherwise this would’ve been fucked up. The tour starts then, going around the entire pizzaplex from Gator golf to Roxy raceway, it was pleasant meeting the big animatronics in charge of entertainment. Roxy, in charge of Roxy Raceway, was a wolf animatronic with long grey hair and a puff of green in the front, while Gator Golf was attended by Monty, an alligator-like animatronic with icon star-shaped sunglasses, he was pretty cool. Then you arrived at the star of the gang Freddy Fazbear himself, he was a nice bear animatronic with a little top hat on his head and an iconic earring on his left ear. He waved at everyone with a happy smile on his face, you waved back catching his attention, noticing you he winked at you also doing finger guns, you smiled and blushed a little bit at that (blushing over an animatronic? Are you okay??)

You then arrived at your last stop, the Superstar Daycare. It was a place full of kids, also full of toys and arts&crafts stuff (of course like the name said it was a daycare) but something caught your eye, the animatronic that was attending the children, it was a jester-like robot with a sun for a head that could spin around when it wanted to

“Hello everyone! I am Sun! the daycare attendant I hope you guys had a lovely tour so far!,,

he says lively his rays on his head spinning around happily, Sun huh? (ironic isn’t it) You were fascinated by him, he was really, pretty? I guess you could call him pretty.

When you got back to your dorm you picked up your laptop right away and started doing research on Fazbear Entertainment, finding a lot of weird stuff about some lawsuits and shit like that, you didn’t care you went on to look if the pizzaplex out of town was looking for a job, you really needed one and that was a big place so maybe they did need some human personal, you were also hoping you’d get to work near or in the daycare, you wanted to know more about Sun. Thinking about that you looked up the Superstar Daycare for some more information and found yet another lawsuit about the daycare this time, you read through it.

“my son was traumatised by your stupid daycare attendant and can’t sleep with the lights off anymore, whatever that thing did to him. You should decommission it right away it is not safe for children,,

you scrunch up your nose at that, because there is no way this person was talking about Sun seemed like a nice guy! So you did more research finding out the animatronic they were talking about was not Sun, but an animatronic called Moon, he was the nap time attendant and apparently, they were two separate animatronics, which intrigued you even more.

Doing even more research you find out they were actually looking to hire someone, it didn't say in which position but you weren't one to complain about stuff like that so you wrote an email and sent it, you weren't expecting a reply right away so you decided to go to bed.

It was dark, and something was bothering you but you couldn't put your finger on it, you found yourself in a jungle gym of some sort crumbled up like a pretzel, you started moving in front of you or what you thought was in front of you, while moving you could hear some sort of music, like a soft melody getting closer and closer until it stopped, you stopped as well, looking around now trying to understand where you were.

clang.

clang.

clang.

BOOM.

You wake up in your bed full of sweat and your heart beating super fast, you get your phone from your nightstand only to see it is 2 am, you definitely can't sleep after this weird ass nightmare you just add so you decide to start scrolling through social media. Before you get the chance to do that tho you get a notification from your emails, saying that Fazbear Entertainment sent a reply to your email, accepting your application!

You get up to do a little victory dance happy for it to begin.

tomorrow is another day.

this is how they will look in the fanfic since they are separate animatronics here the one in the middle is my persona ignore them I insert myself in every fandom I go in lol!!

[luxaofhesperides]

those who serve.

CHAPTER TWO: a conviction.

read chapter one on tumblr or read the entire fic on ao3.

this is 7k words. be warned. . . .

It takes three days of angling at what he wants before Alfred looks him dead in the eye and says, “You may ask me for anything, Danny. Please do not hesitate if you need to ask for help.”

So Danny bites the bullet and says, “Can I work for you? It just sounds like you have to do a lot on your own, and having someone else around might make things easier for you.”

Alfred blinks. “You… wish to work for me?”

“Yeah. Like, I need a job anyways but I doubt most places will hire a homeless high school dropout. But you know me, and you can give me errands to do so you have time for other things.”

“You would like to work,” Alfred says again, slowly, “For me.”

Danny gives him a long look. His heart starts to sink, heavy as stone. He’s starting to get the feeling that he’s messed up, that he wasn’t actually supposed to ask Alfred for help, that this is a mistake. It’s a stupid idea to begin with, and now that he’s actually asking, he can see that this was never going to work out.

He may have just ruined the only friendship he has in this dimension because of his stupid mouth. 

“Sorry,” he says, drawing into himself, ready to leave and hide away until the shame lessens enough that he can stand to be a part of society. Or, not a part, but on the periphery of society. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It was stupid. I’ll just go now.”

“Danny,” Alfred says. He doesn’t reach out to Danny, just stands still with his impeccable posture, hands clasped in front of him. Danny could leave, could disappear and never be seen again. Alfred wouldn’t be able to catch up to him. He doesn’t need to stay, but something in Alfred’s voice leaves no possibly for refusal. 

He stops and lifts his head just enough to meet Alfred’s eyes.

“It is not stupid,” Alfred says sternly. “I was simply surprised. There will be details to be worked out, but I would be glad to have your help.”

“Really?”

Alfred smiles. “Really. Now, would you like to tell me what you would like to do while we walk?”

That’s something he really likes about Alfred: he always gives Danny a choice. It’s not a trick, either, there’s no wrong answer. He never demands anything, never orders him around, just offers Danny choices and gives him the time to actually chose what he wants. 

If Danny says no, he doesn’t want to talk about it at the moment, Alfred would accept it and change the topic, talk about something else. 

He can say no, and it’s a relief. 

He doesn’t, of course, because he does need this job, but it’s nice to know that the option is there.

“What’s there to say?” he begins, “I just wanna help you out. You’re always out way too early, doing all these errands on your own. And you’ve never mentioned anyone helping you while you work in that manor.”

“Well, I would like to know what you want to do, Danny. What sort of tasks would you like to oversee?”

Danny bluescreens for a moment. He’s never actually thought about his career, not after the accident that destroyed his future. There’s no way any of his space knowledge will be helpful in housekeeping, and most places don’t have sentient food that needs to be fought and defeated. Hell, he doesn’t even have a resume!

Not that this is like. A legitimate job interview or anything. It’s just asking for a favor.

Does this count as nepotism?

Danny is way too young to know any of this. He’s never felt more unprepared for something before. How are career talks supposed to go? Is he supposed to negotiate for his salary? What even is the minimum wage in Gotham?

“I don’t know,” he admits, tucking his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Whatever you want me to do, I guess.”

“Have you ever had a job before?” 

Danny shakes his head, trying to push down the shame that wells up in him. Alfred doesn’t seem upset by this answer, just thoughtful. It’s not like it’s a surprise, anyways.

“I see,” he says, “Would you like to shadow me for the day and get an idea of what I do?”

And then he can figure out how he wants to help Alfred, Danny realizes. It’s the solution to this problem, one that Alfred’s offering up as another simple yes-no choice. This would work, help him get a better idea of what he can do, what’s expected of him, but Danny doesn’t particularly want to follow Alfred around all day. 

Not because of the company; Alfred’s great, Danny would be happy to spend all week with him. The problem is that Alfred is only out very rarely, and spends all the rest of his time working on keeping that manor functional. 

Danny does not want to end up in the house of another rich person when he doesn’t know them. He doesn’t want anything to do with rich families that probably are either very weird or are hiding dark secrets. 

That being said, he does really need a job and he trusts Alfred well enough. If he says his employers are good, then Danny will trust in that and only be a little miffed if they try to kill him. 

“Sure,” he says, despite all his misgivings. “Sounds good.”

“Come along, then,” Alfred claps his hands together, looking rather happy about this outcome, “We have much to do.”

They walk to Alfred’s favorite tea shop, where the owner always has a new blend ready for him. Danny stays behind Alfred the entire time, carefully staying out of any small talk as he tries to force down the anxious twisting of his heart. This is all happening so suddenly, with barely any time for him to process, and it’s taking effort to not run away. 

It would be fine if this was all the job was; bodyguarding Alfred on his early morning errands, all personal business so he can catch up with friends or get something for himself before shifts all his attention to keeping his employers alive. 

He can handle bodyguardings. It’s practically the only thing he’s good at: keeping people safe no matter the cost to himself. 

But the thought of walking into a big, fancy manor to keep an absurdly rich family alive is making his skin crawl. Sam’s parents never liked him, preferring to stick to social circles far above him, and Vlad was Vlad.

These ones he knows nothing about, can do nothing to prepare for meeting them. All he has is Alfred’s vague comments about them when he talks about his job, but he’s always very careful to keep the details close to his chest. Danny doesn’t even know the names of the people Alfred works for. 

There’s no way they’re going to be okay with having him around.

Danny’s going to take one step into the manor and get kicked out. And Alfred will have to side with them to keep his own job and Danny’s back to where he started, out on the streets with no way of supporting himself. 

Maybe he should have thought this through more. Maybe he should ask if Alfred can set him up with some other job, ask one of his friends for an opening. 

“Are you quite alright, Danny?”

Alfred’s voice cuts through his thoughts and Danny realizes that he’s been silently following Alfred down the street, lost in his head, and he’s completely missed whatever Alfred just said. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I simply wanted to know if you’ve eaten breakfast yet.”

“Oh, I haven’t. I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

Alfred makes a disapproving sound, then quickly turns on his heel and begins to walk across the street. Danny stares after him blankly, then hurries to follow after him, eyeing the few people walking out of buildings just in case they try to start something. 

For a man his age, Alfred sure moves fast. It’s a change from how he usually walks at a steady, sedate pace, leisurely strolling through the streets of Gotham as if it’s a walk through the park. It’s a struggle to adjust his pace to make sure he keeps up with Alfred without speeding past him.

“Where are we going?” he asks as Alfred continues his journey down the block. 

“We are going back to the manor,” Alfred announces, “I will not have anyone go hungry on my watch.”

Danny bites back his immediate reply of I am not going to the manor with you and instead says, “I’m not hungry, though.”

“Nonsense. I have cared for many teenage boys in my lifetime. You lot are always hungry.”

That’s. Fair. 

Yeah, most teenage boys are always hungry. Danny certainly was before… Before.

When he was fully alive and safe. Even when he was turned into a halfa and had to keep secrets, he was always hungry, stealing snacks from Sam and Tucker or going to Nasty Burger with them to settle his stomach. All his appetite disappeared the moment he had to flee his home dimension and it hasn’t come back since.

He doesn’t think it ever will. It’s not like he really needs to eat as much now; being half dead helps him last longer without food or water, and he’s sure his stomach is about the size of a walnut now, with how little he’s been eating.

Danny’s not about to dump all that onto Alfred, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and follows Alfred to a small parking lot behind a deli. There are a few cars left there overnight, and one that, while not as obviously expensive as the last one Alfred drove, is in much better condition than the other ones. Alfred pulls the keys out of his pocket and unlocks the car, opening the passenger side door first. 

“Come along now,” he says, “You’ll be having breakfast before you accompany me through my day.”

This is what he’s agreed to, so he doesn’t protest despite how getting into such a small, enclosed space makes his skin crawl. He hasn’t been in anything as small as a car in… months. In fact, the last time he was in a small space, it was the thermos after his parents caught him. Jazz had to steal it in order to release him, but his parents caught on a little too fast and chased after him before he could even get out of the house.

He doesn’t like small spaces anymore, is the point.

Barely breathing, Danny slides into the passenger seat. The door shuts behind him with a heavy click and suddenly there’s no air in the car. It’s only the fact that Danny can hold his breath for around half an hour that keeps him from hyperventilating. As long as he doesn’t breathe, he doesn’t need to worry about the way his lungs are twisting, how his throat is tight, how his hands shake where they’re pressed against his thighs. 

Alfred opens the door again, getting behind the wheel. He starts the engine and gently reminds Danny to put on his seatbelt, then reverses out of the parking space once he sees that Danny is buckled up. 

The drive is a blur. At some point, he thinks he hears Alfred trying to talk to him, but Danny is too focused on not losing his cool to actually process anything happening outside his head. One moment, they’re pulling out of the parking lot and into the street. The next, a large iron gate is opening in front of them, allowing the car to continue down the gravel road leading to a large, Gothic styled manor. 

Sam would love this place, Danny thinks when he sees it, then takes a shaky breath to fight back to burn of tears in his eyes. 

He immediately stops breathing again, hanging onto his composure by the thinnest possible thread. 

The car comes to a stop off to the side of the entrance steps. There’s also a wheelchair ramp there; accessibility isn’t something he was expecting to see from a rich person’s home, but it’s at least one sign that these people won’t be as bad as the ones he’s met before. 

Alfred likes them for a reason, he reminds himself, he just needs to see what it is before he commits to working around them in any capacity.

“Here we are, Danny,” Alfred says, cutting the engine and opening the door. Danny scrambles to follow, pulling off his seatbelt and all but falling out of the car in his rush to escape the suffocating space. “Are you quite alright?”

Danny blinks up at Alfred, trying and failing to calm down from the everything messing him up at the moment. “Yeah,” he croaks, then hurries to clear his throat. “I’m good. Just… overwhelmed.”

“If you would rather do this another day—”

“No! No, I’m fine, really. I can do this today. Better now than never, you know?”

Alfred doesn’t look like he believes him, but it’s fine. Danny can handle it! He’s handled everything that’s been thrown his way so far, no matter how terrible. He can handle staying inside a giant manor to learn how to be a butler.

Piece of cake compared to fighting Pariah Dark, really.

“So this is where you work?” he asks, trying to change the subject. “Big place.”

“Indeed. It has been in the Wayne family for many generations. My father worked here and I followed in his footsteps. I have cared for this home and its inhabitants for many decades now.”

Well. Never let it be said that Alfred isn’t dedicated to his job. 

“Wow. You must really love this job, to stay so long.”

“It can be hard,” Alfred says, a sad smile on his face, “But it is always worth it.”

That… sounds like there’s a story there. A painful one. Danny won’t pry, he knows better than to go poking his nose in sensitive matters like those; usually, death is usually involved and he is well aware of how difficult talking about death can be. 

Alfred unlocks the front entrance, pulling one of the large double doors open. “After you, Danny,” he says, holding it open. 

Danny ducks his head, mumbling his thanks, and steps inside. 

The manor is quiet. It’s dark, also, with only the soft light of a floor lamp illuminating the foyer. Everyone else must still be asleep, which isn’t a surprise seeing as it’s barely past dawn. Danny’s just gotten too used to being awake during the night, and had forgotten that most people don’t get up as early as Alfred does. 

Despite the darkness of the manor, he can pick out the fancy rugs and the large chandelier above his head. A grand staircase is at the end of the foyer, with hallways going along the side of the stairs. Seeing the manor from the outside is one thing. Standing inside it and feeling the true scope of how large it is, is something else entirely. 

“You take care of this entire place by yourself?” he can’t help but ask, glancing back to see Alfred shutting the door behind him. “Also, do I need to take off my shoes?”

“No need, though I appreciate you asking. And yes, I often tend to the manor by myself. When I am able, I will call in outside cleaning services to prepare the manor for large events.”

Despite having permission, Danny still feels uncomfortable walking all over fancy rugs with his grimy shoes. He’s been wandering all over Gotham, especially through quieter, dirtier areas. He doesn’t want to think about how difficult getting all the dirt out of the rugs is going to be. Making more work for Alfred when he’s supposed to be helping leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Maybe if he just floats a little, just enough to keep his shoes off the floor without being obvious…

“This way, Danny,” Alfred says, taking the lead and walking down a large hallway on the right. He flicks a switch as he goes, the lights turning on a split second later and revealing the landscape paintings that decorate the walls. 

Man, Danny thinks, These people are Rich-rich. Maybe even richer than Vlad.

He hopes they’re not secretly a cult or something. Rich people always have some weird, fucked up secret they’re hiding. As long as it’s doesn’t involve murder or human experimentation, Danny can pretend he Does Not See and focus on helping Alfred.

The hallway leads to a large dining room with one of those extremely long tables, fit to seat twenty people. Smaller chandeliers hang from the ceiling, the dangling crystals glinting in the light. 

Alfred, thankfully, doesn’t stop there. Danny would walk out of the manor and find a barn to live in if Alfred tried to have him eat in there. It’s just not happening, not now, not ever.

Beyond the dining room is the kitchen. Though still larger than any kitchen Danny’s ever seen, it feels much more homely compared to the rest of the manor (that he’s seen so far). There’s a variety of papers pinned on the fridge door and a small shelf of cookbooks on the open space of the wall besides one of the windows. There are bar stools on one side of the kitchen island and a small table in the corner with six chairs, something more appropriate for smaller groups than the giant dining table. 

There are potted plants in two corners, bringing some color into the room, as well as a vase of bright flowers on the island. 

There is also, most notably, someone sitting on one of the bar stools, slumped over the island with his head resting in his arms. A cup sits off to his left, steam still wafting up from it. 

Besides him, Alfred makes a disapproving tutting noise that has the guy lifting his head and turning around to face them. 

“Hey, Alfred,” he says, voice rough with exhaustion. Even from this distance, Danny can see the bags under his ears. “Morning.”

“Master Tim, did you get any sleep at all?” It’s phrased like a question, but Danny can hear the reprimand clearly.

Tim can too, judging by his wince. “Some,” he says, not looking either of them in the eye. “It just wasn’t a night for sleeping.”

That means nothing to Danny, but it makes Alfred soften in sympathy. 

“I shall speak to Master Bruce about having your schedule for today cleared.”

“I can still work—”

“Absolutely not.” 

Tim looks like he’s gearing up to protest, then glances at Danny and slumps back down. “Fine,” he grumbles, pressing his forehead into the countertop, “But just this once.”

“This is one of my duties,” Alfred tells Danny as he walks towards the sink. “Taking care of the many stubborn members of this family. Getting them to take care of themselves is among the most pressing duties I have.”

“We’re not that bad,” Tim mutters.

“You came to this house for the sole purpose of helping Master Bruce,” Alfred counters.

Tim shrugs. “Yeah, that’s fair.” And then turns his attention back to Danny. “We’re all disasters, but I swear we know how to handle ourselves. Alfred just has strict standards.”

“I… don’t know if I’ll be able to help with that?” Danny says, looking between the two. “I’m usually the one being cared for, not the other way.”

“What, you get into a lot of trouble?”

“More like I’m very accident-prone.” 

“You’ll fit in great, then,” Tim smiles, then sits up and rolls his shoulders back. He grabs his mug, takes a big swig, and sighs. “Guess I should get back to what I was doing.”

Alfred pulls out a cutting board and a knife, sets them on the counter, then opens the fridge to pull out various fruits, a pack of bacon, and some eggs. “Danny, do wash your hands and then take a seat. Master Tim, I’m sure Danny would appreciate your company a little longer.”

Tim slumps back down and offers Alfred a lazy salute. He hooks his ankle around the bar stool besides him and pulls it out for Danny. 

This is going well so far. Nothing bad has happened, he hasn’t been attacked, and he’s met the first member of the family Alfred loves so much. Tim is chill; he’s clearly exhausted, has problems with sleeping and self-care, but he’s nice and seeing him act so casual, like any other teenager, has Danny relaxing. 

He forces himself to move, walking in the air just a centimeter above the floor, and rolls up his sleeves to wash his hands. He finishes quickly, shaking water off his hands into the sink, and hopes neither of them saw the Lichtenberg figures on his right arm. 

Alfred’s washing the fruit and laying them out on the cutting board when he glances over. Danny wants to help, but he also doesn’t want to get in the way, so he sits next to Tim, curling into himself some.

Tim watches him with a sharp gaze. He didn’t seem this awake a moment ago. The icy blue of his eyes feels dangerous, somehow, and Danny’s not sure what’s changed in between him washing his hands and sitting down, but he tries to stay still and not give away how nervous he is. 

I’m just being paranoid, he tells himself. He doesn’t exist in this dimension. No one is out to hunt him down. They don’t know he’s a halfa, and it’s going to stay that way. 

There’s no way Tim could know anything about Danny, but the look in his eyes makes Danny want to run. 

“You look like adoption bait,” Tim says suddenly. He takes another sip of whatever’s in his mug. Coffee, based off the smell.

“Um. What?”

Tim gestures vaguely at Danny. “Blue eyes. Black hair. Sad. Y’know, Wayne adoption bait.”

“Does Wayne only adopt kids with those features?” Danny squints at Tim. “Did he get you? Do you need me to break you out of here?”

Tim laughs and the sharpness of his gaze eases. “No! I’m kind of a special case since I went to him instead of the other way around. But a lot of the others fit that description, and Bruce has adopted a lot of sad kids over the years, so it’s a bit of a running joke in Gotham.”

“And he’s nice? He’s good to you? To everyone?”

If this is another Vlad situation, Danny’s going to get every kid out of the manor and somewhere safe. Where that somewhere is, he doesn't know yet, but he’ll figure it out once he gets there. Alfred might not want to leave, but he won’t mind Danny protecting him while he’s around this ‘Bruce’ guy.

Probably.

Whatever, Danny can just go invisible and keep Alfred safe that way. 

“Bruce is good,” Tim reassures. “He’s emotionally constipated and makes a lot of mistakes, but he means well and he cares about all of us. He’s a loser, but we all love him anyways.”

“Thank you for that, Tim,” comes a deep voice from behind them.

Danny tries not to jump out of his seat, manages to catch himself on the edge of the island before he flies up to the ceiling, and whips around to stare at the newcomer. 

“Good morning, Master Bruce,” Alfred says from where he’s plating all the cleaning cut fruit. 

“Hey, B,” Tim says, “Didn’t think I’d see you up so early.”

The man is large. Not as large as his dad—few people come close—but still bigger than Danny. He’s shoulders are wide and Danny can tell he’s packing a lot of muscle beneath his black turtleneck sweater. There are streaks of silver in his black hair, a few wrinkles around his blue eyes, and something about him sets Danny on edge.

He looks normal enough, but carries an undercurrent of danger. 

This is someone who can do a lot of damage if Danny’s not careful.

“Good morning,” he returns to Tim and Alfred, but his eyes are fixed on Danny. “And hello. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Bruce.”

Bruce walks closer and holds out a hand with a smile. It looks fake, but well practiced enough that most people wouldn’t notice. Danny, who is very well versed in reading people to make sure they’re not going to try and kill him, notices. 

He hesitates for a moment, then slowly takes Bruce’s hand into the world’s slowest, most awkward handshake. 

“Danny,” he says. “Sorry for intruding.”

Behind him, Alfred loudly sets a frying pan down on the stove. “You were invited, Danny. You are not intruding.”

Danny tries to pull his hand back, but Bruce tightens his grip without warning. He turns Danny’s hand over, looking over it with a critical eye.

“Your hand is very cold,” he says, “Would you like a blanket?”

A spark of panic flares through him and Danny makes his hand intangible for a brief second to free himself from Bruce’s grasp. “No thanks,” he answers with a tight smile, “I just have bad circulation.”

Bruce hums thoughtfully, then steps away. He claps a hand on Tim’s shoulder, then moves to one of the cupboards to start making his own cup of coffee. 

“Do you need any help, Alfred?” Bruce asks.

“I will not allow you to scare Danny away by setting the kitchen on fire again,” Alfred responds immediately.

“I could just set out plates,” Bruce amends.

“Please sit down, Master Bruce.”

Tim bites down a laugh, but his shoulders still shake with it. He turns his face away when Bruce looks at him, eyebrow raised judgmentally. He’s not smiling, but there’s a fond tilt to his lips, a softness in the heavy lines of his shoulders. 

Danny watches it all, content to disappear in the background as he slowly relaxes again, basking in the warmth of a family that so clearly loves each other. They’re all at ease around each other, safe and at home, even with a stranger in their midst. It reminds him a bit of being a kid, clinging to Jazz’s back as they waited for their dad to pull out a batch of his fudge, their mom making hot chocolate for them.

It’s a bittersweet memory now, but still something he cherishes. 

“We all try to help Alfred when we can,” Tim whispers to Danny, leaning over so they won’t be overheard, “But we’re pretty bad at it. Bruce, especially, can’t be trusted in a kitchen.”

“That sounds like a story I’d like to hear later,” he whispers back, and the grin Tim gives him is full of promise.

The kitchen quiets down after that, Tim and Bruce still tired and holding back yawns as Alfred continues cooking. Danny observes them all carefully, trying to learn more about them without actually having to talk to them. He watches Alfred cook as well, trying to learn through observation; he’s never cooked before, not when everything in the kitchen was ecto-contaminated and needed to be fought instead of eaten.

He’d like to learn. If Alfred’s willing to teach him, he’d like to learn how to cook normal food for normal people.

The morning creeps on, the world waking up outside. He can hear birdsong from outside, and though it’s too cloudy to see the sun, he’s sure it’s above the horizon now.

Alfred sets plates of cut fruit down in front of Bruce, then Tim, and then Danny. It’s followed by a separate plate of bacon and eggs. He asks the room at large how they would like their toast prepared, to which Bruce requests lightly toasted with honey, Tim asked for blueberry jam, and Danny doesn’t say a word.

“Danny?” Alfred prompts, and Danny looks up from his plate. 

“Oh, um, no thank you,” he answers awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat this much.”

Alfred accepts the answer easily enough, moving to start making the other requests, but Tim is staring at him with his piercing gaze again. Danny tries to ignore him, popping a blackberry into his mouth. 

It’s not Tim who says anything. It’s Bruce, who starts by clearing his throat and gently beginning with “Do you have a stable living situation right now, Danny?”

“Jesus, B,” Tim says, “That is not how you should be starting this conversation.”

“It’s important to know.”

“Yes?” Danny lies very unconvincingly, then slumps when three people give him disbelieving looks. “I’m doing my best, okay. And I’m taking care of myself just fine.” He nibbles on a piece of bacon to stop himself from saying anything else, hoping they’ll back off if he doesn’t make eye contact.

For a moment, it looks like Tim is going to speak again. Then a new voice pipes up from behind them and again, Danny has to cling to the counter to stop from flinching too hard. 

“Who is this,” a young voice demands. When Danny turns around, there’s a kid standing in the doorway, arms crossed, as he glares at Danny. 

“Um,” Danny says, “Hi? I’m Danny.”

The kid moves his glare from Danny to Bruce. “This was not mentioned,” he says rather accusingly. 

“This one isn’t mine,” Bruce says, “This one is on Alfred.”

Everything about this conversation is flying over his head, so Danny decides to ignore it and go back to slowly working his way through his first breakfast in around a month. It’s delicious, but he can only finish the fruit and some of the eggs and bacon before his stomach starts twisting. 

Tim pulls the plate away when Danny can’t eat anymore. “Don’t push yourself,” he says, “I can finish it, if you want.”

He gives up his plate with a grateful smile, and turns to get up and see if he can get a glass of water. The kid is right by his elbow when he turns and Danny has to take a deep breath and slowly let it out before he accidentally kicks the kid and sends him flying. 

“Why are you here,” he says, tense and ready to move. He looks ready for a fight, which is odd and concerning to see on someone who can’t be any older than twelve. 

“I was invited,” he answers, “I’m maybe going to work for Alfred? If today goes well, I guess.”

The kid’s eyebrows go up. “You are not being adopted.”

“No,” Danny says slowly, “I’m just looking for a job.”

Abruptly, the kid relaxes, then sticks out a hand. “I am Damian Wayne. I will be keeping an eye on you.”

“Don’t be rude, gremlin,” Tim says just as Danny shakes his hand. 

“I am being reasonably wary,” Damian counters, “You are far too lax with a stranger in our home.”

“I’m trusting Alfred to not bring in anyone dangerous,” Tim corrects.

“Boys,” Bruce calls out, warningly. They both look away from each other, scowling. “And Danny,” he continues, “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you’re welcome here even if you don’t work.”

This time, it’s Tim who cuts him off with a quick call of “Bruce,” just as Damian says, “Father, enough.”

“If I can offer help, I will. I don’t need to adopt everyone who comes through here.”

Alfred sends him a withering look that has Bruce looking away, sipping his coffee, pretending he didn’t say anything. Tim scoffs loudly and Damian shakes his head disapprovingly. 

“I’m telling everyone you said that,” Tim declares, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He types something out, looking more and more awake now that he has more people to talk to. Or more people he can embarrass Bruce with. 

There’s definitely something that Danny’s missing here, but he doesn’t intend to spend enough time around them for it to matter. All he’s here to do is shadow Alfred and hopefully get a job. Maybe having friends in this dimension would be nice, but that’s something to consider after he’s figured out his living situation.

“Oh!” Tim says suddenly, holding out his phone to Danny. “Give me your number. You can text me any questions you have about us.”

“Can’t Alfred answer any questions I have?”

“Sure, but he’ll give you the polite, respectful answer. I can give you all the hot gossip.”

Danny can’t help but smile at that. He thinks he’s found a good friend in Tim, but only time will tell. “As much as I’d like that, I don’t actually have a phone. So.”

“I can get you one right now,” Tim says.

“No, no! It’s fine. I’ll buy one once I have like. A paycheck or something. Wait,” Danny pauses, “I don’t have a bank account either. Okay, so this is gonna take some time, but eventually I’ll have a phone!”

Tim turns to Bruce. “Okay, I can’t even judge you for this one. If you don’t let him work with Alfred, I’ll find a position for him at WE.”

WE? That’s a new term. There’s still so much he needs to learn about this dimension and Danny can’t get started because he can’t access the internet and all the libraries are closed when he wanders. 

Besides him, Damian clicks his tongue, then takes a plate of eggs, fruit, and jam covered bread from Alfred and takes a seat next to Bruce. 

Danny decides to take the lull in conversation as a chance to ask Alfred for some water, only to see that somehow, without him noticing, a full glass has appeared where his empty plate once was. He looks up to see Alfred round the island, passing off the request toast to Bruce and Tim, then collecting all the empty plates he can find.

He mentally notes the moment as further proof that Alfred has magic. 

The three members of the Wayne family busy themselves with their food. Danny cradles the cool glass in his hand, drinking slowly so he doesn’t upset his stomach even more, and tries not to tense up as the back of his neck prickles. They’re not obvious about it, but they’ll all paying close attention to him and it’s making him anxious. 

Normal people aren’t so focused or intense. They certainly aren’t as dangerous as the three in the kitchen. Danny isn’t even sure how he can tell, he just can. It might be some sort of instinct, recognizing them as potential threats due to all the ghosts he’s fought since the Accident. 

He really hopes he never finds how why they’re all so dangerous.

There’s quiet clink of a plate, and when he looks up, Alfred is taking the last few empty plates to the sink.

“I could wash those for you,” he offers, “Since it’s, y’know, what I’m here for. To help you.”

Alfred smiles warmly and shakes his head once. “There is no need just yet, Danny. Thank you for the offer, however. I would be glad to have such a kind person help me, should you choose to work with me by the end of today.”

It doesn’t feel right to let Alfred cook for him and clean up after everyone. But he also doesn’t want to go against Alfred in his workplace. Or his home? The manor may also be his home, which is worrying for the future of Danny’s professional boundaries. 

Damian leaves, saying he needs to get ready for school, and Tim mumbles something about work before Alfred talks over him and tells Bruce that Tim is taking a sick day. He doesn’t seem to mind being ordered around by a butler, though most of the orders are phrased as very pointed observations. Danny’s beginning to think it’s a British thing.

And then Alfred finishes washing the dishes and leaves everything in the drying rack, and says, “Why don’t we discuss the possible terms of Danny’s employment in your study, Master Bruce.”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” Bruce says as he stands, pushing his seat in. He gestures of Danny to follow him and begins walking out of the kitchen.

Danny hesitates, but goes easily enough, some of his worry easing when Tim and Alfred both walk with him, guiding him through the manor.

He’d look around and take in everything if he could; Danny’s too busy thinking of worst case scenarios to enjoy seeing all the paintings and photographs and various decorations scattered throughout the manor. Sam’s place was always clean, save for her room, and only existed to show off wealth. Vlad’s was a castle in Wisconsin, which already says more than enough.

Wayne Manor, on the other hand, is big and homey. There’s a history within these walls. It’s almost tangible, full of love and laughter and grief and hope. The wealth is obvious, but so is the love of family. 

Even in Bruce’s study, there are signs. Photographs on the wall, all carefully framed, of various people holding poses. Danny keeps his eyes on them as Bruce rounds the large desk and gets settled, taking in the smiles of a young boy next to an elephant, a trio of girls at a ballet, a group shot of the family on a beach vacation.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” Tim asks, following his gaze to the photographs.

Danny nods. “Everyone looks really happy.”

“That’s probably why there’s so few of these photos,” Tim says, then quickly covers up his somber tone with a cough. “Go ahead and sit down.”

So he sits, feeling like he’s at the principal’s office, in trouble yet again for some ghostly nonsense. Except instead of his principal, it’s a rich man who might be his boss by tomorrow.

“Now,” Bruce begins, folding his hands together on top of the desk, “I understand that you want to work as Alfred’s apprentice, of sorts. Assist him with his own tasks. Is this correct?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes.”

“And if I’m understanding you properly so far, you are in need of a job because you’re homeless. Yes?”

“Also yes.”

Bruce nods thoughtfully. “If you wish to live within the city itself, we would be happy to help you find a good place to live. However, you could also live here, as Alfred does. It make needing transportation unnecessary, and you would remain close to Alfred should he need any help.”

He almost instinctively rejects the offer, too used to expecting the worse from wealthy men. An immediate offer to live with them? So suspicious it’s not even funny. 

But he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. And it would keep him close to Alfred. 

“Staying here sounds like the better option. I have a few conditions, though,” he says, watching Bruce’s face carefully for any sign of anger or annoyance.

There’s none. He’s as patient and unflappable as ever. 

“And they are…?” he prompts when Danny doesn’t continue. 

“I won’t be your son,” he says. “No adoption. I’ve had enough of rich men trying to force me into their families just to prove a point, or for some other stupid reason. I’m not having it here.”

“Fair enough,” Bruce says. 

“And if I find out you’re like, secretly evil, I’m allowed to run away with my body intact. You don’t get to keep any part of me.”

“Also fair,” Bruce says, nodding slowly as he begins to look more and more concerned. 

“No cloning or other experiments with humans. If I see any sign of that, I’m out.”

Bruce goes very, very still in a way that means nothing good. Danny squints at him, then glances to Tim so he can gauge if this is bad or not. Only Tim is also very still, staring down at the floor and slightly pale. Paler than before, in any case. 

“Please don’t have some sort of secret lair in your basement. I do not want to know if you’re leading a cult or not. I want no part of it. Either don’t have a secret lair in your basement, or keep me out of it.”

Alfred clears his throat delicately. There’s the faintest trace of laughter in his voice when he says, “All very good conditions, don’t you think, Master Bruce?”

“Right. Yes. I… accept those conditions. Which are very reasonable.”

Danny squints at him, wondering which of those conditions, exactly, is throwing him off guard. He’s well aware that all of them are rather outlandish, but considering his life, he’s not taking any chances. So far the Waynes seem like a pleasant family, but he thought Vlad was cool up until he got tortured and then subsequently never truly got away from him. 

This second attempt at life is too important to risk. 

If Bruce is evil with a secret basement liar, Danny is well within his rights to lose his shit about it.

“Okay,” Danny says after a minute. “That’s it. Those are all my conditions.”

“Right! Well, why don’t we talk about your salary.”

“Um.”

Danny shoots Alfred a wide-eyed look of panic. At that exact moment, Damian appears in the doorway of the study and says, “Pennyworth, I am in need of a ride to school.”

“What’s got you so excited for school?” Tim asks, twisting around so Damian can see his incredulous expression.

“Colin has promised to show me pictures of his cousin’s pet bird.”

Tim nods as if this is all very normal. Alfred quietly promises Danny that he’ll be back soon, then leaves with Damian so the kid can continue his education. Which leaves Danny floundering of an answer, at a complete loss as he tries to come up with reasonable numbers for a salary.

“Can I just shadow Alfred for a day before we talk about this?” he asks, searching for a way out of this situation.

Bruce frowns. “It would be best to get the details settled now. You’ll have plenty of time to learn from Alfred later.”

“Let me handle this,” Tim says, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Then he looks at Bruce and suddenly isn’t the tired, fun teenage boy Danny’s been hanging out with during breakfast. Now he’s serious, holding himself tall, as if he has equal standing with Bruce. 

Please come back fast Alfred, Danny mentally pleads as Tim and Bruce start speaking about wages and hours and health insurance and kidnapping policies. 

What the hell kind of butler job even needs a kidnapping policy? 

Maybe he didn’t think this through. But now that he’s here, Danny’s determined to see it through. He’s gotta get this job; if not for his sake, then for Alfred’s.

No one should have to handle the Waynes, daily, on their own. That, at least, is something Danny can help with. 

If there’s anything Danny’s good at, it’s dealing with crazy. 

Now that’s something he can confidently put on his resume. 

("Are you sure about him?" Damian asks as Alfred drives him to school.

"Quite certain," Alfred replies, smoothly switching lanes.

"And he's just here to work? Not for Batman, or Robin, or to infiltrate the family?"

"Indeed. In fact," Alfred says, glancing up into the rear view mirror where he can see Damian scowling down at his backpack, "he was rather insistent that no one adopts him. It was one of his conditions for staying in the Manor."

This isn't much, just word of mouth for a stranger they know virtually nothing about, but it's enough to appease Damian for the time being.

"Fine," he says, just as they pull up to the school drop-off lane. "I will permit him to stay so long as he doesn't harm the family or try to take my place."

"Very good. I imagine you will get on well with him once you get to know him. He's a difficult boy to dislike."

"We'll see," Damian mutters, then adjusts his grip on his backpack in preparation to leave. "I shall continue my surveillance of Danny when I return from school."

"Have a good day, Master Damian," Alfred calls out after him as he exits the car. He lingers just long enough to see Damian walk through the gates of the school, the merges back into traffic and begins the drive home. And if he drives a little faster than normal, there's no one around to point it out. Not that anyone could blame him for looking forward to day of teaching Danny the various ins and outs of his duties as a butler.

Bruce has had many children to raise and mentor in the lovely heroes and people they are today. It's about time Alfred got a student of his own.)

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

several sentences sunday

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @shitouttabuck @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @athenagranted @rewritetheending @king-buckley @disasterbuckdiaz @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela

thank ya darlins! <3 feeling generous and also in need of validation so im gonna share a snippet from two wips, one is the buddie calls fic and the other is my andrew x sam fic hehe

5+1 calls fic

The unspoken words choke him, wrapping around his throat like sentient, vile vines and strangling him, preventing any air from escaping, latching themselves around things he can’t bear to say. He wheezes, sounding so pathetic even to his own ears and despite how it fills him with crippling shame, Eddie is grateful that he is out here, that Buck can’t hear him like this.

“It’s not enough,” he bites out, teeth grinding against the pitiful pull of despair flooding his mouth. “I’m here, I’m right outside, but I can’t do it. I can’t go in. I can’t look at you. I can’t give you these words. Instead I’m throwing them into a fucking phone because I’m a coward who can only be honest with you when I can’t see you. And it’s not fair, but–fuck, when has anything in our lives been fair?”

summer sons fic

“That an order?” Sam asks with a twitch of his lips, clearly biting back on the wisps of wickedness that are wound around his body and through his dark, aged honey eyes.

A savage curl of satisfaction blooms within Andrew, utterly foreign but becoming more familiar, its touch more known and real than the insistent tug of the afterlife.

“Do you want it to be?” The question falls out of Andrew’s mouth without his permission, carried out into the world along a rushed breath that is far too hot to stay inside his body. The rasping cut of his voice is full of lilting temptation that is begging for them to sink their teeth into.

Andrew’s very gums ache as they stand suspended, the both of them now right outside of the bathroom door, caught like dragonflies in amber, preserved as they dance and circle one another.

tagging @spaceprincessem @elvensorceress @diazass @vampbuckley @911onabc @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @loserdiaz @buddierights @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @giddyupbuck @gayedmundodiaz @folk-fae @andrewblur @ghostscowboys @messyhairdiaz @bucks118 @anxieteandbiscuits @bigfootsmom @housewifebuck @arthursdent @eowon @devirnis @watchyourbuck @diazblunt @butchdiaz and anyone else who wants to share!

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 17

Synopsis: The Doctor muses on the nature of what he could do, the reader is a willing accomplice to her own life.

A/n: first off, I'd like to thank @queerconfusionthings on the slightly darker tone of this chapter and our long talks about 12, it changed this chapter. You get me in a way precious others do...and to all my readers, yall are best. To my mutuals, I'd die for you. Especially those who don't share my needs here. Love u.

It started to border on experimental. So many untapped valleys and choices he could make now that his pet fawn was solidly by his side, and now bound to leave him, no matter how dire the situation or how many red flags or fears the ghosts of his past could bequeath to her. (Y/N) was firmly in his grasp. Perhaps indefinitely.

There were certain thought experiments that were hypothetical that he was taught at the academy. How to not just bind a weaker species to your mind not just in mind, but in blood. The facets of addiction was the singular universal trait of all sentient life in the cosmos. He admitted that he was becoming as addicted to her as she was to him, and those nasty substances she would take.

He was of half a mind to remove their influence on her body and substitute them for him. As they walked through Kew Gardens, he mused on that. Take the urge that crippled her for drinks and cigarettes to the point of clouding her thoughts at times, bind those starved out brain cells to the idea of him. The swap from nicotine and ethyl alcohol to the Doctor would he fairly easy to do.

Ultimately, after she flashed him a smile and kissed him on the cheek before heading to the loo, he decided against it. For now.

She was getting beyond handsy…almost to the point of him being begged to fuck her in public. Maybe the switch was happening naturally. The addiction to the physical was clearly getting stronger…

Wouldn’t he be so lucky?

He’d have another full-scale rifle in her mind soon to assess the current situation!

Maybe he was more like the Rani than he’d previously assessed…

Wouldn’t that just choke the life from Missy? Her precious parallels dashed in the face if him ending up much more like their estranged friend turned mutual foe.

Whatever the case in this poorly-plotted and infinitely nailed-out love story he was crafting, the Doctor was sure of one thing. His reputation as the universe’s biggest savior, it’s self-inserted martyr needed to stay intact. Missy knew to some extent. Missy could feel and reveled in his own self-corruption at the hands of this mere human.

Missy would, even if she wanted to escape, keep this secret. Their rivalry and comrades and millennia-long bond, despite how fucked up it was, or how many times they’d kill or fight one another was iron-clad.

Honor among thieves or something…

The idea of some sort of vivisection briefly clouded his vision as he saw her exit the toilets. She was beaming. She held her jacket in her hand and her teeth caught in the light.

He decided against that idea.

There were opportunities endlessly flowing out.

“Hey, I’m absolutely starving!” She pulled him by the ties on his hoodie. “Do you want to go to a pub after this? There’s got to be a really good one that does a lovely roast dinner or something.”

Totally clueless, totally obvious to the danger she was in. So fine-tuned to weird shadows and knew when a human man on the street was up to no good. She didn’t know that the real predator was getting the aglets of his hoodie flicked around.

Poor her. Poor little fawn. Fully in the wolf’s maw and her neck was already snapped. Lost in the too-dark woods, separated from her herd. Only the guidance of that would come had made a meal of her. And was toying her corpse out further…

He felt his cock stiffen.

Maybe he would take her tonight. Just until bleeding. See how far her dependence on her would go. Maybe degrade her a bit.

If he could, he would. Wasn’t it his right?

He did own her, after all. Everyone from the team at UNIT to that last scrappy remnant of Torchwood saw her over-the-moon, fully-tethered ache for him…

They all picked up on something far more grasping than mere companion in their relationship. He wasn’t risking her life and breaking her spirit on planets far outside her home solar system. A dark, full-bodied compatriot. An equal lover. Perhaps they would arrive at the conclusion of his idea of settling down on Earth.

Not like their human opinions mattered in the end…

“Yes, of course.” He returned her eager, lavish smile with one of his own.

He slammed these thoughts back in the dark chest that was his mind. For now he’d just play with her hormones and her mind. Just put them at maximum. Continue this charade.

Keep everyone and everyone in the dark…

It was a great rest of the day, a butterfly landed on her arm. She delicately picked it up to rest on her finger and it stayed put as if she was her own form of magic. The little insect crawled around and she led it to rest on his jacket.

“He’s probably picking up the sugar scrub I used last night.” She rationalized.

“Or you’re just preternaturally sweet.” He let out the cheesy line as it flicked itself off his being and flew into the air. She shot him a bemused sideways glance. When she finally got it off her finger and it was firmly on his being she slightly shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Obviously, it didn’t take a liking to him.

It’s instincts were far better tuned.

He took her to the closest pub. It wasn’t doing a roast dinner that night. She was put out, but ordered chips with a gin and tonic and some little sandwich thing.

His Earth girls really loved their chips.

Maybe that was his type? Little, bold Earth girls with loud minds that could devour nothing but chips for all eternity and be perfectly happy doing so.

He could live with that…

She went out for a cigarette and he mentally made contact with Missy.

She ‘picked up’ the mental receiver.

‘How goes London, you filthy old man?’ The words shot into his mind like an icicle from a roof.

‘Fine, just curious, how much attention did you pay to Professor Hedflonhorzthenethar’s lessons on groove-making in lesser species?’

‘Rapt, Doccy. Why?’

‘Send me your memories, I’ll Amazon a tuba to my office.’

Another betrayal of the morals he started this regeneration with…

‘Let me see you do it. I’ll only do it if you do it now and let me look through your eyes!’ It was sharp, it felt like she was beside him shouting it.

He gave her permission to see through his eyes. He sighed and whipped out his phone, ordered a tuba and closed up the connect to his eyes.

The entirety of her memories regarding the lessons pinged into his brain like an email or perhaps a text notification…

His little fawn slid back onto the barstool next to him as Missy closed the line…

‘Don’t break her yet! I want to be her friend! I’m so lonely!’

He could still feel her teasing pout lingering in his brain. Perhaps she left it as a taste of his own medicine.

“The night’s getting cooler.” (Y/N) informed.

“Pity, you’ll need to cover up.”

Her mind was clearly projecting images of her taking him to the toilets and fucking him in the stall. Loudly.

Her mind was wandering, she kept admiring the line of his brow and the way his fingers crossed over as he held the glass of Fanta he was slowly sipping. She needed him in ways that would shock perhaps even Captain Jack Harkness or perhaps that smaller, dark shadow that used to follow him around, John Hart was his name?

A pathetic kicked dog that craved the Captain’s attention…

Just like him and Missy.

He shook his head at that particular parallel.

Probably the advantage of dating someone in her profession. She knew what was avant-garde in sex!

Or at least for a human of her time period that had never been off-planet…

The Doctor let his mind wander into hers. Despite her clear projection, he wanted to see exactly what the damage of the last night was. She was chattering on about a philosophy book she picked up for between clients and for downtime at work. She completed it and wanted to share her critiques of it and her ways she’d probably improve upon the messages. As well as what she liked from it- she wasn’t all kvetching, no appreciation, after all.

In all honesty, he loved the wild tangential spin she loved. He felt some remorse about how deeply he had rummaged in her brain. She still was, in a sense, her own. Just now permanently entangled in his web. Like a rat in a glue trap, but only she didn’t grasp how sticky the glue was…. She was fully mentally tethered. He’d have to be more careful, he didn’t want to lose her, or push these experiences too deep. Losing this spark of ingenuity and tired vivaciousness would be a sin worse than anything else.

He swallowed another sip of his Fanta.

It seemed a bit shaken, but he swept those away. Kept them as salacious afterthought. Bonded the memories from today that were pleasant to her already aching neurotransmitters. Amped up her hormones a tad bit.

Anyone around her, even a stupid human could probably hear her mind now. It was both very intrigued by the subject matter of the book but also so desperately needy for her Doctor. He could feel her aching cunt and body responding from here. Anybody with a pulse could probably get her drift.

He'd probably, if anyone was sensitive enough, have to start beating them off with a stick!

That could be fun, lure her further. Let her know that she was only safe with him…

He ran the possibilities and scanned the bar, seeing if he could play any games.

Sadly not.

He decided against that for the moment.

Especially since something told him that she’d have precious little trouble fighting for herself. Unless he purposefully put her mind in a state of freeze, he doubted that a pub brawl based on her appearance would faze her. She, like most human girls, had been numbed to that sort of violence.

She’d probably have to come in and save him, by the looks of a few of the other patrons here…

He dissolved that idea. He couldn’t risk breaking his promise to her and regenerating on the spot if she was frozen, meant to witness. His superior genetics and all that may come with was no match for a gone-to-seed ex-rugby player nor someone who clearly worked security. As he finished his assessment of the crowd in the pub.

His mind games would have to play out in other ways still…

Just adjust the plans that he had. And take in the information Missy had pinged him.

The illusion of free will still reflected true, right?

His old pal, Plato did some allegory with a cave…sadly he wasn’t paying attention when the man was speaking. Missed the point, invented a self-lubricating spatula for flapjacks.

Oops.

He’d never say he was depriving her of that outright, no too controversial. Too salacious. Guidance, yes. A dual corruption arc? Definitely.

Daddy knows best, rung through his skull. An old line he told Kate about the poison to kill the Zygons…

Paternalistic? Yes.

How could he not be? A human is so young and weak compared to most species out there. Let alone him and his!

After all, he was her teacher. Her educator.

These thoughts, mixed with how strong she was fantasizing about fucking him, and her natural allure…he was shocked that he wasn’t bursting through his trousers, exposing himself to all to see.

He'd fuck her tonight. Not only did she clearly need it, but if he didn’t give in, he would probably act out.

He had fully surrendered himself to current path he was on. Yes.

He’d not destroy her entirely. Take away what enchanted him to her. That would be a sin graver than killing her outright. She had goals and dreams. They had discussed at such at length. He’d let her have those. So long as she’d never stray from his clingy side.

He half-wished he could summon a past version of himself, or perhaps a future without risking too much. Just to confer and pass back ideas.

All he had was Missy.

Or to sneak off and search for the Rani.

And they’d destroy him with zealous help.

No! He was alone in this path. Only solace was Missy and her enjoyment of his fawn and petty need to be good and please reform for her release. He walked his path utterly alone.

The evening wound itself up. The Doctor had to pounce. To claim what little of his fawn lay left unclaimed. Ruin her forever. Claim her indefinitely…

He paid their bill and ventured into the night.

A pep laid in his step, his cock still semi-stiff. He’d destroy her to rebuild her.

Teacher’s Pet.

He’d have his fun next term. Make her into a professor’s aide. Push her servile nature to him into a possibly public place. Show her off, perhaps even.

But for now? He was about ready to explode. His balls ached, and his hearts were full.

All in the name of love, right?

Or obsession…

Either way, still to have someone as alluring with such a firm form like (insert a description of your body, reader…) and a mind as hard in her ideals, but so easy to toy with?

Ecstasy…