#no beta i die like danny

[charcoalhawk]

No Batteries Required

Turns out that with all the other powers of a ghostly core, they also make a great emergency light source.

Second Phic for this Phic Phight!

Prompt from @jewishicequeen : There's a powerfail at school, and during a major test, too. So it's really lucky, if a bit weird, that Fenton glows in the dark? Or, Danny becomes a freaking nightlight.

Today is his home room period’s first test back from winter break, one of the most important for the quarter. Glancing around Edward Lancer counts twenty five bent heads, all focusing on the paper before them. Hopefully today they can get through the next, a quick glance at the old clock hanging in the wall, hour and four minutes without any ghost attacks or rouge bathroom trips.

If they ended up having to push this test back then it would mean the class would have less time to go over and review their next unit when the time came, which in turn he knows will push the entire schedule back at least a week or two, meaning less time to review the needed material, leaving his kids ill prepared for tests the entire quarter.

Even after two years Casper high had not been able to stretch or alter their curriculum to accommodate for their new, erm, ghostly neighbors. Every attempt to reach out to the larger school board had been met with quiet disdain and louder criticism.

At best they could use the few half days the calendar offered and convert them into extra time in the event a ghost prevented tests from being completed multiple days in a row. They were doing all they could to not take the kids' spring break, it wouldn’t be fair after all their kids went through to turn around and deprive them of one of the few chances for a break they could get.

But, nothing Edward can do about that right now. Now he has a duty to see these kids though their test today and hopefully be able to move into their next unit on Monday.

Weak sunlight is streaming through the windows, casting the room in a soft warm glow. One of many reasons Edward had requested an outer room of the school. He had found that, as distracting as the outside could be, having a room with a view to the outside kept his students from feeling too enclosed and anxious.

It also didn’t help that sunlight meant that his room was always nice and bright, better than the cheap overhead lights which could barely keep the room visible when the blinds were closed. In the last month three of them had been damaged to the point that they were nonfunctional, and several others were just too old and were on their last legs.

There’s no outward sign before it happens, no flashing light or rumbling earth, one moment Edward is observing his students from his desk, and the next the room is plunged into darkness.

Well, not complete darkness, but it’s a rather gloomy day, so the light from outside casts the entire room into a muddled gloom.

As his brain is trying to catch up with his eyes his ears finally register the echo of all the lights in the room going pop and out at once.

In the half second before his students register what’s going on Edward curses himself for even thinking things could not go wrong.

No one screams, at least. But there’s the screech of cheap metal chairs on tile as his students try to figure out what’s going on. There’s no burst of light from students' phones, which strikes him as odd, before Edward remembers they’re all sitting in little cubbies at the front of the room.

After an unfortunate encounter with a ghostly duo of the mad Nikolai Tesla rip-off and a metal Mohawk man, Edward had negotiated with his students that all phones were to stay at the front of the room and not on anyone’s person.

One only needed to experience a group electrocution from dozens of phones combined with sitting in metal chairs once before his students readily agreed to the new rule.

(There hadn’t been any lasting injuries, all in all it hadn’t been a super powerful attack, but one student had needed to go to the nurse for fainting after the shock. At least Dash and his friend group hadn’t teased young Daniel too badly for that.)

Now that the darkness had settled in, and there was no maniacal laughter to indicate that a ghost was directly behind this situation, the chatter from his students rose from a murmur to a fever pitch.

Two sharp claps bring everything to a halt, and Edward is greeted with twenty five pairs of eyes staring steadily at him.

“Everyone please remain calm,” his voice was loud in the now defining quiet of the room. “Hopefully this is a temporary issue and will be resolved in the next few minutes. Now, we still have light from the windows so if we could all please get back to our tests-“

A series of clanks and buzzes pierce the air from the side of the classroom, before the metal ghost shield contraption slams down over the windows with a god awful grinding sound. An echo of the screeching sound fills the room as Edward once again tries to comprehend what had just happened.

It must have been a failure in the schools power system, either a fluke or a ghost had been trying to cause problems but the fail safes had caused the entire system to shut down in self defense.

It didn’t immediately explain why the metal ghost shield enforcers had activated, but given that the system was less than two years old, and had been in large part programmed by Jack Fenton meant that there were bound to be a few flaws in the code.

And now the class was sitting in pitch darkness and gearing up to be in full panic mode. Unfortunately with all their undead neighbors the school has had little time to educate the students in what they should do in situations not involving the undead.

Shove a kid in a room with a ghost and they would arrive back in class five minutes later with a triumphant grin and a few scorch marks, close a kid in a room and set off the tornado warning and suddenly everyone was running around with their heads cut off.

No one has run from their feet towards their phones yet, but Edward knows it’s only a matter of time. And then he’ll have a stampede of terrified juniors all running over each other in the pitch black classroom.

For all this was their classroom, it was a new room to everyone. A particularly nasty attack from the Wisconsin ghost a few days back had almost completely obliterated their homeroom, so they were forced to relocate to a little used lab room in the far wing while Mayor Masters found the resources to allocate to the school.

With silent feet Edward moves to where he knows the door is, it won’t be much, but at least if worst comes to worst he can slowly escort his class outside. But, the door handle won't budge, and his heart sinks to his shoes as the door refuses to open.

He knows part of the new ghost security system was that individual rooms could be completely locked down to catch a wandering ghost, but this seems like a large oversight of the Doctor’s Fenton part.

He makes his way back to his desk, then turns again, making his steps now audible to his class. Let them think he’s pacing, it’s a normal enough habit of his that the kids shouldn’t realize something is wrong.

“Alright everyone, please remain in your seats. If something has happened emergency power should activate soon, and once the faculty has figured out what’s wrong they’ll use the PA system to instruct us on what to do next.” damn, he can feel his own voice wavering slightly.

That’s hoping whatever caused this to happen didn’t affect the PA system, and if they end up doing a door to door notice they won’t be able to get theirs open, if they even remember seeing as this classroom is usually unused.

But, something is wrong. The room should be in complete darkness, but as the seconds tick by the room becomes steadily lighter, as if someone is slowly powering up a flashlight.

As the room slowly becomes visible all eyes are drawn to the source, a spot right next to the windows, but it’s not natural light.

It’s the color of the glow that truly throws Edward off. Most everything he’s encountered in the last few years that glowed were always a sickly green color, reminiscent of radioactive goop shown on Saturday morning cartoons. But this glow now reminded him of a sunrise. Small and bright, but always a welcome sight.

Even before the form becomes fully visible, Edward knows the culprit. Often the center of unnatural things occurring all around him, young Danny Fenton.

As his eyes adjust to the light he sees it is not, in fact, a flashlight, but Danny himself that is brightening the room.

Which, even for a ghost hunter's son, this is rather unusual.

But, one should neve look a gift horse in the mouth. He’s seen his students float before and even become an actual ghostly dragon in one very memorable occurrence. If this means he doesn’t have to reschedule this test, and as the minutes tick by it becomes clear that Danny is producing enough light for the entire class to see by, then Edward should simply go with the flow, as the kids say.

“Daniel,” and oh the poor kid looks just as freaked out as the rest of them feel, “could you please move to the middle of the room? Just ah- yes Cory if you could swap and move to Daniel’s seat that would be spectacular.”

There’s some very awkward shuffling as Danny and Cory swap seats, everyone’s eyes still drawn towards Danny like a moth to a flame.

“Thank you gentlemen, now seeing as Danny has, ah, provided us with an alternative light source for this period, let us all focus back on our tests. If you wouldn't mind staying after class, Danny, I do have some questions.”

“Heh,” snickering from the back of the class where he know Dash and Kwan commanded the football team like kings at a court, “I guess you could call Fenton a fleshlig-“

“Finish that sentence mr. Baxter, and you will find yourself staying after class for the rest of the week.” All movement in the back stops just as suddenly as if they had been frozen to their seats, “and you know Coach Telestaff is strict in her requirements to be at practices lest you not be put on the field.”

“I ahm, uh,” Danny is fidgeting from all the attention thrust upon him. He glances towards his friends who are giving furious little gestures under their desks that Edward pretends he can’t see, “I accidentally ate ectoplasm last night!”

Well, he had been going to discuss this privately, but teens so rarely wanted to stand out from their peers. Maybe he hoped explaining now meant he could leave when class was over.

“Yeah!” Danny sounds more confident as his story builds as he speaks, “my dad was trying out this new recipe from my mom’s sister, and I think he forgot he and my mom were working on one of their weapons earlier that evening and accidentally coated the entire thing in ectoplasm. But! It should go away on its own soon! Shouldn’t last more than a day!”

“Ok, thank you for your explanation, now if everyone could get back to their tests…”

As his students calm down and return to their tests a low hum slowly makes itself known over the shuffling of feet and scratching of pencils.

It is, not dissimilar to the sound of a content cat, in Edward’s experience. Looking out again he can see a small smile grace Daniel’s face as the other students calm around him.

But what does he know, it’s probably just the vents.

[flamingpudding]

Part 3 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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Feral brother of mine

When Damien first saw the video from Todd's helmet he only thought of his older brother as an imbecile that apparently couldn't handle children that was until Drake paused the video on the child's face before the video cut off.

Then Richard pointed out the similarities to Damien and of course his first thought was that his mother had made another clone again that they would need to dispose of. That was until he took a closer look at the image when Drake zoomed in. It was still blurry but Damien would recognise that face anywhere and in any state.

Despite his memory being faded it was the face of someone he never wanted to forget and would let freely hunt his dreams. Even if it was to recall the good times or even the bad times through nightmares. Freckles that mirrored constellations and scar by the ear from a training session when the others' dodging ability had not yet been up to par when they were five. Hair longer than his own and less tameable.

Danyal Al Ghul.

His twin that he killed at the age of eight when their grandfather forced them into a fight to death. This was not a simple clone of Damien himself and the teen was pretty sure that his mother must have lost it. Because what else then a clone of his own brother could this be, she probably must have preserved some of Danyal's DNA if not his entire body for this. He must also applaud her cruelty, for the clone was at the exact age his brother had died at.

He does not know why nor how his mother had managed to cause glowing Lazarus green eyes. None of his clones had ever shown these before but a part of him didn't want to know. It already made him sick enough to know that his mother would go so far as to clone Danyal.

All he wanted was to get rid of this cruel clone that wore his long dead brother's face. The knowledge of his brother was something Damien held dear. It was something that belonged to him only and the burden of his death was not something he ever wanted to share either. Besides what use would it be to his family to mourn a member they never would have gotten to meet.

Even as he glared at Todd, who had let loose the feral clone. He could not bring himself to tell them that this was most likely not just a simple clone of himself.

"Come on guys, there is a child running around the Bat Cave. You can fight later about how to safely keep the boy in check."

Clicking his tongue he turned away from his older siblings and drew out his katana. "<tt> I will get rid of that thing myself."

A thing, that was what it was. Damien didn't need his personal feelings or his memories of a twin that could smile brighter than the desert sun despite their pain, get in the way of his rationality. He could not allow this mockery of his twin brother to live on.

He went for the darker areas of the Cave knowing the league trained mind and he was in luck as he was the first to find the feral child hidden away in the area that lead to the medbay. By now the thing was even armed. Damien recognised the dagger as one of his training once, he probably had accidentally left it out of its casing after training right before patrol.

The ex-league prodigy did not give the clone time to react as he attacked without warning. Chasing it through the Bat Cave as it avoided his attacks yet made no move to attack him the way it had Todd. At times the way it dodged made Damien stutter slightly something that never happened before. He slashed at it, ignoring his siblings that shouted for him to stop from the side lines. Ignoring the flashes in his mind of a fight years ago that was similar yet so different.

"I will not let this mockery run free." He muttered pointing his blade as it hissed at him in return. What a feral thing it was, he waited for it to make the first move this time. Clones were not perfect, their forms were lacking, They might retain skills of their original but they rarely were the same let alone cable of thinking outside of what their creator, his mother wanted. He pointedly ignored anything he new about certain clones. They weren't created by his mother, therefore did not count in regards to his conclusion. Yet it was painful seeing this mockery of his dead brother appearing like a perfect copy.

The stance it held with the dagger, despite the feral hissing and movements, it was the exact same his brother had. Sword stances, like martial arts stances had a basic form, every wielder learned and then developed further into their own unique one with time. Danyal had one where he tended to hold the dagger or even swords backwards in his left hand while his right arm covered his empty side with a slight tilt to the back, always ready to reach for any weapon he would carry in hidden pockets on his back.

It was painful to see this clone, this thing mimicking his brother's stand this perfectly. Damien could only narrow his eyes in determination, or was it desperation by now? This was just one more reason to get rid of it. It just hurt even more when with a quick gaze towards the hand that held the dagger Damien also noticed a bad habit his brother had always retained and the league had also never been able to train out of him. It was a small habit, unnoticeable if you wouldn't look for it, yet dangerous to the sword / dagger wielder if they were inexperienced.

Danyal tended to let his thumb rest against the guard if the blade had one or against the blade itself even if it didn't have one. He knows that his twin used to have scaring on his thumb from this habit, especially from their early training years.

This thing was even imitating his brother's habit.

He wanted it gone. Rip it apart and present it to his mother with all the anger and grief it brought to him.

"Guys stop Damien now! That is not a clone!" He heard Drake yell from where the Batcomputer was but he didn't care. This was a clone, so he lunged at the it again. Ignoring how the clone had studied him like he had it. Ignoring how its stance had changed the longer they had watched each other and how that thing let its guard down all of a sudden.

"Damien! Stop!"

It dropped all defenses and Damien could only see that as his chance to deal the final blow to get rid of it. But what he didn't expect despite the dropped defenses was for the clone to also just drop the dagger, close its eyes and smile. The same smile that still hunted his nightmares. His mind flashed back to eight years ago.

"Demon brat! Calm the fuck down!"

The blade stopped inches from the same fatal placement that had killed his brother before. Drake and Richard were right behind him while Todd was by the clone's side gripping at the blade with his bare hands, most likely bleeding already.

"Why?" Damien uttered quietly, his eyes trained on the thing. Richard must have thought that his question had been directed towards them stopping him but that wasn't the case.

"Look Dami, how about listening to what Tim found out first before we decide what to do with that child?"

"Not you." He couldn't help but snap back at them as he withdrew his katana, hearing Todd mutter something about sharp blades and bandaids as well as several curses under his breath. His eyes stayed on the thing. "Why would you let me kill you? Why drop your defence ces? Why not dodge?"

The thing titled its head its glowing green eyes were trained on Damien and he noticed how they flickered into a blue that was so familiar yet so different with the way they glowed. It made chirping noises before it whispered something.

"ahbak, Dami"

Damien froze for a moment there at the quiet words the thing had whispered. How was he supposed to react now? Was this even a clone, no he knew this was a clone. There was no way Danyal was alive let alone still eight years old. He had killed his own brother, he had held him in his own arms as Danyal took his final breath, smiling at him and uttering the same words he had just heard again after so many years.

Even if Danyal had survived somehow then he should be the same age as him. Not the age he had died at. Besides, their grandfather would have never allowed them to use the pits to revive his twin.

"FUCK!"

Intentionally or not Todd's outcry had ripped him out of his thoughts by a rather pathetic yowl of pain. It was like a switch had been flipped in the clone's mind as his brother had reached out to probably detain it again. The moment Todd had touched him, the thing had bitten into his hand before letting go, hissing and running away from them once more.

But instead of running after that thing Damien stood frozen in place, his mind still racing. He could feel Richard's hands on his shoulders, grounding the teenager with the warmth they provided. "You okay there Baby Bird? You seem rather out of it suddenly."

"<tt> I am fine." His only offered answer, ignoring the worried looks he was getting as he moved to wipe Todd's blood off his blade. He needed a distraction before his mind became any more chaotic and unreasonable. "What did Drake find out?"

"Right… you sure you want to hear that right now?" Giving Richard an unimpressed stare, the oldest sighed looking over towards Drake.

"Well I got good news and probably bad news." Side eyeing his brother Damien kept silent waiting for him to continue.

"I can safely say that the child is not a clone. His DNA does not 100% match yours. It differs too much but - and this is where it's probably bad news - it matches with you to 45%, with a matching to Bruce to about 50%, same with Talia. If I run a paternity test I am sure it would be a hit for Bruce and Talia."

Damien swallowed taking in that information, knowing what it meant. Was he horrified? Yes. Did it also awaken a strange sort of hope? Also, Yes.

"But there was a third compartment of the child's DNA structure which was impossible to test. It could even corrupt DNA samples if not taken apart from the rest. It probably has something to do with the green specs I found in his blood too. So I ran a substance analysis and - you probably won't like this - but it got a hit from a substance we have recorded in our database."

"What substance?" Damien knew, he just knew he wouldn't like the next words Drake would say. He could feel Richard squeezing his shoulder as if to help him keep stable.

"Lazarus Water. It matched with what we have recorded from the Lazarus Pits."

"Drake, are you telling me that after eight years, my mother who apparently had preserved my dead twin brother's body, dropped said body into the Lazarus Pits to revive him and then drop him off with Todd of all people?"

"Yes, wait… dead twin brother's body?"

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[little-pondhead]

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Capitulo 2

credit @brekitten @bucketorandomness @hermit-scribe-vibe for help and inspiracion :D

Danny clamped his teeth down on his kill, at last a fish big enough that to feed the both of them, and which hadn't escaped. Ear fins fanned out, he kept wary of approaching hums of boat engines.It could've been only a few minutes, but to Danny it was as if hours had passed. He'd already failed Damian once, and for his distraction he earned a new gash or two from his hunt.

Danny startled when he came back. Damian had not awoken just yet, but the transformation was complete. Dark green scales enveloped every inch of skin on his body, soft from youth. Spots of gold scales like freckles gathered around his cheeks, and at the base of each of his fins and transitioned into full golden membrane with the faintest red along the tips.

And of course, Damian had no legs, none at all, replaced by the thick sinew and muscles of a siren's tail. All of this Danny knew would happen, and expected, but he never thought about how tiny Damian looked at the moment.

From head to tailfin, Damian's new height (or length?) only equalled half of his human height. Siren children were small compared to humans, for sure, but even Youngblood was easily a head or two taller than Damian at this moment.

Before he could ruminate further, Damian's eyes shot open. Faster than Danny could blink, the new siren launched himself at Daniel with a piercing shriek of a war cry.

Damian's talons gripped onto Danny's scales, and his jaw snapped down upon his shoulder like a vice. Danny yelped and fell upon his back and bent his sail.

Damian's tiny hands wrapped around the elder boy's neck. His tiny young face twisted into an honestly shocking amount of anger and agression. His hackles rose and his fins stood at full attention.

"Where am I?! What have you done to me?! Return me to my original form or perish!" Damian spat out in hissed clicks and chirps. Despite the situation, Danny finds himself thinking he had to be really upset if he didn't even notice the change in voice.

"Answer me!" Damian hiss and bared his teeth. Danny gulped, which was difficult considering the tiny hands vice-gripping his neck. Suddenly he realised he'd never had to comfort a newly-turned before.

"H-hey hey hey now, there's no need to get all murderous over here!" That was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly there was a katana straight for his neck. "Where did you get that?!"

"From my clothes, you buffon, the clothes that you violently relieved me off. What other untoward things have you done with my body? Speak!"

"Look I didn't do anything untoward to your body I swear! I was trying to save you!"

"You mutilated me! You kidnapped me and drowned me and now you clain innocence with nothing to prove such a notion!" Damian's grip wavered for a moment, and Danny realised something. This kid was probalby scared out of his life, and his shouting wasn't helping anything. The smaller boy's gills flapped open. His breathing laboured, heavily.

"You need water. You're not gonna survive long.

"I can kill you long before that point." Gently, Danny picked the child up by the waist, his arms far outreaching the boy's tiny limbs. "Unhand my you psychotic murdering wretch!"

Horns blared in the distance. Damian's body seized up, his ear fins curling in on themselves in Danny's peripheral vision. "They've caught up to us."

"Good, now it means you can be put to justice and I reunited with my father."

Danny coiled his tail and pulled Damian against his chest, against the boy's protests. "The only thing they're gonna unite you with is a scalpel."

"I said unhand me!"

"No time!" Danny uncoiled like a spring and shot into the water. GiW agents shouted above the surface. Danny held him tight against his body. Motors roared into action and echoed through the water. Sonars rang in his ears. But they could never catch up to even a teenage siren.

Pain rocked up his arm. Danny loosed his grip, and Damian slipped out. After floundering for just a few seconds, Damian righted himself and bolted for the ships. The speed at which he made for the freaking GiW shocked Danny. This kid was a human less than an hour ago!

Shit. "Where the heck are you going?!" Danny shouted. He wasted precious seconds turning around and doubling back. "They're not gonna help you Damian!"

"You cannot fool me with your temptations, siren!" Daman spat out. Then he did the absolute worst thing. He surfaced.

Danny's heart sank again. No, no, not again. He pushed through as fast as he could. Damian shouted something above the water. An agent in cold sunglasses aimed a gun at him.

Damian seemed to realise his mistake. He tried to evade the attack, but his strange body just left him rolling over in place.

Danny's eyes glowed blue. Seawater froze into ice in his hands, and he tossed the spear over water. The spear landed an inch away from where the agent was standing. In his shock, he lowered his gun. Danny shot forward. He grabbed Damian's hand and pulled him away. Harpoons flew into the water. Danny ducked and weaved through all of them and full speed. Soon they were far behind the horizon.

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Beggin’

(Broadchurch) Alec Hardy x Reader

Synopsis: Alec has no concept of time and barges in Y/N’s house to investigate. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, face riding/sitting, oral sex (f receiving), slight praise, no beta we die like his heart

She'd just come out of the shower, hair up in a half hearted bun. Y/N was exhausted, the current case was on her mind. A murder, that was evident. The victim was an old woman in her home, a single gunshot to the chest and her house ransacked. But it didn't look right.

As she changed into some comfy short shorts and an oversized Elvis Presley t-shirt, she visualized the scene in her head. It just wasn't right. She remembered a little purple jewelry box up near the dresser, and it didn't appear to be opened. She made a mental note to check that out, along with the neighbors alibi and how sound could transfer in a duplex.

Of course she knew when she agreed to be a Detective Sergeant that it was going to be time consuming, that this career would become you to an extent. And she wanted that. After she accidentally stumbled into this career and saw her first scene, she knew that was what she wanted with her life. But she hadn't realized that that would mean when she does even the most basic functions, her brain would be so wholly preoccupied. She took her hair out, brushed her teeth, pulled the covers down then went to turn out the lights before climbing into them. And all throughout it, she was speculating about silencers and times of death.

Her head had barely hit the pillow before she heard a banging at her front door. She laid there for a moment, contemplating her options. It was either some tragedy has happened or some idiot come to hurt her. And quite frankly she knew she could hold her own. Y/N wasn't a fool, she wasn't going to go answer it without precaution. She quickly went and retrieved a bread knife from the kitchen before going to the door.

The knife was in position when she opened it. Instead of finding some craved criminal, or even some sobbing family member, she found her boyfriend/boss with a box of papers.

"Alec? It's one in the morning."

His eyes narrowed at the sight of her. He looked tired, but he did always look just a little tired. His hair was messed up and his beard just a touch scruffy.

"I don't trust Anderson."

"What?" She asked. He didn't answer as he walked into her house and deposited the box of files on her kitchen table. She didn't mind Alec coming over, hell she loved the chance to see him, but this was all a little unprompted for her.

"Y/N, didya get anything on Imogen Walker? I don't like her. I also don't like this bloke, who does he think he is? Fucking hell," Alec started pulling stuff out to work on.

Y/N wanted to protest, but she also knew that she wasn't going to get much sleep even if she tried. This was at least productive and she got to spend time with him. She grabbed a blanket from the living room, wrapped it around herself, and sat down at the table.

"Imogen has a few misdemeanors but nothing of this caliber, nothing that would suggest murder." She said, "As for Gary, he did have a stay in the hospital back in his twenties for mental illness. I requested the documents for the diagnosis and behavior during the stay but they probably won't come in until later today or tomorrow. I think you need to focus on her niece, her alibi is shaky at best."

If Y/N focused on DI Alec Hardy's face, she might have seen the shadow of a smile on his lips that he quickly hid with other possible motives and questions. He'd never say so, but he loved these moments. The times when he could share what he was truly passionate about with someone that he truly loved ... Those moments were the best. All he would need was Daisy cracking jokes in the corner for this moment to be complete.

It was long after the sun came up before Y/N finally decided to make some tea for the two of them. She told Alec who grumbled a one worded response she didn't bother to try and understand. Maybe it was Alec or the case, but she strangely wasn't tired. Her mind kept whirling with all the possibilities and she enjoyed the time with Alec.

"Y/N! Do you have the SOCO reports from the car in there?" Hardy called to her. "I need to call -"

He stopped, looking at her from above his glasses, his lips still perched out from his words that fell forgotten. She gave him a strange look, placing the two cuppas down on the table then passing him the SOCO report he'd wanted. Yet he still stared, didn't even bother to say a word. "Hardy?"

DI Alec Hardy was not a man of many words, but when he needed to use words he always had the right thing to say. Or at least he believed it to be the right thing to say. But now, in a moment when words would definitely be helpful, he had nothing. He just stared like a man gone wild. Y/N didn't even know what he was staring at, and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. Which drew extra attention.

"Alec? What're you looking at?"

He seemed to snap out of it, shoving his glasses up his nose and glancing back down at the paper. Y/N didn't know what to make of it, but thought perhaps he was exhausted. She pulled the kitchen chair to her, putting a leg on either side so she could rest her chest on the back of it while she read. And yet again, she looked up to see his warm brown eyes trapped on her and her body.

"Alec?" He didn't answer. "Alec! What's going on?"

Alec adjusted in his seat and said calmly, "nothing."

"Bull."

"Nothing is wrong. Can we continue?"

She felt silly for a moment, maybe she was exaggerating. Then she propped a leg on the chair and she saw his eyes wander again. Okay enough was enough. "Alec, what the hell?"

"Y/N-"

"Oh ho, don't Y/N me to try and get out of answering my question. What's got you looking at me at all weird?"

A pink started to spread on his cheeks and ears, but he looked away. No way, she thought. There's no way 'shitface' just blushed. Yes they'd been dating and she knew he was more than that nickname, but sometimes the occasion calling for it. Like when was blushing early in the morning for no reason, and she'd never seen him blush unless they were making love. Oh. Oh. Her eyes widened, and she felt a little smile on her lips. She stood up slowly, watching the way he tried to fight his gaze from following after.

"Alec, anything you want to tell me?" Y/N went and sat down on the edge of the table in front of him. He swallowed.

"Don't laugh."

"Darling, I would never laugh."

He rolled his eyes and looked away, not having the strength to say it while looking at her. He swiped his glasses off and groaned. "I... those shorts. I really like those shorts."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was not quite the answer she was expecting. "The shorts?"

"Your thighs, they... I like seeing them."

Her mouth fell open in a little o, adjusting her legs slightly as though thinking about them meant she had to move them. He likes her thighs, enough to distract him from work. Alec saw this reaction and immediately flushed darker, "you think I'm stupid."

"Gosh, no, no, no not at all," she said, "I just didn't know."

He still seemed embarrassed. Alec grabbed his glasses and shoved them back on his face, going to grab his work again. But Y/N felt bad, she certainly hadn't meant it like that, she would never shame him for something in the bedroom. She just wanted to know. And she found it very sweet that he found her so attractive. It made her feel sexy.

With a gentle touch she made him set his paper down. He looked with wide eyes. Y/N moved with slow, deliberate movements so Alec could take the time to digest it all. She carefully climbed onto his chair until her thighs were straddling him in his seat, though she hovered above him. She could see his adam's apple bob up and down as she placed her weight on him, leaning forward to take his glasses off. They were so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. She smiled, "hi."

His large hands came to rest on her thighs almost instinctively, squeezing the flesh there. From under her, she could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against his pants. It made her rock her hips just slightly to meet it. He let out a hiss, grip tightening. She quite liked him holding her there, the way he ran his hands down the length of her thighs with a tight grip. He cherished them.

"Y/N..." he murmured, eyes half shut as he lifted a hand to cup her jaw. She leaned in and captured his lips with her own, exploring the kiss and grinding against his hips as he branded her with his touch. She always loved the feeling of his kisses, the way he fell into her touch like it was instinctual. His jaw was always delightfully scratchy and she loved to run her fingers along his beard.

When they broke and their foreheads fell against each other, each gasping for breath, he spoke softly. "Darling.. I have a request."

Alec didn't often ask for much in the bedroom. Y/N certainly wasn't trying to prevent him, he just tended to stay quiet. So she pressed a soft kiss to his scratchy beard and nodded for him to continue. He swallowed nervously before continuing, "I've this fantasy. I've only had it for you."

Alec got embarrassed sometimes when talking about sex. Oh sure, he was great during the act. But he always treated any fantasies or ideas as something stupid and silly. But Y/N didn't think that, she wanted to make it pleasurable for the both of them. If he was willing to do things for her, then she would be willing to do things for him. In a voice that came out far huskier than she intended, she said, "I want to hear it."

"I, I want you to sit on my face."

Her eyebrows shot up and she pulled away to look at him, to check that was what he wanted. His flush got darker and he tried to turn away, but she grabbed his face before he could. The corner of her mouth quirked up, "Alec Hardy, even in your fantasies you want to go down on me. Are you sure that's what you want?"

He nodded vigorously, his gaze intense. She nodded an affirmation and got off, offering a hand for him to take as she guided him into the bedroom. "Tell me where you want us."

Alec nodded. He began to take off his clothing, tossing them on the chair in the corner. Then he got onto the bed near the headboard and told you to strip as well. Here came the part he got excited about, even if excited for Alec meant a pair of wild eyebrows lifted high.

Now naked, Y/N went from the edge of the bed and crawled up to him, showing off her assets. He took a deep shaking breath. She situated herself so her cunt was right above Alec's head, thighs already shaking slightly but she was determined to stay above. Then she felt his hands grab at the back of her thighs, pulling her down.

"Alec!" She squealed, "I can't! What if I hurt you?"

"Hurt you?" He asked in an incredulous way, as though the thought was the furthest thing from his mind. "How could you hurt me?"

"My weight on you.."

He answered what he believed to be a silly question with a silly answer, and dragged her down squarely on his mouth. She laughed a little as she settled, but his hot tongue on her clit was enough to distract her to silence. Well, not silence, but certainly not laughter.

This was a sensation unlike any she'd had. Alec had gone down on her before and it was bloody fantastic, she always left panting and delirious with pleasure. But this seemed to open a whole new wave of sensations. He came into it with a crazed intensity, yearning to taste every part of her he could. His touch was everywhere, hot as it skimmed over her skin and seared her. His lips were plush as they parted to let his tongue slide along her folds, tasting her. That delightful beard was going to cause a rash tomorrow morning but she didn't care as she rocked her hips to meet his tongue's ministrations.

She tasted like sweat and sex and everything good in the world, if he could bottle it up he would. Though in the back of his mind he knew Y/N worried about crushing him with her weight, it was that sensation of being fully engulfed by her that he was so attracted to. Those burning thighs were right by his head, holding him there and clenching with each stroke of pleasure. He held onto them tightly, letting her know just how much he enjoyed it. It was better than just regular oral, it was deeper and intimate. One look up at her was enough to make him shudder and hold her tighter. She looked like a goddess, head thrown back with those raspy little moans pouring from her. Her breasts heaved on her chest, begging to be touched. If he died then and there, with the image of her above him, he'd die a very happy man.

Y/N gasped his name over and over, rolling her hips and meeting his expert tongue. He was everywhere, scorching all of her. Alec’s touch was making her dizzy with pleasure and if she wasn’t careful she’d never leave her spot here. That coil inside of her started to tighten, twisting as tingles were sent all throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm coming, tightening and tightening until with a sobbing gasp she came on Alec Hardy’s tongue.

He never stopped for one second, just lapping at her oversensitive clit until he could feel her coming down from her high. Then he adjusted, helping guide her down his body so he was sitting and she was straddling him. She melted against his chest, head in the crook between his shoulder and neck, breaths uneven.

“Oh my god,” she said finally.

Alec kissed her forehead and rubbed her back, “thank you, darling.”

She gave him a thumbs up, “you tell me all your fantasies, love, because holy fuck.”

Alec nodded, “duly noted.”

“Shut up,” she said, burying her face deeper into him with a smile.

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

(Un)dead beat dad (Chapter 2)

This is a long one, so be prepared :) part 1 chap 3

TW: ref to violence, surgical operations, gore, panic attacks, please tell me anything I missed :)

Alfred feels his personal phone vibrate in his pocket, he stopped dusting the already-clean dresser, lifting the phone to his face knowing that only a select few had his contact information. He stared at the number he had long since memorized for a second before opening the message.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Alfie, I need help

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Is anyone else home right now

No, Master Jason, I’m afraid everyone is on patrol at the moment. :You

May I ask why? :You

XXX-XXX-XXXX: perfect

XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you grab some med supplies and meet me in the Batcave?

Alfred stared at the phone and sighed. Setting down the feather duster he was holding, he walks towards the grandfather clock and enters the Batcave. He feels another vibration in his pocket and reaches for his phone.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: could you not tell B? Or anyone else?

XXX-XXX-XXXX: please?

Of course, Master Jason. I Will have everything ready for you when you get here. :You

XXX-XXX-XXXX: your a lifesaver, Alfie

Unfortunately, I am well aware. :You

Alfred chuckled as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, continuing to gather more medical supplies for Jason. Alfred had finally finished setting up quite literally everything he could, when he heard Jason's bike come into the cave. It turned off and he could hear quick running footsteps toward himself. Alfred turned and walked until he could spot Jason, seeing him in his full red hood regalia (omitting) the mask. What really caught his attention, though, was the child in his arms, looking to be seven at the oldest. 

“Oh? You failed to mention we were having a guest.” Alfred said, quickly leading Jason toward the medical supplies. Once he turned the corner into the faux medical room though, he heard the sounds of struggle behind him. Alfred turned around, seeing the small boy thrashing in Jason's arms, trying to get away from the room. Jason immediately turned his back to the door and placed the child on the floor, softly talking to the child, words Alfred could not hear. The room clearly upset the child, so Alfred nearly closed the door, keeping it just barely open, but closed enough that the boy couldn’t see inside. 

Jason turned around and motioned to Alfred, “This, Danny, Is my grandfather I mentioned. His name is Alfred, he patches me up whenever I get hurt a little too bad.” The small boy had tear tracks on his eyes and darted them towards Alfred, scanning him, threat assessing. The boy was scared. Alfred put on his nicest smile and lowered himself to his knees like his grandson.

“Indeed. I have had to patch up the young master quite a few times. I have patched up others as well. I assume The young master brought you to me for medical attention?” Alfred said in a soft voice, he didn’t wish to scare the child after all. The boy simply nodded his head and scanned the rest of the cave. The boy looked at Jason and pursed his lips. “You clearly need attention but are unwilling to go into the medical bay. Would you prefer I tend to your wounds out here in the main cave instead?”

The boy looked to Jason, searching Jason's eyes. After seemingly finding what he was searching for, he turned his head back towards Alfred. Still gripping tightly onto Jason's shirt, the boy nodded his head. Jason turned his head slightly towards Alfred and smiled. Jason looked back down at the boy and smiled, talking to him softly again.

“Alfred's going to have to assess your injuries if that's okay with you? So he knows what to grab and what to leave?” Jason said in a soft voice. The boy stared at Alfred again for a moment, Alfred felt like something was staring at him. Judging him. Deciding whether he should live or die. Deciding whether he would spend eternity suffering or in paradise. Then suddenly, as if it was never there in the first place, the feeling was gone. Alfred simply smiled and got to his feet once again, slowly walking towards the two in front of him under the young boy's gaze. Alfred stopped just beside Jason and lowered himself to the floor again.

“Now, could I get a name, young sir?” Alfred said with a smile, internally frowning at the ever-growing stain of blood on the boy's shirt that was several sizes too big. The boy looked at the ground for a moment, glancing back at Jason for a moment once more before muttering under his breath, his voice so scratchy and quiet you can't hear him. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Alfred said to the young boy.

The boy thought for a second, then lifted one of his hands and shakily signed out some letters. ‘D. A. N. N. Y.’ It was clear the boy hadn’t used sign much but knew enough to communicate. The other hand still tightly wound inside Jason's jacket.

Alfred smiled at him, “Alright then Master Danny, would it be alright if I removed your shirt and assessed your wounds?” The boy took a careful step back and looked at Jason again, tightening his hold on the masked man. Jason placed a careful hand on the kid's back and smiled. 

“I’ll be right here Danny, okay? And if you want to take a minute then we can stop and wait. We just want to make sure that you’re okay.” Jason said in a soft voice again. The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He nodded and laid down on the ground on his back, tugging on Jason’s jacket and clenching his other hand tightly. Danny let out a small pained breath and stuck his empty arm up above his head. Alfred carefully lifted the boy's shirt from him, letting out a gasp as he saw what was causing all the blood, Jason's eyes flashing a violent green. The boy underneath him flinched at the gasp and opened his eyes, scanning the two adults above him in panic, letting go of Jason and using his legs to scoot himself back, one of his arms pushing him faster backward, the other holding his organs in. Danny’s breathing picked up as his pupils dilated, the temperature in the cave decreasing rapidly as frost formed underneath him.

Alfred was the one to recover first, lowering himself further and turning his hands up, showing he wasn’t a threat. He let a small smile on his face, speaking softly to the child in front of him, “It’s perfectly alright Master Danny. I apologize for reacting as I did, I was a little shocked. I mean no harm and simply want to help you,” Alfred said with a smile. 

Jason recovered next, seeing the scared child in front of him. Jason had closed his eyes while Alfred was talking to calm himself down. Jason looked at the kid in front of him, “It’s okay Danny, I promise you we won't hurt you,” Jason said with a smile. The boy in front of him was still rapidly breathing, and Jason thought about what he had learned in (elephant??) and looked at the boy again. “Okay, Danny, You’re having a panic attack and we’re gonna need you to calm down, right? Can you tell me five things you can see?” 

Danny looked like he was barely registering the words, Jason thought the boy wasn’t able to hear him until the boy’s eyes flipped around the cave, focusing on each thing for a second before flipping to the next. Jason. Alfred. Shirt. Bat. Floor. Jason smiled at the boy.

“Alright Danny, next, four things you can feel.” Jason said with a smile, scooting closer to Danny.

Danny had moved one of his arms, feeling around him. Floor. Pants. Hair. Blood.

“You’re doing amazing Danny, next, three things you can hear.” Jason scooted closer again.

Danny closed his eyes, focusing. Bats. Jason's Heartbeat. Computer beeping.

“Fantastic Danny, Two things you can smell.” Jason closed the distance but sat just to the side of Danny.

Danny kept his eyes closed but took a shaky breath, still recovering from the heavy breathing. Wet cave. Sweat.

“Good job Danny, now finally, one thing you can taste.” Jason carefully placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny flinched but it wasn’t as hard as it had been.

Danny took a second and bit down. Blood.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Jason, nodding his shaking head. Jason smiled down at him.

“It’s okay Danny. We don’t judge you and we won’t hurt you, I promise.” Jason told Danny. The small boy, however, still looked nervous, ready to bolt at the nearest sign of a threat. Jason glanced at Alfred and sighed. Jason reached down and pulled up his shirt, staring at Danny, “you know how I said Alfred helps me? He really does patch me up.” Jason lied, motioning to the large Y-shaped scar on his chest. Danny visibly relaxed, he was still definitely on edge, but hey, progress. Jason looked at the boy in front of him. “Would it be alright if we patched you up now?”

Danny looked at Alfred and nervously nodded his head.

“Master Danny, It seems I’ll have to sew you up. Do you know your tolerance for anesthesia?” Alfred calmly asked the boy. 

Danny nodded his head ‘yes’, but stopped for a moment. He shook his head ‘no’ and slowly signed with his free hand, ‘doesn’t work.’

“They don’t work on you?” Alfred asked Danny, who only shook his head again, “Do you know why, Master Danny?” Danny seemed to open his mouth for a moment, then nodded his head, glancing at the floor.

Jason took a moment to feel the temperature of the room around him. He straightened with a realization. The temperature drops. The green-red mixed blood. The stranger in his apartment. The boy agreeing to being a king. The vivisection dissection scar “Go on and get the stuff Alfie, I’ll hang back,” Jason smiled.

Alfred seemed to think for a split second, then stood up with a grunt and nodded his head. “As you wish, Master Jason.” Alfred said, walking towards the medical room.

Jason turned towards the small boy next to him, gently pushing the boy back onto the floor, taking off his jacket and folding it, placing it behind the kid's head. “You're a meta, aren’t you kid,” Jason said with a smile. Danny immediately stiffened and looked at Jason, his eyes flashing into slits for a moment, lip curling to show off the boy's sharp fangs.

Jason smiled sadly and flipped his hands up, showing he had no weapon, “I don’t have anything against meta’s okay? My brother’s a meta himself, and I’ve been on some great teams with them. I promise you Alfie doesn’t care either, and it won’t make us treat you any differently. You need help, that’s the focus here.” the boy visibly relaxed, still tense but not as much. At that moment Alfred walked out and towards them again.

“Alright Master Danny, First I must clean the wound and around it so I may see what I am doing.” Alfred said, clearly saying what he is doing before doing it so Danny would be less freaked out. 

Above him, Jason grabbed Danny's hand, squeezing it lightly once. Danny squeezed back. 

Alfred crouched down again, taking a wet rag from the bowl of water previously in his hands. He wrung out the towel and looked at Danny’s eyes for confirmation before carefully wiping Danny's chest. Alfred and Jason’s anger grew with every injury hidden by the blood, though Alfred was better at hiding it. Whenever Alfred got especially close to the bleeding dripping skin flaps, Danny squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Jason’s hand tighter. Alfred had to change the water in the bowl a few times, a horrible brown from the mixing of the green and red covering Danny.

Eventually, it was time for the stitches, but before he could get to that, he needed to staple the wound shut.

“Young master Danny, You are a meta, yes?” Alfred asked in a soft voice. Danny nervously nodded his head ‘yes’. “Alright then. Some meta’s cant use anesthetics, are you one of them?” Danny nodded again, “So I’m afraid I’ll have to stitch you up as-is, though first I will have to staple the wound shut.” another (albeit shaky) nod.

Alfred stood and grabbed a weird white tool from the medical room. He sat down on his knees and pinched Danny's skin together, glancing at Danny, “This will hurt, but I will takeit out once I get to stitches.” Alfred lowered the machine and squeezed the handle, a medical staple sliding through Danny’s skin and pulling it closed. Danny whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and gabbing Jason's hand tighter. Jason placed his free hand on Danny’s shoulder in a comforting motion. Alfred lifted the machine once more and placed it at another section of the large messy cut on Danny’s chest, squeezing again. And again. And again, going up and pulling the skin together. Finally, when he was finished, Salty tears had formed On Danny’s face, rolling down into little puddles on the floor of the Batcave. Alfred sighed and placed the machine on a tray he grabbed earlier from the medical room. Alfred lifted a small white package and ripped it open, pulling the sutures from the small bag. Alfred pulled open another package containing a needle and started to thread the needle then stopped when Danny tugged on Alfred's sleeve, gaining the man's attention.

“Yes, young master Danny?” Alfred asked, stalling in his movements.

Danny lifted his hand and pointed to the thread, signing ‘Won’t work’. Alfred looked at him questioningly, Danny slowly pulled his hand away from Jason and reached into the pocket too far down his leg, and pulled out a spool of… Fishing line. 

“Fishing line?” Jason asked, confused.

Danny flushed, his hand's stilling as he thought up an excuse ‘will work’ Danny gestured to the line and pushed it towards Alfred, who took it happily.

“Ah, I see. Well then, I’ll get started right away, please alert me if anything is wrong.” Alfred smiled and sat himself down more comfortably on the floor of the Batcave. He laced the thread through the needle and placed it above the cuts, starting at Danny’s left collarbone. He looked up at Danny and caught his eyes.

Jason seemed to catch on, and nudged Danny slightly with his hand, silently holding it palm-up, Danny quickly grabbed it and lightly squeezed. Jason squeezed back. Alfred placed another machine in Jason’s free hand. “Use this to remove the staples as I stitch Danny’s chest closed.” Jason gulped, nodding. Jason carefully removed the first staple and the boy on the ground squeezed Jason's hand again, whimpering once more. Jason's heart lurches and the grip on his hand tightened. Jason looked away from the boy's face again and saw the needle in Danny’s chest. Jason dropped the used staple onto a small metal platter and brought the machine back up to Danny's chest, preparing to take out the next staple. Danny squeezed Jason's hand tight again with every staple removed, and with every stitch added. Really tight. Fuck. Jason might need to wrap his hand. This kid is definitely a meta. Alfred got down to the intersection of the three large cuts, he glanced up at Danny to check if he was okay, and Alfred's heart squeezed at the sight. The boy had his eyes screwed tightly shut and tears leaking out of them, whimpering at the pain. Alfred had to go faster. He started stitching from the start of the cut at the bottom of Danny's sternum, barely above his belly button, Jason taking out staples as they went up. This part seemed to be especially sensitive, Danny squeezing Jason's hand a bit tighter, and Jason swears he can feel his bones grinding but he won’t say anything. No, he can’t, not when the kid needs someone to be strong.

Alfred gets back to the top and lets out a sigh, tying off the suture. “Young Danny, I need to move to your other side in order to finish your stitches. If I may, Master Hood?” Alfred asked, looking at Jason. Jason needed a moment to think, before he stumbled, standing up and walking to Danny's other side. Danny was still holding Jason's hand tightly, and only let go when Jason grabbed Danny’s free one. Jason and Alfred sat down once more. 

“Only one more set of stitches, okay kid?” Jason said in a soft voice, smiling down at the kid next to him. The kid nodded his head shakily. Alfred inserted the needle again and Danny let out a shaky breath, more salty glowing tears silently flowing down his face. The silence was thick as ever, only the occasional breath sucked in from Danny when the stitches hit an overly sensitive spot. Alfred finally finished, tying off the last of the stitches, when Jason got an idea.

“You said that everyone else was on patrol, right?” Jason asked, looking up towards Alfred again. 

“Yes, master Hood. Everyone else is gone at the moment. Why do you ask?” Alfred questioned.

“I have an idea. Tell Dam- uh, Robin I’ll pay him back. Hey kid, will you be okay with Alfie if I run upstairs for a minute and grab something?” Jason looked to the child.

Danny glanced at Alfred and nodded. Jason moved to get up but Danny tugged him back down gently.

“I’ll be back right away, Danny, okay?” Jason asked. Danny looked nervous. Jason squeezed Danny’s hand slightly. Danny squeezed back. Jason flashed Danny a small smile and stood again, walking towards the entrance to the mansion, glancing back at Danny every few seconds. 

“Well, master Danny, I have two more things to do to help speed up the healing process. I need to add a drain for the excess fluid your body produces and a vacuum pump to help your wound heal faster, the pump will also prevent you from picking at your wound.” Alfred smiled, “First, I will add the drain sponge,” Alfred spoke as he worked, clearly saying what he was doing as to not alarm the boy while Jason was gone. “Then, I will add surgical tape on top and connect the tube. This will run to a small vacuum to suction up any of the excess fluids your body doesn't need.”

Danny clutched tightly onto his pants, counting in his head, happy that Alfred was saying everything aloud. Danny could feel the devices being added to him as Alfred spoke, so Danny didn’t need to worry much. Alfred finished with that and sat back.

“Okay master Danny, one last thing, a drain. This will remove some blood and other fluids from the inside. All I need to do is make a small incision-” Alfred was cut off by Danny’s eyes snapping open, wide and glowing Lazarus green. Danny started to sit up in a panic, groaning at the pain but nonetheless pushing himself backward again. “Master Danny, it is nothing to worry about, I assure you everything will be okay-” Alfred was cut off once again, this time by the sound of something hitting the floor. Jason was standing there, small-sized clothes at his feet as he stared at the Lazarus green eyes of the kid in front of him. A small “fuck” Made it’s way out of Jason as he stood there. Danny saw the look at started scrambling to get further back, knocking over various tools and materials as he did so, nearing the edge. 

“Kid- Danny, hey, it’s okay. Everything going to be fine.” Jason soothed, crouching down.

The boy sat his weight on his elbows as he looked furiously between the two adults in front of him. He tried to speak but only a wheezed cough of air came out, making him curl in on himself. Jason thought for a moment, then had an idea. A stupid, idiotic, dumbassed Idea, but an idea nonetheless. Jason furrowed his eyebrows together and thought about Batman. About the joker. About the rogues. About his mother. About who hurt the boy. About who hurt Danny and left him to rot.  Jason’s eyes flashed a violent green while the boy was looking his way. Danny visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar green.

“What’s got you so worked up, kid?” Jason asked with an eerie calm in his voice, the green fading slowly. Danny looked nervous, scared even, directing his attention back at Alfred.

“The young master panicked when I mentioned adding a drainage tube to his wound. Specifically the,” Alfred lowered his voice and faced Jason, “Specifically the cutting part of the insertion.”

Jason made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and grabbed the clothes at his feet.

“Well, Danny, I’ll be right here with you while you get the tube. And, you’ll get to see the clothes I brought once we’re finished with the tube.” Jason sat down next to Alfred.

‘Hurt? Again?’ Danny signed with wide eyes

Jason let out a soft sigh, “Yeah, it's gonna hurt, but if we don’t do this you could get hurt more in the long term. I promise you, Danny, I’ll be here with you the entire time.” Jason smiled at the boy. 

Danny looked between Jason and Alfred for a moment before slowly nodding and starting to scoot closer to the two. Jason stands up and carefully picks up Danny, walking him back to Alfred. Alfred let out a small exasperated sigh and smiled at the small boy.

“This will be fast, master Danny, no need to worry. The incision is barely 5 mm wide, very small,” Alfred said with a smile. He grabbed an anti-septic wipe and started wiping down a small portion of Danny’s abdomen, as Danny lifted an open palm towards Jason again. Jason happily took Danny’s hand. 

Alfred placed a piece of the tube into Jason's free hand and picked up a scalpel and held it above Danny’s stomach, clanging up to see Danny staring hard at Jason, squeezing his hand tightly. Alfred placed his hand on Danny's stomach to prepare him and lowered the scalpel into Danny's skin. Danny let out a deep drawn-out wine from his core and clenched his eyes tightly, squeezing Jason's hand again. Alfred let out a sad sigh and dragged the scalpel, just barely, and then lifted it away from the small cut. He set the scalpel back down on the tray, grabbing the tubing from Jason’s hand. Alfred inserted the tubing and slid it through until it was at the right spot, then grabbed a new needle and added more of the fishing line to it. He sewed the tubing into Danny's skin and attached a small bulb-looking plastic piece to the end. He sighed and looked up toward Danny to find more glowing tears running down Danny’s face, his lip tainted with red, Danny must have bit his lip when Alfred was inserting the tube.

“That is all, master Danny. I just need to wrap your chest in gauze, and then you will be finished.” Alfred said with a small smile. Danny sharply nodded his head, eyes still screwed shut. Alfred sighed, turning to Jason, “Could you lift up master Danny while I wrap his chest? I don’t wish to strain him.” 

Jason nodded his head, scooting around behind Danny and placing his hands below Danny's back, slowly lifting him up and placing the young boy’s torso on his lap. Jason looked down at the small boy, really looking at him. Jason motioned for Alfred to hand him one of the cleansing wipes from the tray Alfred had brought out earlier. Alfred handed it to him, and Jason started wiping away the dirt and blood on Danny’s face. The boy beneath him visibly relaxed when he realized it was Jason who was wiping his face. Jason carefully wiped down Danny’s face, noticing when Danny had flinched and to be careful around the boy's eyes and mouth. It took Jason three wipes when he finally got Danny’s face fully cleaned off. Jason had stilled once he finished. The boy looked just like a younger version of himself. The boy had slightly sunken-in cheeks, cuts and scrapes all over his face, and that look of pure desperation that etched itself into Jason’s bones years ago. It was right then, no definitely not earlier when the boy searched Jason's soul with his eyes and deemed Jason safe Jason realized this boy couldn’t, wouldn’t, go back to where he was before.

“Master Jason,” Alfred gained Jason's attention and that's when Jason realized that Alfred had somehow finished the gauze wrap around Danny’s chest. Danny opened his eyes, showing Jason the icy blue Jason saw in his own eyes. Jason sucked in a breath and looked up at Alfred, “A word, if I may?” Jason looked down at Danny for approval, and then slowly stood up, making sure Danny was comfortable on the ground. Jason walked around the corner out of sight of Danny and looked at Alfred.

“What's up, Alfie?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know where you found the boy, master Jason, but he cannot go back.” Alfred said in a stern voice Jason only heard when one of the family came home with an especially bad wound. Jason was angered at that comment, though.

“I know that Alfred. Obviously, no matter where he came from he isn’t going back.” Jason said in a huff of anger. He ran his hand through his hair and looked to the floor, each of them standing there in silence, until Alfred brought forth an idea.

“Maybe, master Bruce can take care of master Danny until further notice?” Alfred asked. 

Jason's head snapped up, “Absolutely not,” Jason snapped, “I will be taking care of Danny.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred started

“No, Alfred. I found the boy, I brought him here,” Jason said quickly, Alfred stood there looking as if Jason had cut him off. He had. Yet Jason continued, “I’m the one that sat by him while you stitched him up, I’m the one that held his hand while he cried, and I will be the one to take care of him.” Jason finished.

Alfred waited for a moment while Jason calmed down, “I was hoping you would say that master Jason. I fully support this decision, as it seems he has decided to trust you and you have already formed an attachment to him.”

“Oh…” Jason stood there for a moment, face flushed red with embarrassment, “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that Alfie,”

“No need to apologize master Jason. Protecting yourself and your child is what makes a good parent.” Jason bluescreened at the word parent, “Now, master Jason, I suggest you get your son into his new clothes and get him home. Shall we?” Alfred smiled as he turned Jason around and pushed him back to where the child was.

Key word: was.

Alfred and Jason immediately rushed forward, frantically looking around for where to find the boy, where could he have gone in such a short amount of time? They both rushed around, desperately trying to find the boy that was in the middle of the floor just moments ago. They each took off in different directions, searching for him. Jason was the one to find him, though. He was sitting against the display case of Jason's former robin costume. Jason walked closer to get a better look and saw the boy was falling asleep, fading in and out of consciousness. Jason walked closer to the boy and sat down in front of Danny, and in front of his old Robin costume. Jason cleared his throat, and said the boy's name, waking Danny.

“Hey Danny, what are you doing here? At this case?” Jason asked, nervous.

Danny looked at Jason sleepily, and opened his mouth to speak, but croaked out empty words instead. He furrowed his brows and lifted up his hands to sign, ‘familiar’.

Jason chuckled, “Yeah, pretty familiar to me too.” Danny smiled “Do you mind if I pick you up and bring you back to where we were before? I have some clothes more your size,” Jason said, Danny sleepily nodded his head and held his arms out. Jason chuckled and kneeled down, picking up Danny beneath his knees and shoulders in a bridal carry. 

Jason make his way back to where they were, seeing Alfred on his way, blushing when Alfred smiled sweetly at him. He wasn’t a dad! He just found a kid in need, and is taking care of him! There's nothing else going on, the kid is just under Jason's supervision until Jason can find a better place for him! No adoption going on here, no sir.

“Hey Danny, I grabbed these, they’ll still be a bit big on you but they’ll be better than the clothes you're wearing right now,” Jason said, bending down to grab the clothes with one of his hands, walking towards the bathroom Bruce built in the Batcave for when he went on one of his ‘staying down in the cave for three days straight’ escapades. Jason walked in and closed the door behind them, placing Danny down on the clean floors. 

“Hey kid I'm gonna change your clothes real fast, okay?” Jason asked, the kid sleepily nodded at Jason, still seconds away from falling asleep. Jason huffed out a laugh and unfolded the clothes the grabbed from Damian's room, the smallest he could find. Jason quickly switched out Danny’s clothes, careful to not disturb the bandages and other tubes sticking out of Danny’s chest and stomach. Jason grabbed Danny's old bloody clothes and tossed them into the trash, walking out of the bathroom with Danny carefully placed on his hip. Alfred approached Jason and Danny.

“Ready to go so soon, master Jason?” Alfred said with a smile.

“Yeah, I think we are. By the way Alfred,” Jason stared at Alfred with an intense shine in his eye, “Not a word, of this to B.” 

Alfred chuckled, “Yes, of course, master Jason. Young master Danny is a secret safe with me. However, If master Bruce figures it out on his own, I will not lie to him.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Alfred,” Jason said with a smile, then he thought for a second, “Well I would, but I would never expect you to uphold it.”

Alfred chuckled, “Of course. And, remember to change master Danny’s bandages daily, clean the tubes for his drainers, and massage his legs about every hour or so to make sure he doesn't lose circulation. Master Danny should make a full recovery in about 8 weeks. I am positive you will be able to care for him in that time.” Alfred said with a smile.

Jason smiled back at Alfred, walking over to his motorcycle. He stepped over the back and sat Danny in front of him, tucked tightly into his chest as he started his bike. Jason turned around and smiled at Alfred once more, and started the slow, careful ride back to his apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How we feelin my roaches? Sorry for the late chapter but i passed all my classes! also happy holidays, the next chapter might be delayed too cause my grandma died two hours ago, but know the next chapter is being written! Anyways I hope you all cried <3

Tag list: @starkcravingmad @terzatheunderscorerima @sunsetdew0101 @onyxlightdragon @ace-aro-agender @roseinbloom02 @aikoiya @blacksea21090 @the-legal-shipper @paperlicense687 @cursedchaosboys @corfinnsunrise @ascetic-orange @eonic @frostedthroughghost @readerkayden @reach-for-the-horizon @xno-more-smilesx @undead-essence @bluebeariis @chaoticchange @cloudminder @meep52 @may-rbi @kyrianclawraith @thefanficcup@justwannaseesomebrozawa @pastalavistamf @dodekakophonie @seraphinedemort @seraphichana @keegan-parker @mimilikey @im-da-bronx @asrielstars @sweet-itachi-lovin @09shell-sea09 @tinybrie @wolfeyedwitch @lilac-lanedy @ashenfairytale @thelitteralestmood @mady-is-ace-trash @crazylittlemunchkin @idontwhatonamemyself @skulld3mort-1fan @lazy-bouqet @emeraudesfateandfandoms @ae-vixrose @lesling123 @arandomturd @blacksea21090 @enderglace@icedbluesoul @nerdypaintbrush @suppengott @always-be-a-stranger

Ao3 link

Edit: there is a link to the next chapter at the top of this post so you can keep reading :)

[princessfanonanona]

DP prompt: Mr. Lancer is formally introduced to Clockwork at parent-teacher night.

Hi berry I love you berry but stop sending me prompts that get away from me I'm dying (affectionate and joking)

---

Mister Lancer heaves the sigh of an underpaid teacher with a long, long night ahead of them.

So far the parents have been…normal. Expected responses to common patterns of students.

He leans back, away from the desk to rub his face. The next pair of parents has him debating the flask he stashed in his bag.

He had sent a notice for young Mister Fenton to attend with his parents, against common practice. The boy had taken it with resignation lining his very soul. His eyes betrayed something else though. It made him wonder; if something else was happening behind the scenes.

Afterall, why would a child show signs of fear?

Sitting up, Lancer looks over the file again, feeling like he was missing something paramount to the situation.

A knock on the door draws his attention up.

A mop of black hair is barely seen at the bottom of the window.

"Come in!" He calls straightening his notes.

The door opens and Danny trudges in with his shoulders bunched near his ears.

Lancer can't help but notice the slight limp in his gait and the way one arm is curled around his torso.

"Are you alright?" He can't help but ask.

Danny flinches, ducking his head lower to hide behind his bangs. 

"'M fine," he mumbles, shuffling his feet.

Lancer frowns, and looks back at the open but empty doorway.

"Are your-"

"No, they're not," Danny cuts in. He stands awkwardly beside the chairs in front of the desk. "Can we just get this over with?"

Lancer blinks at the level of aggression in his voice. He takes a moment to reassess, seeing the lines of tension as more than just fear and shame.

"Have a seat, Mister Fenton," Lancer says, keeping his tone even, his posture loose. Danny balks but does as he's told, curling up on the seat.

"I had wanted to go over a few concerns," Lancer says, making a show of pulling some files from the folder. He watches Danny tense further out of the corner of his eye. "However, I have decided that perhaps a…re-evaluation is in order."

He drops the papers into the trash.

Danny frowns, blue eyes flicking between the bin and his face.

Lancer waits, giving the boy time to collect his thoughts.

"Why?" It's small, barely formed without any malice.

"Because I believe I've never had the full picture," he answers, leaning forward on his desk to bend to Danny's eye level. "And I do see so much potential that's being buried away."

Danny scoffs looking away, "No potential here, I'm just the family fuck up."

Oh, and isn't that something.

Lancer feels his heart ache a little.

"Something tells me you could be top of the class if you didn't have your full attention diverted elsewhere," he says.

He shrugs, hands fisting his loose t-shirt.

Lancer files away just how loose the shirt is. How had he never noticed?

He opens his mouth to continue when he feels a chill run down his spine. Something heavy settling around his neck.

A medal?

A gold gear embedded with an inscription.

"Pardon my sudden arrival," a voice says, making Lancer startle.

A youngish looking ghost floats besides Danny. Bright red eyes glowing harshly against blue skin and a large staff held loosely behind.

"You may refer to me as Clockwork," they say, drifting to take the open seat next to Danny. "I do apologize for being late."

"Late?" He repeats. Gaze flicking between the evidently frozen Fenton and the ghost with what appears to be the mechanisms of a grandfather clock in its chest. 

"For the parent teacher conference," they say, body shifting to something far older, long white beard piling onto the curled wisp of a tail. "You did request to meet with young Daniel’s guardian, no?"

Lancer blinks, hands clenching and releasing as he tries to understand what is happening.

"That- I did, however, I was expecting to meet with-"

"The Dr's Fenton, yes," Clockwork frowns, red eyes shimmering a darker hue. "Do forgive me if I request that you do not continue to believe them well-intentioned when it comes to Daniel's well being."

He glances at Danny, frozen in his curled defensive position.

"I was beginning to suspect…" he begins tentatively.

"And that is why I am here," they say, settling on the chair and shrinking into a form more akin to a toddler. "You have begun a long path, a dangerous one and I wish to provide you with an opportunity."

Lancer swallows.

"What is your relationship with Mister Fenton?" He asks instead.

The ghost smiles, something fond softening his features as he turns towards Danny. He places a gentle hand on his head, smoothing the unruly locks.

Danny blinks eyes flashing green before settling back to blue.

"Grandfather?" He questions, body instantly losing its tension.

Clockwork brushes a now adult hand to cup Danny's cheek. "It is okay, little one, we will talk soon."

Danny nods, closing his eyes as they let go, body going still once more.

"I see," Lancer says, thoughts flying a mile a minute. Something about the situation doesn't sit right with him, several flags waving in warning.

"I offer you a choice," the ghost says, turning their full attention back to him. Two vials appear on his desk. One purple one green, both shimmering gold.

"I will tell you of the story of young Daniel and you will decide to either erase your memories, remembering nothing of this conversation, or a promise of secrecy and become an ally of a child in need of guidance, becoming a true pillar of support."

Lancer frowns, "I want to help Mister Fenton in anyway I can, that is my job as a teacher, to help mold the minds of our youth to reach their fullest potential."

Clockwork smiles, something amused that Lancer finds somewhat cruel.

He is viscerally reminded of the stories of his childhood, of fae and their strange rules.

"I will listen if you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, leaving nothing out."

"That was my intention," they smile, lips curving into something truly mean.

"Swear it, on your name."

"I swear upon mine own name that I will tell you the truth as it stands in the sands of time."

Something fizzles against his skin, dousing the room is something cold.

And so Clockwork begins his tale. The story he tells is something more twisted and horrible than he could ever imagine.

It is thanks only to a lifetime of experience that keeps his dinner down for some of it.

Lancer bracea himself on his desk, head in his hands by the end of it. He swallows around the lump building in his throat.

"This is all true?" He whispers in shock.

"I swore upon my name," they say.

Lancer presses the palms of his heels into his eyes, making starbursts bloom.

He draws a deep breath and releases it as a gust of air.

"You must now make a decision," they state.

He looks up, blinking his vision clear. He looks at Danny, feeling new bile rise in his throat. 

"Forget this entire conversation or bind your soul to the would be king."

"Okay," Lancer picks up the vial.

[phantom-angst-obsession]

Guys I made a fic about my earlier post if anyone's interested, the first chapter is short because I like where it ends but I'll try to get more words and longer chapters

[worm-writes]

Day 4 - Box

Danny is bored, so bored that following the box ghost around is entertaining to him at this point

[shadowstar1919]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Danny Phantom, DCU Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Danny Fenton/Sam Manson Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Guys in White (Danny Phantom), Original Characters, Vlad Masters, Jim Gordon, Joker (DCU), Harleen Quinzel, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, John Constantine Additional Tags: Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Batfamily (DCU), Older Danny Fenton, University, Therapy, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Protective Jason Todd, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Resurrected Jason Todd, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, Supportive Jazz Fenton, Good Sibling Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Ghost Hunters, Supernatural Elements, John Constantine Needs A Hug, Ghost King Danny Fenton Series: Part 1 of Danny Goes to school in Gotham, Part 2 of Multiverse AU GZ 2070

chapter 9

I wake up to giggles coming from the living room. As I rolled over trying to go back to sleep. But, my mouth was dry. So, I got up and tiredly floated through my room and phasing through the door. It was easier.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Jazz says smiling at me. "Oh hey Jazz, hey random person who is also my boss.." I say before opening the cold tap. I lean down and just drink from the faucet like a water fountain.

Turning off the water and drifting backwards as my eyes close. "Damn I'm tired." I sigh.

"Then go back to sleep." Jason cuts in.

"That's the plan, Stan," I smirk stupidly at both Jason and Jazz. Before drifting back to my bedroom door.

"Good night guys. Don't stay up too late." I say as I open my door this time and float through.

Flopping down on the bed I basically instantly pass back out.

That night my dreams were weird. I kept feeling my ghost sense pulling me to the point of nearly waking up. But it eventually stopped and I got a few hours in.

*Phone blaring Rebels* I roll over to my phone ringing. It was Sam. Great. I answer.

"Hey. Danny, so I just got off work wanna explore the mall with me and Tim?" Sam says excitedly.

"I just woke up. But sure Where would you like to meet?" I yawn.

"Oh we are outside your place can we come up?" She sounds like she is grinning.

"Okay, see you in a minute then, Love you." I sigh hanging up the phone from her. She is going to kill me for that.

I get up and rush to get dressed. Gamestop t-shirt and blue jeans it is. Since it was what was on top of my drawer. I check the time before leaving my room. 10Am. Jazz is probably asleep still since she got the day off and was up late with Jason. I cringe at the thought. 'I really hope they don't start dating.' I mumble to myself.

I walk out into the main part of the house. It's oddly quiet. I see a note on the kitchen counter. I pick it up and read it.

Hey Danny I am going out for breakfast with Jason this morning. I hope you slept well there is ice coffee in the fridge for you and Sam. She said she was coming to wake you up.

Love Jazz. P.S. Text me if you need anything.

"Eew That's gross. Kinda wish I hadn't read that now." I groan thinking about those two being all lovie dovie. Then I suddenly jump scared by the front door slamming open.

"Danny! Are you ready for an adventure?!" Sam barged in basically dragging Tim with her.

"OH-Ff ancients it's just you guys. Want some iced coffee first?" I thankfully stop myself from cussing.

"Yes, that sounds great," Tim says perking up.

"Obviously. Also, did you wanna eat before or after we get to the mall?" Sam questioned.

My brain wasn't wanting to work so I pour out three iced coffees before responding. I add smores flavoured cream to mine before gesturing to the two with it. "Want some?"

Tim takes his and I notice he doesn't add anything to his. Sam takes me up on the smores delight.

"Still haven't answered my question." Sam smiles poking me in the arm.

"Can we have our coffee first? I just woke up. Also, think Jason and Jazz are going to start dating?" I dodge thinking about what I want to do with a follow-up question.

Tim nearly spits his coffee up and jerks forward. "What did you just say?!" He blurts out.

"Oh, One-Hundred percent she has a thing for bad guys and from what Tim had told me they are so going to date," Sam smirks evilly at the two of us.

"Well, I am not hungry now. I liked it better when I didn't have a clue about Jason's love life." Tim says looking pale at the thought.

"Gross, your right those two seem made for each other well for now. Jazz tends to go through people like a phase. I just hope she doesn't emotionally destroy Jason. She is so going to try and 'fix' him first. If I know Jazz." I say making air quotes and being dramatic. I take a step back and trip over the carpet. I catch myself.

"Um Danny you're floating..." Sam says quietly putting her coffee down. I quickly put my feet back on the ground.

"Oh don't worry Sam. I figured it out already. Danny needs to get a mask or something." Tim smiles as he sips at his coffee.

"OH OKAY. Well, he also needs to inform me when he has been compromised again!" Sam starts with surprise but slowly melts into a low growl. I felt like I was about to get the identities speech again.

I chug my ice coffee, then excuse myself to use the washroom. I go off course and then linger for a second to check my phone, no new notifications and 96% battery. 'Good.' Coming back into the room I see Sam talking with Tim about adventures and the zone. 'Good I don't need to explain everything.' I think to myself.

Well, I am ready to go whenever you guys are. "Finally." Sam laughs before getting up and kissing my cheek. "Remember that ghost-powered adventure in high school?" She says quietly.

"Yes." I look at her with concern. "No, I am not letting you use my owers again. Johns in the city at the moment and it wouldn't end well." I say walking towards the door.

"Hold up a second is this the story of how John Constantine knows you?!" Tim basically yells as he catches up with us. The front door closes. I don't bother locking it.

"Would you take a simple yes for an answer?" I groan walking down the hall to the elevator.

"If you don't wanna tell it I will," Sam smirks. "But I wanna use your powers in exchange and I'll buy your lunch and I even brought you a blob-bobba." She smiled and pulled out a glass water bottle filled with a glowing green substance, it pearls up into little blob ghosts when she stops shaking it. I can't help but smile.

"Fine. But if we run to John or and of Tim's family please don't do anything sus." I say exhausted.

We go into the now open elevator and Sam tells the story of shenanigans and bull- we did in high school. I personally like to call it her invisible menace phase. Tim looked mortified.

Once we are outside I make a weak duplicate and overshadow Sam, then let my own consciousness slip to the back of her mind letting her have full control of everything in her body, ghost powers included. 'This is so cool.' She thought.

"Oh no. I forgot we can hear each other's thoughts like this." I groan hunching forward now back in human form.

"Hold up. She has a duplicate in her... You can hear each other's thoughts and she has access to your powers?" Tim stares us down.

"Uh yes." We say in unison. Blinking we both look at each other. 'That was weird.' she thought.

'I second that thought.'

"So can you do that with multiple people?" Tim pressed now slowly walking towards the parking lot.

"No." I lie. "Yes." Sam Smiles at the same time.

"Is it a no or yes? Because I kinda wanna see what ghost powers are like." Tim says almost bouncing.

"Wait you don-" Sam starts saying something then looks at me. 'He feels like a half-ghost or something to me.' she thinks.

Tim now stopped and looking at us confused.

'I think he has a ghostly element but no. I don't think he has powers. Maybe a ghost sense but definitely not the starter pack.' I think but roll my eyes at Sam.

"Okay I can tell then there is a conversation going on without me. one of my friends does have telepathy." Tim says sarcastically.

"Don't worry it wasn't anything bad. I and Sam were just discussing a power we are currently sharing." I smile but am nearly cut off by Sam.

"What I wanted to say is you feel kind of like a ghost would or someone like Danny does." She sighs. 'It's better to just tell the truth, Danny.'

"Oh. I honestly don't know how to respond to this. Well, we can talk more about it in the car. I guess." He turns around and continues to walk.

"Don't worry you don't feel as ghostly as Jason does if that's what you are worried about," I smirk knowing he doesn't wanna be anything like Jay.

We get to Tim's car and John is leaning on the hood.

"Danny I could use a hand. Wait are you overshadowing her?!"

[charcoalhawk]

A flight without feathers

A persons wings can change any number of times throughout their life, some keep the same wings they were born with, some people change over a dozen times throughout their life.

Fourth fic for the 2023 Phic Phight. Prompt was from @seaglass-skies: Everyone is born with wings unique to them, a reflection of themselves. But that means the wings all have one thing in common - they disappear when a person dies.

Grandpa Walter loves rules.

“No dessert before dinner”, “no flying after dark”, “no roughhousing near the fine china”. He had a whole whole whole lot of em. But they mostly made sense. Danny remembers sneaking out to fly after dark back home once, and almost hitting a power line because he couldn’t see it in the dark.

Grandpa Walter also let them have the most fun. He’d take him and Jazz way way way up high with his giant eagle wings and let them glide back down.

His wings are so big, he remembers one night they had all been visiting aunt Alicia and Dad had been able to hide completely behind grandpa when Aunty had chased him around trying to preen his feathers.

Danny’s wings are still pretty small, and he still needs help to actually get in the air. Jazz had just had her first solo flight on her sixth birthday, and not two weeks later Danny had got to see someone’s wings change.

Danny remembers the day his sister’s wings changed. As long as he could remember they had been these pretty red wings, almost the color of her hair, but those last few weeks after cleanings there had been these darker feathers appearing in their place.

Mom called them iridescent, Danny just thought they were shiny.

Danny liked Jazz’s new wings, and he could tell she did too.

Finally, they went up for their weekly visit to their grandpa, and he helped Jazz finally clean her primaries and the last bit of her molt, leaving these beautiful dark blue-green feathers in their place.

“Let’s fly, let's fly!” Danny cheered, hopping around the circle of feathers on the ground.

“Maybe later,” grandpa carded a careful hand through Jazz’s new primaries, “now come on little blue-jay, little red, let’s head inside, if your hands are washed in three minutes maybe we can have some ice cream.”

“But that name doesn’t fit me anymore!”

“Oh you're right! Maybe over ice cream we can look up your new wings and find a new nickname.”

———

Danny knows grandpa is old, he sees it in the way he sits down and in the gray in his hair in feathers.

But, his mom and dad are old! He doesn’t get why sometimes his parents keep telling him and Jazz to remember how old grandpa is. When he asks Jazz she tells him it’s because grandpa isn’t the healthiest, so they might only have a few more years with him.

For a long time Danny doesn’t understand, he sees his grandpa every week and he always is the same. Maybe as the months go on he has to fly less because he can’t carry them both, but then mom can’t carry them both either anymore, so he can’t see what the big deal is.

But, all feathers fall, eventually.

—————

His mom gets the call right as they’re about to leave for school. Danny is glaring at Jazz because she stole his last pancake while Dad tries to clean the toaster oven on ectoplasm after he accidentally knocked a can of it over with his wings.

Mom reaches for the landline as Danny snatches Jazz’s last piece of bacon in retaliation.

“Oh” Mom’s voice cracks. Her wings droop like they’re full of water.

“Maddie?” Dad looks up from the toaster, his wings starting to fluff up.

She ignores him.

“Yes, yes absolutely.” His Mom seems almost transfixed with whatever the person on the other end of the phone is saying, “Do you need help with-? No, no yes I understand. Send me the address and we’ll be there.”

With that Danny can hear the phone go dead, and for a second the kitchen is filled with the sound of ruffling feathers.

Mom finally looks to his Dad.

“It’s, my dad passed away last night, Alicia found out when he didn’t call her this morning.”

“Grandpa’s, he’s gone?” Jazz asks, pushing her chair back to stand up.

“Yes.” Danny can start to see tears in his mom’s eyes, “I’m- Alicia said he,” she can’t finish.

With two large steps his Dad is completely covering her with his wings as he hugs her, but Danny and Jazz can still hear her muffled sobs.

His Mom almost never cries. Danny can remember her crying when he flew for the first time or when Jazz’s wings changed, but whenever they got hurt she would always be strong.

Oh, Danny realizes. His Grandpa is gone.

They don’t end up going to school that day.

————

The church they arrive at is huge.

Mom looks uncomfortable as they walk inside, shifting with her pressed shirt as they walk down the entrance.

Danny has only been inside churches a few times, mostly when extended family visit for a holiday. Mom says they’re going to meet with the person in charge of Grandpa's memorial service because aunt Alicia needed to do some last minute things.

Dad had gone to get Jazz from a friend’s house so it was just him and mom there with the person who was in charge.

The woman waiting for them seems very nice. She smiles at both of them, and doesn’t get angry when mom can’t smile back.

Mom asks him to stay in the main hall, but the woman had said that Grandpa was in the main room, and Danny just has to see him.

The door isn’t locked, and when he peeked inside the room was empty except for the chairs and the box, the coffin, on the other side of the room.

Grandpa’s coffin is so small.

Mom had told him not to touch anything, but Danny just had to look. The last time he saw Grandpa he had been just fine.

As he approaches he sees that the top of the coffin is off, but he still can see inside because of the elevated platform it’s on.

After a moment's consideration he hauls one of the chairs, and uses it to look into where his grandpa is.

He doesn’t know what he expects to see, but one thing becomes very clear as he looks down at his Grandpa’s still form. Because now Danny understands why they could make the coffin so small, it’s because his wings are gone.

He remembers mom saying that when you died you lost your wings, but to him it always sounded like it was something that took a lot of time, like how mummy’s didn’t have noses because over the million billion years it took for them to find them their wings had slowly gone away.

The only thing that makes sense is if someone stole his wings.

Danny remembers a movie he saw, very late one night after his Grandpa had thought he had gone to bed. In the movie the police had found someone murdered in their own home, body completely unharmed, but the second they saw the body they knew the person was dead because someone had taken their wings.

Danny busts out of the room and runs towards the woman his mom and now dad are talking to. As he gets closer he can see the woman is still smiling, which only makes him madder.

As he finally reaches the group he hears his dad start to ask where he was, but Danny has something important to do.

He winds up his foot, just like Jazz taught him, and crashes his foot into the woman’s shin.

He pours all the rage and grief his little body can handle into the kick, and then he can’t say anything because his throat closes up around his tears.

“You- you stole Grandpa’s wings!”

“Danny, what on earth are you talking about?” His mom has crouched down to him, as his dad apologizes to the woman and Jazz looks towards the room Danny came from.

“”Honey,” mom’s voice catches like when she first told them that Grandpa had died. “A person’s wings disappear when they die, once the heart stops and the brain stops thinking a person's wings fade away in a matter of minutes.”

“But that doesn’t make sense! Grandpa’s wings were real! My wings are real! They can’t just disappear! They’d have to decam- decome- rot for them to disappear!”

“I’m so sorry kiddo,” his dad’s large hand rests against his still ruffled feathers. “We should have explained it to you better after it happened. We thought we had prepared you for what your grandpa was going to look like, but we should have made sure you really heard what we were saying.”

Things calm down after that. The woman doesn’t seem mad that Danny kicked her, which only makes him feel worse. When they enter the room properly as guests start to arrive Danny can’t bring himself to look at the other end of the room.

The entire service Danny has to sit in the back of the room with his head buried in Jazz’s shoulder. He can’t stand to look at that tiny box that is supposed to hold his grandpa.

————

Danny finds out dying sucks.

He can still hear the whine of the portal powering up every night. There are times he can’t concentrate because his limbs hum like they’re connected to a live wire.

And that’s not even getting into the fact that he can somehow become a ghost at will.

The worst thing though, is the fact that he lost his wings.

At least, they disappear when he’s Danny Fenton. Danny Phantom, on the other hand, is a ghost with wings.

When he first wakes up it’s to his parents' horrified screams. He’s rushed off to the hospital, and doctors do just about every test under the sun to try and figure out what happened to him.

He finds out that it’s very rare to lose one's wings and survive. Usually whatever let’s wings manifest is pretty good at judging what’s alive and dead, seeing as coma patients never lose their wings even without brain activity.

But it is possible.

He meets Vlad, an old family friend who also now lives without wings.

Of course, the guy also turns out to blame his dad entirely for the accident and tries to get Danny to be ‘his son’ because he’ll understand him so much better than his dad and mom ever will now. So, he doesn’t think they’ll be bonding any time soon.

The first time he transforms, the first thing he notices is the familiar weight of wings on his back.

They’re not his dark raven wings, at least not fully. Some of them look like they have molted back into his childhood blue, which makes no sense in Danny’s opinion.

He finds he can make them intangible with minimal effort, because the last thing he needs is to give his parents another target when shooting at his ghost form. While around other ghosts he tries his best to play it off as a ghostly mutation, but none of them are fooled. Not even Plasmius has wings, so he knows it isn’t a halfa thing, just another thing that makes him a freak to both sides.

At least his wings are useful in a fight, letting him fly faster.

Most ghosts are at least indifferent to his wings, having been dead so long they seem to have lost how it connected them to life. Some do care, Skulker has made it no secret that he’d like to pin his wings on his wall along with his pelt, which still makes Danny queasy.

It’s as he’s releasing the annoying hunter into the zone for the nth time that he senses a new ghost approaching.

Most ghosts only hang around the portal when they want to try and cause havoc in the human realm, so Danny already doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

The ghost is moving towards him at a leisurely pace, but even from this distance Danny knows they’re strong.

His wings itch from having been kept intangible for so long, he might have to use them to make a quick getaway if the ghost tries to attack while they’re all still in the zone.

The ghost looms. Danny knows he isn’t the tallest guy, but the other ghost has him beat by at least four feet.

“What are you doing here, boy.” The ghost’s voice is very monotone, “according to section 23G subsection 122-456A you are in violation of zone haunts and will need to-“

Yep, definitely getting out of here. With a flick of his wings he zips back towards the portal entrance, wings flared in an attempt to deter the other ghost from following him.

But then the ghost stops dead, staring at Danny intently.

“Little Blue-Jay?”

[flamingpudding]

Next part of Ghost Kid in Gotham

Previous Part: 1

Next Part: 3

Literal Ankle Biter

"Fuck!"

"Red Hood are you okay?

Jason let out a grunt as answer before a muttered "I am fucking fine." followed and he attempted to shut off the coms on his helmet again. This was the third time Oracle had decided to reactivate his coms and fuck did he not want to deal with his siblings in his ears right now.

"You little shit, why do you have such sharp teeth?!" So far no blood had been drawn by these sharp chompers. But he would probably have bite mark shaped bruises.

"Oracle put his video feed on the Batcomputer!" He heard one of his siblings over the coms, great that was the last thing he needed right now. Swiftly he turned off the coms again but he had no time to remove his helmet to chuck it into one of the dark corners of his apartment as sharp teeth lunged for his arm again.

He held up his gun and the sharp teeth chomped down around the barrel of his gun. He let out a fleeting chuckle as he spied a grimace on his small attacker's face. "Ha, not so fun chewing on metal is it now?"

"HOOD WHY THE FUCK IS THERE ARE CHILD CHEWING THE BARREL OF YOUR GUN?!"

Wow actual cursing from Dick that must really look bad to them.

"A CHILD IS DOING WHAT?!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP. The magazine is empty and there is no bullet left in it." He yelled back into the coms as he dropped the gun, and with that the child, to the floor to finally take off his helmet to throw it into the kitchen. His siblings in the Bat Cave can have some fun staring at his title flooring there.

Meanwhile he stared down at the kid that was staring back at him from the floor, the gun no longer between their teeth. The kid was staring at him the same way it had earlier sitting on the ground like a cat ready to pounce on their prey.

When he had first entered his apartment he had noted that it was way colder than it should be. At first he had thought his heater might have broken but then two Lazarus Pit green orbs stared back at him from the darkness of his room. His first instinct was, of course, to pull out his gun and aim it.

Then his brain kicked in with reasoning and he started cursing Nightwing over the coms accusing him of attempting to prank him. Because he was the only one coming close enough to his apartment on today's patrol to pull off a prank on him and not trigger all the alarms that were set up.

He will never admit to the little scream that came through the coms before shutting it off as he flicked his lights on and found a literal kid wearing an oversized Nasa shirt perched on his living room table staring at him like he was the intruder to his own apartment.

Before he could even ask a question, that feral kid pounced with their mouth wide open, sharp teeth glinting in the bad lighting of his apartment and ready to chomp down on any of his limbs. He had gotten a hold of the kid a couple of times but every time the kid somehow managed to slip out of his hold. Before attempting to gnaw on his arm or leg again.

Of course his grunts had alerted his siblings every fucking time Oracle had to switch on his coms when he switched them off on fucking purpose. Seriously he did not need for his siblings to hear or see him struggling agains a fucking child of all things. In his defence the kid was fucking feral and obviously wanted to make him its new chewtoy.

"Okay kid, we can do this the easy way or the hard way." He lifted both his hands letting his palms face the kid who of all things started hissing at him. What kind of child fucking hisses like a cat?! A fucking kid that pounces and attacks like a cat apparently.

Well there went his throw blanket as he swiftly ripped it apart and made the kid bite on that instead of his arm and tie the ripped off strip around the kids head. Once the kid was properly gagged with no choking danger, he wrapped the rest of the blanket around the kid so it wouldn't start thinking about using his hands and feet to fight instead of only its teeth.

"Don't glare at me like that. I gave you a choice." The kid was glaring daggers at him and he could only smugly smile down at them before he frowned.

Now that he finally got a better look at his small attacker, he noticed some things. For one there was the glaring fact that the kid looked way too much like the demon brat when he had been younger like a carbon copy. His first thought was that the kid was a fucking clone but so far any clone they came across was at least same age as the demon brat, that feral kid didn't look any older than seven or eight.

Second thing he noticed was that the kids' eyes flickered between the Lazarus green and a sky blue, both colors were glowing though. So was this a meta kid? Or considering the clone theory, a failed experiment the bitch Talia had dropped in a Lazarus Pit?

Then there was the fact that the Pit in his mind was strangely quiet and not the least bit aggressive or angry by the feral kids presence, no in fact the pit felt the calmest it ever had in a long time, even a little protective if he interpreted part of the silence correctly.

Who the fuck was that kid?

The sound of snapping teeth ripped him out of his thoughts and he stared down at the kid again just in time to pull his leg away from shape chompers. Somehow that feral brat had wiggled his way over to his legs and had also chewed his way through the makeshift gag that lay discarded at the kids former placement. "The fuck is wrong with you little shit?!"

--------

By the time Jason rolled with his bike into the Bat Cave, his siblings had fallen into a state of absolute chaos arguing back and forth, the footage from his helmet still playing on a part of the screen while a screen shot from the time the kid used his gun as chewtoy was taken and zoomed in to get a close up of the kids face.

Not that it helped considering the image was tat bit blurry but had enough quality that his siblings could see the kids similarities to the demon brat. Which probably was the cause for them arguing back and forth if that kid was a clone or some sort of experiment considering the age boy appeared to be.

"Jason?! What happened to the child?!" Of course it had to be Dick that noticed him first.

"Dropped him off the Wayne tower, what do you think?" He snarked back as he lifted the buritoed child that was aggressively gnawing on a gag made from bat wire. He rolled with his eyes at his siblings' gasps. Look they didn't have to deal with the kids biting or attemtping to bite them when they drove a fucking motorcycle. The wire was reassurance, after the kid managed to chew through at least three ropes, and two cloth made gags. The boy had razors as teeth and Jason had not been in the mood to risk crashing on his way to the Cave, okay?!

"Damn he does look like Damien but in small size." Tim mentioned as he got a little closer, curiosity getting the best of him before turning to the teenager in question. "Think it's a clone?"

"<tt> of course it is. Most likely a failed one Mother didn't dispose of for some reasons." Dick arched an eyebrow as Jeason just studied the youngest among them. The way the demon brat had said that felt wrong and by the way Dick was looking at the brat, he wasn't the only one that noticed.

"The fuck you want me to do with that little shit?" He was getting tired of holding up the kid like the boy was some prize he caught. Well he did catch that little biter in a way anyway.

Tim let out a shriek and jumped back from Jason and the kid, a syringe in his hand with a little blood drawn from the boy. The older could only raise an eyebrow as the younger gave the biter a wary look and shuffled back to create more distance. The kid still bound by blanket burrito on the other hand had managed to chew through fucking bat wire and was snapping and hissing in Tims direction eyes brightly growing green.

"Carefully he bites."

"His eyes they…"

"Glow Lazarus green, yes."

Really did he need to state all the obvious things to his siblings.

"We should just get rid of that thing." Oh gee demon brats, solution to everything. Just get rid of it. Even if it was a clone, he was holding up a fucking kid here. He may kill but even he wouldn't step so low as to kill a fucking child just cause it would be convenient.

"Now, now let's just figure out if the kid is really a clone or maybe a Meta." Ever the peacemaker Dick tried as Jason and Damien glared at each other while Tim made his way to the Batcomputer to analyze the little bit of blood he had been able to withdraw before the kid started snapping at him. Suddenly the blanket in his grip felt lighter than it had before. Staring at the empty blanket burrito a curse escaped his lips alerting his other two siblings.

"Where did the child go?" Dick asked panicked but let out a yelp as something rushed past his feet deeper into the bat cave.

"You imbecile can't you even keep a child contained?"

"Shut the fuck up, the blanket burrito was secure enough to at least get here with that feral biter. I wanna see you try to not get fucking biten by the kid when driving a bike!"

"<tt>"

[verstarppen]

IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY MASTERLIST

: ̗̀°•*⁀☆ SUMMARY: there is little time between fast cars and spaceships but you make it work; lando norris never paid attention to the stupid sci-fi shows daniel used to watch, until he met you.

•*⁀☆ PAIRING: lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader

╰≫ NOTE: the reader has no face claim. pictures haven't been used to represent the reader's appearance, but within the context of the story she is famous and therefore a well known public figure.

๋࣭ ⭑⁀☆ STATUS: ongoing

⋆｡‧⁀☆ UPDATES: 22:00 GMT (UTC+0 UK), 09:00 AEDT (UTC+11 AUSTRALIA), 23:00 CET (UTC+1 GERMANY, FRANCE, ITALY), 00:00 EET (UTC +2 GREECE), 07:00 JST (UTC +9 JAPAN), 17:00 EST (UTC -5 AMERICA), 14:00 PST (UTC +8 CANADA), 03:30 IST (UTC +5:30)

･ﾟ:⁀☆ TAGS: fluff, celebrity nerds in love, f1 2022 and 2023, light angst, way too much star wars lore, surprise pregnancy, no beta reader we die like oscar and danny's sanity, kotor movie bc i said so, ahsoka pr team needs to pay for this smau btw

‧₊˚⁀☆ A/N: stuck between a rock (f1 brainrot) and a hard place (star wars brainrot)

[ episode i ] - 11/09/2023

[ episode ii ] - 12/09/2023

[ episode iii ] - 14/09/2023

[ episode iv ] - 15/09/2023

[ episode v ] - 18/09/2023

[ episode vi ] - 26/09/2023

[ episode vii ] - 7/10/2023

[ episode viii ] - 8/11/2023

[ episode ix ] - 24/11/2023

[ episode x ] - 4/12/2023

[ episode xi ] - 7/3/2024

[ episode xii ] - 16/3/2024

[ episode xiii ] - 5/4/2024

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[little-pondhead]

Bruce was being watched. Again.

He didn’t know where it was coming from, and that was a problem at the moment. He was hosting another gala, intent on putting on the “Bruice Wayne” mask for the public. None of his children were attending, unfortunately, but everything was going okay so far.

Then he kept feeling a cool breeze on the back of his neck. His hairs stood on end, and he shivered randomly. Someone mentioned that he looked cold. But Bruce wasn’t cold. He was Batman! Batman is never bothered by something stupid like the temperature. It just felt like there were multiple pairs of eyes staring at him from all directions.

Bruce tried to catch whoever it was, but when he looked, there was no one there. He even made extra laps around the room, easily slipping between socialites and chatting his way through the crowd. He scanned the tables, checked the stairs, peeked outside, and even snuck at glance at the chandeliers for fuck’s sake! There was nothing. No cameras, no lingering eyes, nothing.

Bruce could feel his heartbeat quicken. There was something in the room. Something dangerous.

Eventually, the source of his anxiety came to him. The gala was small, being in the middle of the off-season for social events. It was a relatively quiet gathering. Still, Bruce flinched when someone tapped his shoulder from behind when he was making another waltz around the room. He turned, and was faced with a boy no older than 16, but no younger than 14. It was hard to tell his age. He wore an ill-fitted navy suit and scuffed dress shoes. His tie was no where to be seen, and the boy had a platter of finger foods balanced in one hand. He hadn’t heard anyone approach at all.

What made Bruce freeze, however, was the fact that the boy looked exactly like the portraits of the young Thomas Wayne that were hanging innocently in the Wayne family home. His crystal blue eyes seemed to glow in the overhead lights as they bore into Bruce. It felt like the boy could see his soul. The air was more chilled than it had been all night, and everything in Bruce’s mind was screaming DANGER!

“Y’know…” Bruce’s breath caught in his throat as the boy spoke. His midwestern accent was heavy, and the boy took a slow moment to polish off a baked feta bite before continuing. “You look like the kinda guy to have a secret basement. The bloody kind. Nice party, though!” With that, the boy disappeared back into the crowd, taking the cold air with him.

Bruce never got out a word.

———

Danny sees all the wandering souls and shades attached to Bruce Wayne, and comes to the obvious conclusion that the billionaire is a serial killer.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟰: 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 / 𝗺𝗮𝘅 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around , and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. overstimulation. light dom/sub. quickies. cunnilingus. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. unsafe sex. safewords. creampie. come eating. squirting. hand job. masturbation. dacryphilia. mention of taking explicit photos. praise kink. aftercare. set after the 2023 season. no beta we die like carlos’ fuel system. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6.5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: daniel ricciardo/max verstappen x black!fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: take me away • daniel caesar

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: set post 2023 season. mm, i luv me some danny caesar–i got to see him live this year 😛 i was originally gonna pick a classic country song in true american fashion to show some patriotism for the austin gp—as a black woman, i can attest that we love our country bangers—but take me away just fit perfectly. and daniel is definitely taking yall somewhere this upload—max and reader are just along for the ride 💀. i tried to write sub!max, i think it came across well, and ahead of time i sincerely apologize to the maxiel truthers…i think i may have slayed. i will not be paying for your therapy < 3 🙂 (and if you think i changed the summary, stfu no i didn’t 😌) enjoy y'all !!!!

do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

this past racing season was long; daniel knows that well; he went from being the third driver at red bull, to having a seat at alphatauri, to breaking his wrist–and still managed to recover to drive in the last five races. max can also account for how lengthy this season was; he dominated every race illustrated by his 10 consecutive wins, won his team the constructor’s championship 16 races in, won his third world driver’s championship the following week through a sprint race, and still had to stick around for five more races. but, daniel and max both know who has the best firsthand account of how prolonged and draining the formula one 2023 season was.

you.

daniel knows that you’re they’re biggest supporter; you’re a sweetheart. and while you haven’t vocalized your displeasure for the twenty-three races this year–he can feel your dejection. at the start of the season, everything was seen through rose-colored glasses; max was winning, the three of you were having champagne-drenched celebrations in hotel rooms–so filthy the poor staff probably had to incinerate the sheets. you were satisfied; and daniel was with you whenever red bull didn’t want to parade him around at a grand prix. but as the months progressed and as daniel got a seat, the demanding nature of formula one was observable. the longer season had stolen them from you–they were flying from country to country, the gaps between races only long enough to only have them home for two or three days at a time, before they had to fly out and adjust to a new time zone. leaving your two boyfriends unable to make a mess of you as often as you all crave in doing so. phone sex is hot–but it can lose its luster over almost nine months. they’ve been neglecting you–even though every time either one of them suggests that notion, you disagree vehemently– but, it’s the truth.

they pride themselves on the fact that they used to make you beg for them to stop drawing orgasms out of you...but recently your sex life has consisted of dry-humping like horny teenagers, frantic pussy-eating and cock-sucking, and quickies in the shower. so, max and daniel formulated a plan.

after abu-dhabi, the three of you returned home to max’s monaco flat and fell into bed. you’re comfortably laying completely on top of daniel, front to front, and your head is tucked under his chin, turned to the side to face max, who’s settled on his side facing the two of you, arm draped over your back, with his hand squeezing at your waist randomly as he talks to daniel. you’re fighting sleep and losing; eyelids fluttering closed every now and then against your will, breath slowing as you edge closer and closer to sleep. you're floating on the brink of unconsciousness until you're dragged away at the soft sounds of daniel and max rousing you.

“there ya’ go, honey,” murmurs daniel, his voice rumbling in his chest underneath you, “we got somethin’ to ask you, before we let ya sleep, sweet girl.”

max’s hand shifts to rub at the length of your back, and you clear the sleepy haze from your mind enough to nod your head and hum softly in question, “m’kay.”

daniel gently pulls your head from his neck with his tattooed hand on your nape, making sure your pretty eyes, foggy with sleep, make eye contact, “how do ya’ feel about spending december in australia, hmm? a sunny christmas–on the ricciardo ranch; you, me, max and our families–ain’t that perfect, honey?”

max smiles softly at your pout–you’re never one to appreciate having your sleep interrupted–before adding on to daniel’s question, “jimmy and sassy can stay with the sitter; i already spoke to her a few days ago. she’d be thrilled to have them, so you don’t have to worry about where’d they stay. i don’t think i can get pet passports in three days nor do i want to see how two bengal cats act on a private jet for twenty hours.”

a few seconds pass, max and daniel searching your face for any hint to a possible answer. you blink a few times, before you murmur faintly, “‘m okay with it…can i go to sleep now?”

max laughs tenderly, guiding your head back into daniel’s neck before he scoots closer and rests his own head on the australian’s shoulder, “yeah, mijn schatje. sleep well.”

daniel wraps the arm pinned under max around him, pulling him closer to drop a kiss on his forehead. his other hand falls on your back over the dutchman’s, caressing it softly. he holds the two of you as tight as he possibly can, the big grin on his face only seen by the ceiling. he has his whole world in his arms right now, but come christmas time, his whole universe–his family–will be under the same roof back home in australia.

the next three days are filled with an absurd amount of packing. max and daniel have five suitcases between the two of them—you have five for yourself; it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. the night before your flight, they watch you pace around the bedroom making sure there’s nothing important you’re forgetting. jimmy and sassy had been dropped off at the sitter’s, and max and daniel had already moved all the luggage to the entryway for the early flight. the two drivers had stopped trying to convince you to join them in the bed and cuddled together, knowing it’s best to let you work out your anxieties now so you don’t overthink on the flight.

as you start combing through the closet again, max whispers to daniel, “we could fuck the nerves out her right now, danny.”

daniel smacks max’s hip, smirking when he whines quietly, “no, maxy. she has to sit for an almost twenty hour flight, we can’t make that any more difficult for her.” the dutchman huffs, unhappy with the answer even though he knows it's the logical course of action.

dan continues, “remember: as soon as we get to the ranch and settle in—we'll be alone for a week before my parents come ‘n join us. we’ll have plenty of time to take her apart and put her back together.”

daniel was wrong. after y’all landed in perth, and made the drive out to the countryside—it was apparent that the three of you weren’t the only ones at the ranch. his parents had come early to make sure the ranch was prepped and fully stocked for your vacation, and prepared a home cooked dinner to welcome you in. dan can’t help his big smile from becoming a permanent fixture on his face as he watches his mom and dad fawn over you and max. grace pulls you into the house, instructing the men to bring the luggage inside while she gets to fixing you a plate heaping with barbecue. joe affectionately calls max ‘son’ with a tight hug, congratulating him on his third championship before they all make their way into the house.

the original plan is put on the back burner as daniel watches you and max bloom under the loving attention from his parents. the days passed quickly, all of them spent horsing around the farm; horseback riding, dirt biking, atv riding, making a trip out to the beach, eating good food, and sleeping well. dan sees max’s pale skin pinkening and your melanated complexion glowing with warmth from the caress of the australian sun. your afternoon naps are taken underneath the warm rays, stretching out in any slice of sun you can catch, bathing in it like a cat. max and dan do as many things as they can shirtless attempting to get their tan in as quick as possible—dan tans gracefully, max, on the other hand, burns like a lobster first before his tan becomes apparent.

they fucked you on the second day after your arrival, but not exactly how they were hoping too. it’s still a relatively short affair—for their standards, at least. while it quieted the need within you, it didn’t completely satisfy the urge for any of you. daniel had to coax you into biting a pillow to muffle your squeals, and have max nearly choke on his tattooed fingers to quiet his whining—dan himself clenched his jaw so tightly to prevent his own moans from escaping that he’s surprised he didn’t crack a tooth. he loves his parents, but he’s genuinely going to snap if he doesn’t get to ruin you and max without worrying if they could hear how he makes you and max beg for him.

on the fifth day, you wear your first sundress to lunch and max pulls daniel in the kitchen to muffle a scream into his chest. 

“dan, baby—i love your parents,” max starts, his eye twitching, “you know i do! but, i can’t go another day without hearing her scream for me—for us.”

they’re only men. very desperate men. and you had the nerve to parade yourself in this flowy, yellow, strapless sundress at a meal they have to suffer through. they can’t even tear it off of you after, because dan’s parents have a chance of overhearing. but, what forces the australian to kindly kick his parents out of the house, is how you fail to stop yourself from drooling over them playing around in the pool—struggling to continue speaking with his mom as you sit on the pool’s ledge. 

before dinner, dan showers by himself first, changing into fresh clothes. he then ushers you and max into the shower, ‘to rinse off the chlorine and sweat from the day,’ he says. but, he could care less about that. as soon as he hears the shower start, he practically sprints to the kitchen to see his mom and dad put the finishing touches on the burgers they fixed up.

daniel skids to a stop in the doorway, leaning against it in faux-relaxedness, and says, “howdy.” it’s silent for a minute; his dad stares at him blankly, and his mom eventually breaks and speaks plainly, “what is it, danny?”

daniel gasps in mock-disbelief, “why d’ya always think i want something from you? i can’t just be greeting my wonderful, loving, and understanding parents?”

grace stares at him, not fooled, “are you just saying ‘hi’?”

daniel stutters aimlessly looking to his dad for help, but joe just shrugs at him in a ‘you did this to yourself, son’ manner. 

“maybe! well, no, actually…” daniel sulks, slinking into the kitchen, and resting against the counter next to his mom.

his mom hums knowingly, and gestures at him to start speaking.

“uh, so, you know i love having y’all around, right, and uh, it’s nice y’know—i mean, i don’t see ya’ as often as i want to, but uh—don’t get me wrong, you’re my parents, but uhm—“

joe sighs, “daniel, cut to the chase, please.”

daniel groans, before he leans his head back to look at the ceiling, “fine. look—we just expected to at least have one week to ourselves when we got here. not that y’all being here to surprise us is bad! you know that. but, uhm…we just made plans, i guess. a-and we kind of can’t do it, because, well…”

grace washes her hands as daniel continues to ramble through an unnecessary apologetic explanation. she turns the water off, drying her hands on a towel, and turns to her husband, pointing at daniel while rolling her eyes teasingly, before she cuts her son off, “daniel, we can leave tonight.”

daniel stops, head dropping to look at his mom in shock, “what?”

“we can leave tonight, if that’s what you’re trying to ask. your father and i don’t mind,” grace smiles gently, “we weren’t supposed to stay for this long anyways, we were just trying to get the ranch prepared for y’all, and you know how enamored we are with your girl and boy; we overstayed our welcome. we can go and come back a week before christmas with the rest of the family, danny.”

daniel perks up, “you guys don’t have to leave for that long, i don’t wanna kick you out—“

“daniel, please,” joe scoffs, walking over to clap daniel on the back, “you’re not kicking us out. we’ll be back on the seventeenth, alright. hopefully, that gives y’all enough time to work out your frustrations. we really don’t want to overhear or see anything—“

daniel pales, “okAY, thank you, yes—please don’t comeback until as late as y’all want, jesus christ. wait—did you hear the other night?! ohmygod…they’re going to kill me.”

joe and grace laugh, “no, we didn’t hear anything, danny. we just figured from how they were following you around in the morning—max couldn’t even look us in the eye, son.”

daniel groans, embarrassed, “don’t tell them anything about this okay? they’ll break up with me if they know i asked you to leave so i could have sex with them.”

his parents' laughter only gets louder, but they agree eventually after they indulge in teasing their son a little more.

dinner is pleasant; you and max remain unaware of the ricciardo’s intervention, enjoying the well-cooked meal and lighthearted conversation. when everyone’s stomach is full and the conversation quiets, grace and joe break the news that they unfortunately have to return to perth. you and max sadden, trying to convince daniel’s parents to stay a little longer—max’s eyes fail to hide his eagerness at their announcement, even though his voice manages to be completely sincere. daniel watches as his parents formulate a fake excuse about their departute before he gently reminds you two, “they’ll be back for christmas, babes. you’ll see them again.”

the two of you calm at daniel’s statement, and walk his parents out to the car, exchanging hugs and kisses before they drive off back to the city. daniel leads you two back into the house after you’ve watched his parents disappear down the road, and the shift in energy as soon as the door locks is missed by you.

you mindlessly amble back to the dining table, stacking the emptied plates and glasses and wandering into the kitchen to clean them. as soon as you turn the sink faucet on, a strong body pushes against your back, and presses you against the edge of the counter as their hand reaches around you to shut the water off. you turn around to tell-off whichever boyfriend did that, but before you can get any words out, you’re pulled into a filthy kiss.

your shocked gasp is muffled by max’s lips, and you half-heartedly attempt to pull away, but the dutchman chases your lips, not allowing you to stop. you give in with a sigh, allowing max to continue kissing you. he buries one hand in your hair, tilting your head to the side for a better angle, and licks at the seam of your lips. you squirm against him, not quite giving into the coaxing of his tongue, and max hums softly before he tugs at your bottom lip. you turn your head to the side, panting softly to suck in a few desperate breaths before max pulls you back and invades the opening of your lips. you squeal at the feeling of his tongue laving against yours, the lewd wet sounds of your mouths have your thighs pressing together. max brings his other arm to grasp around your waist, and pulls you against him, groaning into your mouth at the smallest amount of friction that movement provided. you feel lightheaded, your knees weakening, but max firmly holds you up, not letting you slip from his grasp. your hands come up to wrap around him, one feeling up his chest before resting around his neck, and the other hand digging into the meat of his back in search of stability. he hums at the ache of your nails and drops both of his hands to cup the back of your thighs right under your ass. he lifts you onto the counter, spreading your legs and shoving his body between them, while still managing to not break the kiss. at the show of strength you arch your back, whining highly, pushing your chest against his—he’s so strong. he eagerly starts tugging the sundress up your legs, making to expose your panties before he’s interrupted by a sudden heavy hand on the back of his neck.

max jerks away from you (you can finally catch your breath), his chest heaving, and his own whine fills the air at the weight of daniel’s hand.

“now, darlin’,” daniel addresses max with a smirk, “this wasn’t part of our plan, was it? you forget the script, maxy?”

max blushes a pretty pink, and murmurs, “no, daniel—sorry, danny.” dan hums at the apology, pressing a kiss to max’s warm cheek.

“w-what plan?” you timidly ask, still sitting on the counter, legs spread obscenely, dress skewed messily, and lips swelling from max’s ambition.

daniel chuckles, eyes shining at you hungrily, “mmm. how ‘bout we make our way to the bedroom and ‘ll show ya, sweetheart?”

you’re spread eagle in the middle of the bed, completely naked, with daniel fully dressed in between your legs sucking marks and pressing kisses on your thighs, max stripped down to his boxer-briefs on his side next to you, doing the same to your neck and chest. you’re squirming viciously just from the feeling of his beard scraping against your inner thighs, squeals ripping from your throat when he leaves a hickey or bites at the meat of your thigh. the australian’s pupils are blown wide, as he watches you try and muffle your cries behind your hand—if this is how you’re responding to the two of them thoroughly refreshing their claim on you, he’s thrilled to see how you’ll lose your mind as the night goes on. pulling his head away, daniel presses his thumb into one of the bruises he left and your back arches deeply–you choke on your squeal, thighs slamming shut around his hand.

“none of that now, sweetheart,” dan instructs firmly, “‘s just me, you, and max, honey. no need to quiet those sweet sounds of yours, alright?”

you nod wildly, stumbling over your agreement, “y-yeah, danny. ‘ll be- i’ll be loud for you guys.”

max moans at your words from where his lips were tugging at your nipple, pulling away to raise himself back to your lips, thirstily tasting your desperation from its source. dan allows max to bruise up your mouth, and leave his own beard burn around your lips, as he undresses himself down to his briefs. 

“max…max, maxy, babe,” daniel softly calls a few times, failing to get the impatient man’s attention, “max, look at me.” the switch from dan’s soft tone to a deeper, base filled sound has max snapping away to look at daniel, panting roughly.

“be good f’me and give yourself a hand, darlin’,” dan commands, and max sighs lovingly at the endearment, “you can manage that right, maxy? while i get our sweet girl ready to take you, hm?”

max whimpers, “yes, danny,” and shifts to sit upright, pulling his underwear off and wrapping his large hand around himself. dan purrs, “good boy. her sweet cunt’s already drippin’ for us, maxy. won't take me long to stretch ‘er open for you.” you keen, humiliated at the way dan speaks about you like you’re not in the room with them. daniel tugs your legs open again, hiding his laughter in the plush meat of your thigh, but you can feel the smirk against your skin. 

embarrassed, you whine hushedly, hands fisting into the sheets by your side, “mean.”

daniel hums uncaringly at your remark, “mean? don’t worry, honey–when i finish with you, you’ll think ‘m mean for a very different reason.” he doesn’t give you a chance to ponder his words, and a firm drag of his tongue across your cunt destroys any chance for your thought processes. this time around, your moans are clear, echoing around the room. the press of daniel’s tongue is unforgiving and working intently at your clit. your thighs clamp around his head, not allowing the australian to escape even though he can feel your hips bucking away, trying to escape the consistent stimulation on one of your most sensitive spots. when one of your hands flies down to tug at his curls, he relents his assault and switches to prodding his tongue against your opening. he moans depravedly against your entrance, the noise vibrating through you, causing your shriek to pierce the air. he eats you out like a man starved; savagely shoving his tongue deeper inside you, curling against your walls, nose bumping against your clit, mouth moving like he’s truly trying to eat you alive. he ignores the ache of his jaw, the tightness of his briefs, how his beard scratches your skin; and he smoothly slips a finger into you, beginning thoroughly stretch you out.

it’s absolutely obscene-sounding. daniel works his way up to three fingers, and any previous qualms he had about you being too quiet are resolved. your whines are constant at the insistent invasion of daniel’s curling digits, and based on the way your legs are trembling, he can tell you're nearing the precipice. what’s even more erotic, is the way your cries harmonize with max’s own grunts of pleasure; the dutchman’s hips buck into the frantic pace of his hands and danny wouldn’t be surprised if max comes before he even gets inside you. daniel sits back on his heels, his fingers still digging deeper inside you, forcefully pressing against your g-spot. with his left hand, daniel knocks max’s hand away, ignoring the responding yowl of displeasure, and fists max’s cock on his own, “doin’ a little too much, maxy. our desperate girl deserves to come first, anyways—lemme set the pace for you, darlin’.” max suffers under danny’s ministrations; the extreme shift down in tempo, the constant attention on the head of his cock, a finger pressing at his slit or the vein along his underside alternatingly. you, on the other hand, are being pushed closer and closer to your orgasm. daniel’s thumb joins, rubbing quick circles of your clit–and you scream out, pleasure overriding you. when your moans start to blend into breathy little ah-ah-ah’s, he slips his fingers free from the tight clasp of your cunt, and releases his hold on max’s cock.

you sob achingly, begging daniel to make you cum, dismayed cries of, “no! danny, why’d you stop, please, make me cum,” falling from your lips as max mewls next to you, his own hands trying to force danny’s back around him. daniel shushes you, and motions for max to come closer. max flies forward happily, his whines cutting off at daniel’s attention. he man-handles max into hovering over you in missionary, his cock resting against your fluttering cunt, waiting for permission. your cries quiet, and your heart races with anticipation for max to bury himself in you. danny’s left hand grips at max’s corresponding hip, and his right hand slips in the narrow space between you two, and he presses the flushed arousal in you. and the australian cannot stop running his mouth.

“that’s ‘t, baby–nice n’ easy for ya’–mmm–he’s splitting you open isn’t he–yeah, soak ‘im, babe, get him nice and wet–no, sweetheart, don’t run from it–yeahhh just like that, you take ‘t so well–”

your own orgasm suprises you, otherwise you would’ve at least made an attempt to tell the two men. max hasn’t even gotten halfway inside you and you’re cumming; back-arching, toes-curling, hands rushing forward to scratch down max’s back, eyes screwed shut, and walls clamping tightly around him. max is whining above you, flinching away from the hot grasp of your inner walls, but daniel won’t let him pull out.

“danny, danny! please–oh–i-i-i’m gonna–not gonna last–‘m gonna cum, if i stay inside her,” max admits, sobbing embarrasingly.

daniel laughs softly from behind max, and shifts so his front is pressed to the dutchman’s back. max shivers at the sound, the hair on the back of his neck rising. “aww, you can’t handle it, darling? don’t worry, i’ve changed my plans for you, anyways,” daniel smugly whispers into max’s ear. dan brings both of his hands to the younger’s waist, and forces him deeper inside of you, ignoring the way max cries sensitively and keeps pushing him forward until he bottoms out. you and max let out twin squeals from the white-hot flash of pleasure; you struggle to adjust to his size as quickly as daniel forced him in–you pulsate around him, it’s like you’re still trying to drag him further in and push him out at the same time. daniel presses a kiss to max’s shoulder blade and praises him, “see, maxy? i knew you could do it—such a good boy f’me.”

max’s eyes roll back, and he can’t fight it–he cums, loudly. his limbs weaken and his body collapses over yours, head falling into your neck, and his lewd moans vibrate through your raw skin. the younger’s body covers you completely, and your knees come up to cradle max’s hips, encouraging him to thrust through the aftershocks. daniel leans back, continuing to bathe the two of you with praise as he lets you guys shudder through the come down. a couple minutes pass before your legs relax and max’s moans die down to breathy hums, as both of your chests heave as you try to regulate your breathing. 

“feelin’ good, my loves?” daniel questions tenderly.

you’re the first to respond, a sated smile sent the australians way, “so good, danny.” max sighs out a breathy “yeah,” muffled into your chest. daniel brightens, “alrighty–maxy, fuck her properly now, and make her cum again.” the dutchman grunts in disbelief, “what? no, i-i can’t, i just came–”

dan cuts max off, “you can’t or, you won’t?” max’s breath stutters at the sudden dominance in daniel’s tone, sitting up to turn his head to look at the older man incredulously. the smile on dan’s face is gone, his expression suddenly firm and unyielding–max can only drop his gaze away from daniel’s eyes, avoiding the piercing gaze.

“max, look at me,” the australian states unflinchingly, and the younger man’s eyes fly to meet his at the command.

“what’s your color, darlin’?”

with his tongue flicking out to wet his lips nervously, max mutely whispers, “green.” daniel’s piercing gaze drops to you and he repeats the question, “sweetheart, what’s your color?”

you squirm under his intense attention—max’s hips stuttering at the stimulation, and your bruised brown thighs squeeze at his waist until he stops—but the slight flare of pleasure that races up your spine decides your answer, “green, danny.”

a smirk spreads across daniel’s lips, “see, you can, maxy,” the younger blushes deeply at his teasing croon, “now, be a sweet prince for me, and fuck our sweetheart, hm?” and with a pinch to max’s hip, he sinks in you deeply with an oversensitive sigh, before he pulls out and sets a slow rhythm to allow you both a little more time to recover. the drag of his cock is coaxing soft shuddery breaths out of your lips, and sharp over-sensitive whines from max. his hands are trembling from where they’re grip flexes on your waist, veins popping with the strength of his grasp, sure to leave a mark on your darker skin. dan’s hands halt the gentle roll of his hips, before the man leads him at a quicker pace. max throws his head back onto daniel’s shoulder, overwhelmed at the feeling of your tight, soaking wet cunt, and cries out “too much—ngh—i-it’s too much!” but aside from all of his whines, he’s getting hard again. unlike max, the sensitivity from your orgasm had faded quickly—if anything, it’s doubling the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. desperate for more, you plant your feet on the bed and start rolling your hips to meet max halfway; moaning yearningly at the change in position.

the younger man frantically tries to force your hips back down, the friction added from you meeting his thrusts is too great. “heyheyhey—none of that, prince,” daniel quickly tugs max’s hands away from your waist, one hand firmly holding them against the younger’s chest, “remember, we made a promise to give her so many orgasms to make up for how mean we’ve been to her. you don’t want to break that promise; right, darling?” max tries to hide his face in dan’s shoulder, but it’s too late—he starts sobbing. daniel watches how the tears rain down max’s cheeks, and how his face crumples so prettily—is it weird that making his usually unbothered boyfriend cry, turns him on?

max sniffles, “n-no, danny. -ll do it, i-i wanna make her cum.” not wanting to disappoint you any further, he starts quickening his strokes on his own, eventually outpacing the rhythm daniel set for him. it dawns on max quickly; he’s not going to last, again. he makes the mistake of looking at the blissed out expression on your face, the knot in his tummy tightening as he watches how your mouth falls open in a moan, wet and inviting. he drops his eyes away, but they fall on where the two of you are connected; the sight causes him to choke on his breath. his own thrusts have forced his cum out of you, frothing at your entrance, smeared all over your labia and staining your inner thighs. if he could eat you out and fuck you at the same time—he’d be doing it. max urgently asks daniel, “d-danny, ‘m gonna cum—please, can i cum?” ignoring max, dan’s hand lets go of max’s, and falls to let his middle and ring finger rub vigorously at your clit. your body jackknifes, a scream leaving your lips at the sudden addition, you choke out a warning, “g’na cum! pleasepleaseplease—” and when daniel’s thumb sneaks down to press gently at where you're wrapped snugly around max, almost like he’s trying to slip in alongside his cock—white flashes behind your eyes and you’re cumming hard. 

daniel hums, satisfied, “now, you can cum, maxy.” the younger had already started coming the second he started speaking. it’s erotic—how the two of yours’ orgasm feeds off of each other. every clench of your cunt has you squeezing tightly around max, causing him to thrust in you deeper, which in turn has you pulsating around him tightly, and the cycle continues. max rides out the two of your orgasms viciously this time around, his hips slamming into you, forcing himself as deep as possible wanting to empty every last dreg of his cum within you. you can only whimper brokenly, not making an effort to calm his grinds, wanting to savor anything you can get before he pulls out of you. with max’s last pump of his hips in you, daniel slowly guides him out of you. the two of you hiss, extremely over sensitive from the two times you’ve cum, so daniel tries to make the affair as smooth as he possibly can. with a squelching pop, max is freed from the tight grasp of your cunt, and dan leads him to lie down next to you on the bed.

you’re still floating, not a single thought in your head, a deep sense of satisfaction coating your mind, but you can vaguely hear daniel checking on max, making sure he didn’t push him too far. you hum quietly under your breath, almost like a purr, eyes shut blissfully as you allow yourself to relax in your afterglow. you faintly register daniel slipping in between your legs, his broad shoulders pressed against the underside of your thighs. you feel his left hand gently press at the raw skin of your thigh, and you fuzzily manage to move it over for him, thinking that he’s trying to clean you up. 

daniel can only stare. the pink skin of your hole has turned to a deeper red, with how max bullied your cunt. his mouth falls open, entranced, at the sight of your bruised pussy winking at him, struggling to close, and he moans softly as the pulsing of your cunt starts pushing max’s cum out of you. the creamy, frothy, white fluid slowly sliding out of you and down your ass. his tongue wets his lips—he wants a taste. dan drops the towel he was holding in his right hand, and brings the now empty hand up to spread your lips with a ‘v’ of his fingers. his eyes flick up to your face, and once he sees that you're still floating, he takes a gentle pass over your entrance with two fingers, collecting yours and max’s combined release. he sucks the mess clean, and a groan rumbles through his chest. fuck—he needs more. daniel quickly finds himself breathing softly over your cunt for the second time tonight, and he can feel how your thighs already start shaking at the exhales of his breath against you. he laps his tongue once in a broad stripe over you, and moans depravedly—and then, he pretty much forced to eat you out; why let this go to waste. 

the minute his tongue slips inside you, your thighs slam shut around his head, trying to halt his overeager movements. daniel doesn’t care, he’d happily suffocate in your cunt if it meant he got to eat max’s cum out of you for the last time. when he slips two of his fingers in to coax more of the cum max fucked deep in you out, your hand flies down and tugs at his curls. daniel pulls his mouth away, growling sharply at the pain from the grip of your hand, but he steadfastly dives back in—he’s going to swallow every last drop you’ll give him. “hngh—too much, –anny, can’t take it—my tummy feels weird—it hurts!” daniel’s hips starting grinding against the bed, and he’s made aware of how painfully hard he’s gotten throughout the night; he hasn’t cum once. daniel moans against your cunt, panting against you, “ya got one more f’me right, sweetheart? yeah, ya do—just let me taste you, yeah?” daniel tunes out your cries again, and brushes his nose against your clit as he laves his tongue over you picking up every drop of cum the two of you have spilled on your swollen cunt. his fingers start to curl upwards as he pulls them out, dragging wetness out from the depths of your walls, and you squeal, any pleads that you planned to say have been suddenly erased from your throat at the sudden pain-pleasure that bursts behind your eyes. your core tightens, and you seize against the bed cumming for the third time this night at daniel’s insistence. this is the most intense orgasm all night, and it feels never ending; all of your senses feel like they’re burning hot, nerves tingling from your scalp to your curled toes. what you’ve failed to recognize is that you're gushing all over daniel’s face. he practically gets waterboarded from where he was pressed against your cunt, but once he realizes that he’s made you squirt, he happily starts drinking down each spray of your fluid, uncaring of how his beard is drenched with your release, and how it puddles underneath your ass. 

he swallows you down to the very last drop, plump lips massaging your labia sweetly. he backs off your pussy, switching to your thighs to collect any wetness he missed out on. when your hand tugs at his curls again, pulling him away when the beard burn gets too much, daniel rises to his knees over you. he tugs his cock out of his briefs, the tip flushed the deepest red he’s ever seen it, and it throbs hotly in his grasp. he uses the hand soaked with your squirt to roughly rub himself off, tattooed thigh spasming, and it takes less than ten pumps of his hand before he’s cumming. with every spray of his hot cum that lands against your swollen cunt, your hips jerk—even that feels too much.

when daniel finishes, he moans at the picture he painted on you—would you let him take a picture if he asked? but his fantasy is disrupted when you squirm up the bed, your hand falling to cup protectively over your cunt, thighs tightening around your hand, and you murmur repeatedly, “no more, no more.” max coos quietly from where he’s laying, still just as fucked out as you, but he tries to soothe your cries. he sweetly pulls you into his chest when tears slip out of your eyes, petting at you clumsily, not quite yet having regained complete control of his limbs. “did so good, schatje. daniel did just like he promised—i-if, if you let him clean you up, we can cuddle and go straight to bed, ok? be good, j-just a little longer.”

you sob messily into max’s embrace, but after a few minutes with max and daniel both reassuring you that they’ve finished pulling orgasms out of you, and comfortingly massaging the already setting soreness of your muscles—your cries die down to sniffles, and you slowly spread your legs open for danny. daniel stares at the mess he created this time around, but dismisses the urge to lick it off you; his only goal right now is to properly clean you up, and make sure you go to sleep feeling satisfied and worn-out. as gently as possible, he takes turns wiping both your thighs and cunt, and max’s thighs and cock, switching when either of you says it’s too much. it takes longer than it usually does, but it doesn’t upset daniel as long as it means the two of you are comfortable. 

“okay, okay,” daniel soothes sweetly, “i’m done. you both did so good for me tonight.”

max blushes at the praise, and with a voice as airy as silk, you whisper, “you ‘ere good too, danny—made me feel r’lly good, thank you.” daniel smiles, his heart warming at your sweet words, “thank you, honey. you’re always so sweet to me.”

“now, let’s move this party to the bathroom so both of you can pee, and take a bath before we sleep, i’ll get some snacks for you to eat too,” daniel orders softly, “i took a lot from the two of you tonight—so let me make sure i put you back together, okay?

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