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hearts-hunger · 8 months ago

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evergreen — part four

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Series Summary: Jake takes you on your first vacation to the cabin the gang stays at every year. When memories of past relationships loom heavy, will this vacation send cracks through the foundation of safety and trust you have in each other?

Chapter Summary: It's raining, and you wake up alone.

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: fluff, angst, emotional h/c | Word Count: 2.3k | Warnings: sexual innuendo

A/N: You voted not to make Jake and Sparrow suffer any more, so I only put in a teensy bit more angst. Let the comfort part of the hurt/comfort commence ♡

You woke with a start, listening to the steady roll of thunder that washed over the sound of the heavy rain in the darkness. The window was still open; you could feel the cold, wet breeze and heard the way it had started to settle in your chest with congestion. You shivered and lay in bed for a long while, watching the way streaks of lightning lit up the room in brief silver flashes.

Jake’s side of the bed was empty. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or bereft that he was gone; part of you wanted to let yourself be held, but the other part of you was ashamed to even be near him. This whole mess was your fault, and you were sick with guilt and regret as thoughts spiraled and spun their wheels in your head.

What had gotten into you? Talking to Jake like that, fighting with him, using him and letting him use you — all of it made you bleakly ill, a rockiness of the mind rather than the body. For its part, though, your body ached and protested every moment; neither of you had been gentle, and the consequences of it made themselves known in the soreness of your muscles and the tenderness of places you knew would be marked on your skin.

You wished Jake were with you, if only so you could let him brush his fingers over the places he’d left bruises and hickeys and red stripes from his nails. To feel his touch be gentler, to return it with a soft glance of your own fingers over his marks; you thought it might help. It felt wrong, unfinished, to leave each other without the conversation and soft laughter and tenderness you always shared after you slept together. Like a puzzle missing the middle piece.

You looked at your phone to see what time it was, and under the glowing numbers reading 7:43 pm, you saw a text from Jake.

Went for a drive, he'd said. I hope I'm back before you wake up, but if I'm not, I love you. Don't be upset, sparrow. We'll talk when I get back. Love you love you.

You felt a weak smile surface as you read it. “Love you love you” was an inside joke, started when you accidently sent the same message twice a few months ago. You set your phone on the bedside table and rose to take a shower, examining the marks on your skin as the hot water ran over them; you hurt all over, in your heart as badly as anywhere physical.

Out in the living room, you found Josh and Baby on the couch, unsurprised to see Dirty Dancing playing in the background as they worked on a puzzle spread out on the coffee table. Danny and Sam were in the kitchen making what smelled like cookies, and you heard the kettle whistle before Sam took it off the heat.

Josh looked up at your entrance and nudged Baby. She looked up too, and their twin looks of concern and mild panic could almost have been comical if you’d been feeling any better.

“Hi, honey,” she said, patting the spot next to her on the couch. “Come here.”

You did as she said, sinking into the overstuffed couch and gratefully accepting the blanket she spread over you. She brushed her hand through your tangled hair, very gently.

“How are you?” she asked.

You shook your head and buried your face in the blanket.

“Okay, sparrow,” she cooed. “Sit tight.” She got up and asked Danny to make you a cup of tea; when she returned, she sat on your other side, squeezing you between her and Josh, and started to brush your hair.

“Joshy?” she asked. He hummed in answer.

“Will you go get your conditioning spray from the bag in the bathroom?” she asked. “I didn’t think to grab it.”

He went to get it for her, and Danny and Sam came in bearing several mugs of tea and a plate of Danny’s famous chocolate chip cookies.

“Here, sparrow,” Sam said, handing your treats to you. “Might be a little warm.”

Josh came back with his fancy, expensive conditioning spray and handed it to Baby.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

His smile was a touch bemused. “‘S just hair stuff, sparrow. I don't mind if you use it.”

The five of you settled in around the coffee table: Sam sat in the easy chair with Danny at his feet, playing with Danny’s hair; Josh sat on the floor to keep working on his puzzle, giving your knee a comforting pat as he did; Baby gently brushed through your hair in slow, methodical movements.

You felt your throat get tight like it did before you started crying. You were so thankful for your family, for their patient and selfless care even when you’d been the one to start all the trouble.

“Jake went out earlier,” Baby told you. “In case you were wondering where he was.”

You nodded. “He texted me.”

“Oh. That's good.” She started to gather your hair into sections to braid it. “He didn’t say when he’d be back, but... maybe you're okay with having a little break, huh?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. “Maybe.”

When your braid was finished, she tilted your head back and kissed the crown of your head. “It’s gonna be alright, sparrow. He can't stay mad at you.”

“Oh, I don't know,” you said weakly. “This one was a doozy. You heard it yourself.”

Josh arranged a set of edge pieces into place. “Yeah, but you... you made up, right?”

The pink in his cheeks made you blush, knowing that your “making up” had been loud enough to be broadcast to everyone else.

“Well, it was sort of... It wasn't really...” You trailed off, embarrassed and sick with yourself. “It was a mistake. Not that we didn't mean to do it, but... we shouldn’t have. Not like that.”

Baby ran a comforting hand up and down your arm. “Yeah. It happens. Heat of the moment and all that. You’ll feel better when you talk to him.”

You gave a bitter, heartsick laugh. “That’s what started the whole thing. I tried to talk to him about the bedroom thing, and... you heard what happened. It was my fault, really. I made it a huge mess.”

Josh frowned. “What bedroom thing?” He looked around and saw that everyone else knew what you were talking about. “I’m out of the loop.”

“Jake picked his old room yesterday,” Danny said, a little dazed and dreamy as Sam played with his hair.

Josh grimaced. “You mean his one from last year? Why? Even I could have told him that was stupid.” He looked up at you. “Now I get why you were yelling at him.”

You couldn't help the tears that spilled over then. As foolish and oblivious as Jake had been, the real fault was with you for not saying anything.

Josh’s expression softened. “Aw, sparrow. I didn't mean to make you upset. I’m sorry.”

You only cried harder, thankful you’d heard that from Josh, wishing desperately that you'd heard it from his twin. Jake had every right to be upset with your passive-agressiveness, but you couldn't help but need some kind of understanding and apology from him.

Josh came to join your on the couch, taking your hands in his. “Sparrow. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I mean, yeah,” you said pathetically, “but I really need to talk about it with him, and he's not here.”

“He shouldn't be gone too much longer,” Sam offered kindly.

“Did he say when he'd be back?” you asked hopefully.

“No, sparrow. I'm sorry. Do you want me to ask him?”

“No,” you said miserably. “Let him go drive around creation for all I care.”

If you hadn't been too busy crying, you would have seen Danny slip his phone out of his pocket to text Jake. Your dear friends, your family, watched you with careful, worried gazes and tried to ask each other silently what to do.

Baby took the lead, maybe in tune with your feminine needs more than the guys could be. She leaned back on the couch and pulled you close to her, stroking a hand over your neatly braided hair.

“Okay, sparrow,” she said gently. “Let’s just sit for a while. You want to watch something else?”

You shrugged helplessly, burying your face against her shoulder.

“I know what we should watch,” Danny said. He pulled something else up on the tv. “This’ll work, right?”

You heard Sam give a soft laugh. “Yeah. Worth a try, anyway.”

The unmistakable sound of the Bluey theme song started to play, and you gave a watery laugh and managed to lift your head from Baby’s shoulder.

“Now you’re just trying to see how much I can cry,” you joked, and you got four sympathetic smiles in return.

“I tried to pick a funny one,” Danny said. “But it’s okay if you want to cry some more, sparrow.”

You settled in to watch a few episodes, and as you laughed together at the antics and tender moments of the show, you decided Danny’s choice had been a good one. Tea mugs were refilled, another batch of cookies taken out of the oven; the only thing that was missing was Jake, and if he’d been there, despite everything, you would have been content.

At the end of the fourth episode, all gazes turned towards the door to see a wet, bedraggled Jake come inside. It was clear he’d hoped to sneak in unnoticed, and when he saw he hadn't, a dull blush showed under the shadowed look on his face.

“Uh, hi,” he said awkwardly.

Josh cleared his throat. “We’re watching Bluey.”

“I see that.” He ran a hand through his damp hair that had started to curl. “Can I... can I borrow sparrow for a minute?”

They all looked to you, and you felt your face heat. Jake was watching for your response with some kind of need you were helpless to resist, not knowing if you could meet whatever need it was but determined to try.

“Sure,” you said, untangling yourself from the blanket and the protective care of your friends to go to the one who needed you, your partner, the love of your life no matter what had happened between you. His look of relief cut you to the quick, and you came close to him and hoped your face showed how much you wanted to love him like he was asking you to.

“Can you get dressed in something warm?” he asked quietly. “I want to... well, I have something to show you.”

“Okay,” you agreed. He could have asked you for the moon, looking rain-soaked and tired as he did, and you would have tried to get it for him. You gave his hand a quick squeeze and left him to get dressed, hearing a quiet conversation between him and your friends drift down the hall.

Dressed warmly as he’d asked, you rejoined him at the door and gladly accepted his hand when he offered it. He led you outside and stood on the porch with you, looking out at the rain.

“You up for a little walk?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. Anything for him.

You walked together in the rain, holding his hand as he led you through the darkness. You didn't ask where he was taking you; he could be leading you out for a late-night swim in the freezing cold river and you’d still go. This was your apology, your assurance that you trusted him, your reminder that you would stick with him in the rain and the dark as willingly as you would on a bright, sunny day. He seemed to know and kept you tucked close to his side, safe and warm and loved, always.

You stopped short when you saw where he was taking you, that sad, strange something that had twisted inside you in bed now untangling into something warm and deep and heartsick with love for him. Under the sheltering canopy of the evergreen trees stood a little tent, snug and cosy and lit with fairy lights, a safe haven in the middle of the storm.

“A love nest,” he said. His voice was hesitant, unsure. “A real one. For you, sparrow.”

You swallowed. You didn't know what to say.

“You don't like it,” he said. It was a statement, not a question, and it broke your heart.

“No,” you said quickly, softly, turning to look at him. He was soaked and cold and tired for love of you, and you felt you could never really tell him how much you loved him.

“A love nest,” you said. You touched his cheek. “For sparrow and her Jake-bird.”

He gave a watery laugh, desperate and sorrowful and so, so relieved. “Yeah. For sparrow and her Jake-bird.”

Your little love nest was only a few paces away, but he needed you here, in this moment, and you wouldn't have denied him for anything in the world. You pressed close and kissed him as the cold rain fell on both of you, and he gave a shuddering sigh as he held your face in his hands and gave you all the love you needed, more love than you could ever deserve.

“I love you, sparrow,” he said. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I love you.”

“Jake.” You hugged him tight, resting in his warmth and safety and the feeling of home he would always give you. “I love you too.”

taglist: @viagvf @allieisacrybaby @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @anthemheatwave @xserenax-13 @musicspeaks @mountain-in-springtime @stardustsecret @alwaysonthemend @madneedshelp @josh-iamyour-mama @dannythedog @thecoldwind @woyayaofdreams @joshkiszkapunchmeintheface

and some cabin fever besties who were excited for this one :) @shutupdevvie @gold-mines-melting @earthlysorrows @brooke-gvf

join my taglist here!

#almost cried writing this i'm not gonna lie #i hope you like it!#jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #cabin fever fics #evergreen fic #maddie writes stuff!

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glow-worms-are-believers · 2 years ago

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Rain on my parade

I can’t find it but this is inspired by that post about how if you create a lot of cold air (like Danny with his ice power) you could potentially create a cold front which would cause rain! So thank you, this was inspired by that wonderful science-enthusiast.

It had been days. At first, Bruce hadn’t given it much thought, forecasts were wrong all the time. That a supposedly warm and sunny day had turned into a near-constant heavy shower wasn’t surprising, so Bruce had gone about his business. When the second day of rain had come around, the vigilante still hadn’t thought too much of it, but as the afternoon rolled around with no change, he got on the phone to make a few inquiries. By day three, he had called Dick in Bludhaven and on day four, the younger hero had actually answered. Considering how sparse communication was between them since Jason’s death, this was an indicator that something was very wrong.

Bruce had already sent out feelers into the underground, he’d contacted some of his less savoury acquaintances. He tried everyone, absolutely everyone, and yet. Nobody had heard anything about a new villain or a meta with meteorological abilities. By day five, Bruce knew he had to do something before everything went out of control. Non-stop heavy rain was not only unnatural for Gotham, it was dangerous. Already, hundreds of homes near the river bed had gotten flooded and people were being forced to find temporary refuge with relatives and hotels if they were lucky and could afford it. There had been no death reported yet, but the longer this went on, the higher the chance of it became. With more rain there would be more flooding that would encroach on the normally dry land and that meant more people being left homeless, not to mention what would happen if the river overflowed completely.

“Bruce, I’ve got something,” Dick’s voice came through the communicator.

“What is it?” The man asked.

“There was a sharp drop in temperature near Milford about six days ago,” the younger man said.

“Send me the coordinates,” Bruce answered as he started putting on the cowl.

They finally had a lead.

Danny was ecstatic. This was the best vacation he had ever had. He owed Jazz so many favours when he finally got back. Not only was she currently covering for him with the parents, she had driven him to the middle of nowhere with his camping gear when he’d asked. She’d said he needed time to relax and this week where he was technically supposed to be doing some kind of fictitious space program was her way of making sure he got it.

The out-of-the-way location was ideal for what Danny had wanted to do for a while, which was testing the limits of his powers. He had messed around with a few of his ability: intangibility, flight, strength, before starting on the newest and thus most exciting one: his ice powers. Since he’d gotten them he’d wanted to test his limits with it. At first he tried to see how much ice he could produce at once and how far he could shoot it. Then it was how long he could maintain the ice and how long it took for it to melt. Then, he decided to find out how cold he could go. This took more concentration and he fell into a state of sharp focus as he sent wave after wave of colder and colder ice away from him. Time started to become meaningless as his ghostly body didn’t need food or rest for a long while longer than normal humans.

By the time he “woke up” six days had passed and he felt as relaxed as he had ever been since he became Phantom. Danny let out a relaxed sigh as he sat down. Jazz would come by tomorrow as they had agreed on one week. That meant he had one last day to do whatever he wanted before he returned to Amity and his responsibilities. This was going to be fun!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #All actions have consequences Danny is about to learn what these ones are #poor danny #he doesn’t deserve the full attention of post-Jason #pre-Tim Batman on him #roxpox #roxpoxwrote

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luxaofhesperides · 1 year ago

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those who serve.

CHAPTER SIX: a break.

read the previous chapter here or the entire fic on ao3.

this is 11.5k.... this fic will never end..... surprise i still have no idea how long this will be. tentatively setting the goal to end at 9 chapters total. taglist will be in a rb, ask to be added or removed!

Danny doesn’t sleep. He dozes lightly, enough for his thoughts to slow down without losing his awareness of the world around him, but he doesn’t sleep.

How can he?

He didn’t find a shady basement full of illegal things. No, he found an entire cave used as a home base for Gotham’s heroes.

It is a very nice cave. Not dark and wet and miserable at all, as he thought all caves were. It did have bats, though, but most stayed away from the main cavern. And it was big; multiple different levels, all full of different things. Part of him wants to go back to snoop around, but the larger, more wary and sensible part wants to run away and pretend this night never happened.

Danny stays in bed until the clock hits 7AM. Then he heaves a sigh and pulls himself out of bed, forgoing changing out of his pajamas in favor of walking through walls directly to the kitchen. He’s still reeling from what he’s discovered, torn between wanting to run away and wanting to learn more about them.

They’re heroes. Actual, legitimate heroes, and he works for them. When else is he going to get a chance like this?

But if they see him as a threat…

Well. It’s not like Danny has much. If he needs to, he can just walk out of the manor and never be seen again.

Although, it might be a little harder now that he has a legal identity and they can put out a missing person report on him.

The kitchen is dark and still when he arrives. Even Alfred isn’t up yet, it seems. Which makes sense; if he’s wrangling a bunch of heroes until three in the morning, he’d need to wake up later in the day to get enough sleep. Danny hopes it’s not a regular thing, staying up to help the rest of the Gotham heroes—who he still can’t believe are the Waynes—because that would mean Alfred had been forgoing sleep or running off of very little in order to have their dawn chats while Danny was living on the streets.

He should make breakfast for Alfred.

The rest of the Wayne family can fend for themselves. Though he doubts any of them will wake up until much, much later.

A large part of him still balks at rummaging through someone else’s kitchen without permission. Never mind that in order to do his job, he has to; his poor Midwestern heart demands he respect other people’s spaces. He has to push it down as hard as he can just to open the fridge and look through it, trying to think of what he can make.

Nothing too difficult. He can barely make pasta dishes on his own and he still tenses when the fridge opens, fully prepared to take down reanimated food.

There’s a lot of fresh vegetables and fruits. Milk and eggs, too. That’s… maybe something he can work with?

Danny pulls out a few fruits and sets them onto the counter next to the sink. It takes him a few seconds of indecision to decide on which knife to take from the knife block, then grabs the smallest one he can find, just to be safe.

It’s not like he needs a big one to peel and cut fruit.

He makes a mess trying to get everything plated, apple peels of all different sizes scattered on the counter and strawberries bleeding down his hands as he cuts them into halves after removing the leafy heads. They don’t come up exactly even, but it’s good enough that Danny decides he can serve them to Alfred without shame.

Cracking the eggs goes fine, after he’s done with the fruits. No pieces of shell fall into the greased frying pan and the yolk is intact until he accidentally hits it when trying to move the egg closer to the middle of the pan. Fuck it, he decides, frantically mixing it all together, scrambled eggs it is.

No one will know he messed up. No one.

He seasons the eggs lightly, then gets them on a separate plate.

Fruits and eggs doesn’t seem very filling, so Danny hunts through the refrigerator once more and comes out with a tub of vanilla yogurt. He scoops it out into a small bowl then tops it off with granola and honey.

Fruits, eggs, yogurt. That’s a breakfast, right? It’s the healthiest and fanciest breakfast he’s ever made. He certainly never got this back home, usually going for cereal or bread on the days he wasn’t running late to school.

Danny sets everything onto the kitchen table, ready to wait for Alfred to wake up. Then he realizes he hasn’t set out anything to drink and panics, tearing through the cabinets like hurricane, frantically searching for tea.

This house doesn’t use teabags, he realizes with despite when he comes up boxes up boxes of loose tea leaves.

Did people really drink it like this? How?

He brings down a box of English breakfast tea; it sounds perfect for Alfred, if only he knew how to brew it.

Despairing, Danny drops his head onto the counter and sighs heavily.

“That was quite the sigh,” a deep voice rumbles behind him. Danny jumps up to the ceiling, floating in the air as he tries to get away from Bruce, who has once again snuck up on him unnoticed. “Ah. Sorry for startling you,” Bruce offers.

It’s hard to believe this man is a vigilante who protects all of Gotham.

“It’s fine,” Danny replies weakly. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I asked you first.”

“I supposed you did,” Bruce concedes with a small smile. “I just came up from the Batcave. I haven’t slept yet, and it’ll have to wait until I return to the manor after lunch.”

It’s even harder to believe that billionaire Bruce Wayne can call anything the Batcave with a straight face, yet here they are. This dimension is so bizarre.

“I just came up to grab something to drink,” Bruce says. He turns his attention to the fridge, looking through it before he pulls out a carton of apple juice and pours himself a cup.

Slowly, Danny floats back down to the ground, silently setting his feet down.

“Don’t tell the kids,” Bruce says as he takes a sip from his cup.

“Um. What?”

“That I’m drinking their juice. They each have their own juice that they are very protective of and they always get in fights over who else is drinking it, or ‘stealing it’ as they say.”

“And it’s you?”

“As I said. Don’t tell, Danny. Let me have my fun.”

“Sure, I guess.” He is amused by that, but the way Bruce is so casual and friendly with him despite having his secret identity be revealed makes Danny’s nerves stand on edge. It reminds him too much of Vlad, always acting friendly and nice to try and sway Danny over to his side, only to react violently when Danny refused.

“I’ll get out of your hair now,” Bruce says, putting his now empty cup down in the sink. “We’ll train later today. And we can talk about the family secret you’ve stumbled upon before you head to bed, alright?”

Not alright, not at all, but Danny did agree to training. Even if that was before he knew about Bruce being a vigilante. As much as he isn’t looking forward to it, he’s also not a quitter. He’ll worry about it more when the time comes. Surely that won’t end badly for him.

“Okay,” Danny says quietly. Bruce gives him a parting nod, then leaves the kitchen. Danny’s eyes follow him until he’s sure the man is gone, not yet ready to turn his back on him. As nice as Bruce has been, he’s also very dangerous. Now, Danny knows why but he’s been burned too many times to just believe someone when they claim to be a crime fighting hero.

Usually, he’s the crime they’re fighting, attacking him with prejudice when all he wanted was to protect people and ghosts from each other.

He doesn’t even want to think about how things would have turned out if he hadn’t met Alfred, if the Wayne family—not a mob family but clearly just as dangerous—went after him without that buffer. Would they have driven him out of Gotham? Made sure he couldn’t be safe in this dimension either?

If things ever go too badly, maybe he can track down Martin Manhunter and beg for help?

There’s nothing more he can do now but see how it all turns out and prepare for the worst. No one else is in the kitchen, and when he strains his hearing, it’s clear that there’s no one nearby. Deeming it safe enough, Danny dares to turn his back to the kitchen entrance and return to his tea making struggle.

Rummaging through drawers gets him a tea infuser he has no idea how to use. To think he used to complain about how long it took to make Jazz’s tea. At least she used tea bags like a normal person.

This is rich people nonsense. This is too much effort for tea. Alfred will just have to do with some water, unless he also enjoys stealing other people’s juice.

He’s just starting to put the tea away when a knock on the doorframe startles him. Danny looks behind him and relaxes when he sees it’s only Alfred, looking as put together as ever despite the early hour.

“Good morning, Alfred,” he says, “I made you breakfast! And I tried to make you tea but I don’t actually know how to make it when it’s not in a tea bag.”

“Good morning, Danny. Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Alfred smiles. “Have you already eaten?”

“Oh. No, not feeling very hungry right now.”

“I would prefer if you ate something. Sit, I will make something light for you.”

“No, no need! I can just eat like. Yogurt or something.”

He really doesn’t think he can stomach anything when he’s still reeling over the fact that his employers have a giant underground cave for crime fighting and has no idea how to interact with them anymore. They seem fine with his powers so far, but what happens when they start to see him as dangerous? Or worse, interesting?

Interesting is what gets him captured and cut open and studied. Danny doesn’t think he can survive that, halfa or not.

“Very well,” Alfred says, but Danny can see the way he forces back a frown, the line of his shoulder drawn tight. Before he can start fixing Danny a bowl, Danny ushers him into his seat and works on quickly taking care of his own small breakfast, leaving his yogurt plain.

Alfred frowns at the amount he puts in his bowl, but doesn’t say anything. He waits until Danny sits across from him to thank him for the breakfast.

They eat in silence, the silence not quite as comforting as it had been in the past. Danny’s too on edge to let his guard down any more, despite how much he wants to trust Alfred. He needs to see with his own eyes that the Waynes mean him no harm, that he can trust them to be good and let him live quietly and safely.

When he can’t take the silence anymore, staring down at his empty bowl, Danny says, “Superheroes, huh.”

“I would be more than happy to answer any questions you have.”

There’s so much Danny wants to ask that it all crashes together into a tangled mess in his head. Instead of important questions like how often is the city in danger to need so many heroes or aren’t you afraid they’ll all die and you won’t be able to do anything about it, what comes out is, “When they asked who my favorite hero was at dinner, were they just looking for an ego boost?”

Alfred laughs, the lines in his brow smoothing out some. “Oh, yes. They are a rather vain lot when it comes to their night identities.”

It eases the tension in the air, makes it easier for Danny to relax enough to focus on the conversation and keep his mouth from running ahead of his mind. “So, I know Dick is Nightwing. Who’s everyone else?”

“They would be very excited to tell you themselves, but they’re also not going to wake up for many hours yet. I will tell you the basics, but I encourage you to ask them about this,” Alfred says. “Master Bruce is Batman. He is the very first vigilante in Gotham. He is among the first generation of heroes and a founder of the Justice League. Master Richard is Nightwing, as you’ve said, and he leads the Titans in New York when he is not here. Master Tim is Red Robin and often works with many other heroes and groups, such as the Teen Titans. Master Damian is the current Robin and Master Duke is the newest of us, operating in the day as the Signal.”

“That’s a lot.”

“There are more. Mistress Cassandra is Black Bat. She has recently returned from Hong Kong. Miss Barbara Gordon is Oracle, who is the leader of the Birds of Prey and works digitally. There are many others who operate within Gotham or visit the manor, and I’m sure you’ll meet them in due time.”

“Great,” Danny offers weakly. So many heroes, just in Gotham. He’s seen firsthand how bad it can be, all the crime and dangerous villain plots, but it’s also concerning to know that this world has such a need for all these heroes. He was enough in his old dimension, as Phantom.

But he wouldn’t be enough here. There’s constant danger everywhere, and he realizes now that he’s taken the peace of him home dimension for granted. Admittedly, at the time, it didn’t seem like peace when he was dodging ghost hunters and the government and trying to wrangle ghosts. But all of that was mostly kept in Amity Park, and he was the person most affected by it so there weren’t many civilians getting caught in the crossfire.

“Do they have powers?” he asks.

“No. All they do is a result of their own skill, hard work, and equipment.”

“So they’re just normal humans beneath the masks?”

“Yes, they are.”

The knowledge sends a chill down his spine. He would panic when Sam or Tucker or Jazz got caught in a ghost fight, even when they were equip with Fenton Blasters or something else that they could use to defend themselves. And that was just against ghosts! Here there are people waving around guns, fully prepared to kill, and the members of the Wayne family go out only in colorful armor?

They could die so easily. All it would take is one good shot, one unlucky hit, and they’re gone forever.

“How do you stand it?”

“Pardon?”

“How do you stand watching them all go out and endanger themselves? How can you be fine with just staying here?”

Alfred leans back in the chair and looks to the window, gaze distant. “I am not fine. I never will be. But I also see how much good they are capable of, how many lives they save because they choose to risk themselves each night. They are all good, good people who want the world to be a better place and are willing to fight for it.”

He pauses for a long moment, lost in thought, then says, “I will always worry about them. Even when they go out as civilians. As much as I would like to keep them safe within these walls forever, I know that they would be unhappy living like that. It’s enough to know that they will do all they can to come home to me and be cared for. I tend to their wounds and ensure they can rest and heal in the manor. It is very rarely enough, but it’s better than nothing.”

“My parents hurt me,” Danny admits quietly. He keeps his gaze fixed on the table, trying to ignore how tense Alfred becomes, the heavy weight of his full attention. “When they found out what I am, what I can do, I just… stopped being their son and became their… prey? Target? Mission? I wish I had someone like you back then, because then it wouldn’t have hurt so much all the time. But all I had was my sister and my friends and they can’t do much against adults except help me escape.”

“I am so sorry, my boy, that you have had to suffer so much. But you’re here now, and I will take care of you, just as everyone else in this household will. You are not alone, Danny.”

Danny shrugs, slouching in his seat. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“Well!” Alfred claps his hands together, the suddenness of the sound making Danny flinch, then he rises to his feet. “We have much to do today. Would you like to help me make breakfast for the rest of the household? Or would you like to tend to the vegetable garden?”

“What will I have to do for the vegetable garden?”

“Water the plants, pull any weeds, and also pick a few cucumbers and bell peppers, if you would.”

Danny offers Alfred a small salute and slides out of the chair. “I’m on it, boss!”

He ducks out the back door, grateful to be given an escape from the conversation and all the unpleasant memories it brought up, and takes his time walking to the vegetable garden. The sun is fully above the horizon now, and though it’s still cloudy, it’s not enough to block out the sunlight that rains down onto the garden.

He hits up the small shed for a water can, then fills it up to the very top until it spills out whenever it’s jostled. He waters each raised bed, making sure the to get every inch of dirt thoroughly soaked.

It takes refilling the water can another four times before everything is watered and tended to. There are barely any weeds to pull, but he searches carefully just in case any escaped him the first time, then gets to carefully picking cucumbers and bell peppers, lifting up the hem of his shirt to create a makeshift basket.

All of that takes the better part of an hour, which is apparently enough time for more people to wake up, and for Alfred to make a full spread of breakfast left on the kitchen island, while the man himself is nowhere to be found.

Damian is sitting at the table, eating, when he reenters the kitchen. Danny freezes for a moment and just looks at Damian, takes in how young he is, how small, and is horrified that anyone lets him out so late at night to fight crime.

“Good morning,” Damian says, setting down his fork, “As you now are aware of our secret identities, let it be known that if you endanger any of us, I will remove your limbs for your body. Slowly.”

“Sure,” Danny replies, distracted as he tries to get all the vegetables onto the counter without dropping any of them. “Sounds fair. Quick question: aren’t you too young to be fighting crime? Shouldn’t there be an age requirement or something?”

Damian scoffs. “I have trained since I could walk. I am made to be the heir to the Bat and the Demon’s head. I am more than capable of defeating the criminals of Gotham.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole situation.”

“It’s none of your business anyways. As long as you stay out of it, none of this will be a problem for you.”

“As long as I’m here, I won’t be able to stay out of it,” Danny says. “I just don’t have that kind of luck. The world always finds some way to screw me over.”

Damian doesn’t speak again, so Danny takes that as his cue to focus on putting all the vegetables away. There’s nothing more they can add to that conversation anyways, so Danny is more than happy to put it behind him and pretend at normalcy again.

He wonders where Alfred went, wondering if it would be rude to just leave while Damian is still around to search for him. He’s still pondering it when Damian asks, quietly, “Do you really want nothing to do with our… night lives?”

The thing is, just two years ago, Danny would be jumping at the chance to be a hero. A proper one, working alongside other heroes to save people. But a lot has changed since then. The Danny who existed back then was always moving, always trying out some new trick with his powers, always trying to juggle heroics and normal life. He was innocent.

Or, at least, as innocent as anyone so familiar with death could be.

As he is now, Danny is just tired. He doesn’t want people to get hurt, and he’ll protect them if he can, but he’s so tired of being scared and hated and hunted down.

He’s a kid too. He was even more of a kid back when he was fourteen.

Why did no one protect him?

That’s not a fair question to ask, really, because he did have his friends and his sister and a few ghosts who would do their best, but it wasn’t enough.

“No,” Danny answers, voice hard. “I’m done with all of that. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Were you a vigilante too? Before you arrived here.”

Danny turns to face Damian and leans back against the counter. He doesn’t look at the kid, really, just at the floor in his general direction. “I don’t know.”

“How could you possibly not know? Either you are, or you aren’t.”

“It was complicated,” Danny snaps. “I was trying to protect everyone. But a lot of them didn’t see it that way. Just saw me as a threat, or am monster, or something. God, the government was out to get me.”

“Vigilantes are not usually well liked,” Damian says.

“Yeah, well, most vigilantes still get human rights. I got nothing. Everyone like me got classified as non-sentient, so we had no protections. If they wanted to experiment on us and cut us open, there was nothing stopping them.”

“And where was this taking place?” The clear rage in his voice startles Danny, makes him look up and warily eye the way Damian is gripping his fork, looking as if he wants nothing more than to bury into someone who’s wronged him.

“...It doesn’t matter,” Danny says slowly. “There’s nothing any of you can do. And it’s too far away to matter. Does that answer your question?”

Damian lets out a slow breath, forcing himself to call down. Danny can almost hear Jazz’s voice in his ear, counting slowly and saying Good! Now again, deep breath in and—

He shakes his head, trying to force her imagined voice away, and focuses on Damian’s controlled breathing; in, out, in, out, slowly each time.

“Every answer we get,” Damian says at last, “Brings up more questions. We will find where you came from. You can make things easier for us by just telling us your background.”

“Not a chance in hell, dude.”

Damian clicks his tongue and stands, holding his empty plate. “Very well. We’ll just investigate as we usually do. You won’t be able to keep your secrets from us forever.”

“I can do my best, though.”

“You will not be joining us as a vigilante,” Damian says again, putting his plate in the sink.

Didn’t they just cover this? Was Danny not clear enough?

“Right,” he confirms, “No heroics for me.”

“I will ensure you have proper protections befitting an associate of the Wayne family, then.”

Danny blinks. “What. Hey, wait, hang on. Didn’t we just talk about me not being involved in any of that?”

“Trackers,” Damian says, thoughtfully, steamrolling right on ahead, “A taser, of course. We’ll find a way to hide a few panic buttons on your person. Those will also have trackers, so if you should ever need help, we will be able to find you.”

“I really do not need any of that.”

“I will talk to father about it,” Damian nods.

“Don’t,” Danny starts to say, but somehow Damian is already out of the kitchen, leaving Danny behind absolutely bewildered by all directions their conversation went.

Seriously, what was all that?

Danny huffs, then shakes his head. Not his problem. If it comes to it, he can just go invisible and run away until the Waynes learn to act like normal people. He pushes the entire conversation out of his mind and washes Damian’s plate, then sticks it onto the dish drying rack next to the sink.

He’s not sure where Alfred is, so he busies himself with cleaning the kitchen, wiping the down the table and counters then straightening everything up.

Some more poking around in the kitchen and the rooms and hallways beyond help him find where more cleaning supplies are. He considers mopping the kitchen, but figures that should be saved for after dinner, so any messes he makes while helping Alfred cooked won’t be messing up a newly cleaned floor.

By then, it’s well into the morning, just a few hours away from noon, and Danny hasn’t seen anyone else come by.

He’s… uncomfortable being left unsupervised in someone else’s house like this. Sure, he lives here now, but it’s not his home. He’s just a new employee who doesn’t have any close bonds with anyone in the family. He spends way too long debating on whether he should stay in the kitchen and wait for someone to show up, or if he should go through the manor and find Alfred in order to get some instructions on what he should do.

Eventually, Danny tires of pacing around restlessly and ventures away from the kitchen, poking his head into random rooms and straining his hearing to make sure no one sneaks up on him.

Not that it helps, when a chill races up his spine just before someone taps his shoulder.

Danny whirls around, stumbling away, and holds himself back from lashing out at Cass.

She immediately takes five steps back, giving him space, and offers him a smile and a small wave. “Morning.”

“...Good morning,” Danny returns, looking over her carefully. Cass gives him his time, and he’s grateful that she backed off immediately, but he’s still rattled by the fact that she snuck up on him so easily. The space between them is reassuring, but he’s not foolish enough to think it’s anywhere close to enough if she actually wanted to hurt him.

Cass is a vigilante too. Black Bat, Alfred had said. It goes to stand that she’s as dangerous as the rest of them. He’s sure she’s the scariest of the bunch. There’s just something about her that makes every nerve in his body scream to alertness, prepared for a fight, waiting for a knife to slip into his ribs.

She doesn’t say a thing as he stares at her. Danny shifts his weight off one foot, trying to think of a way out of this situation, and comes up blank.

“So.” He cringes immediately at how he breaks the silence, then rolls with it. Might as well, really. It’s not going to get any worse from here. “Did you want breakfast?”

Cass shakes her head. “Not hungry for food. Hungry for snacks.”

“Oh, well I made cookies last night. I’m not sure where Alfred put them, though.”

She shakes her head again. “All gone.”

Danny blinks. “Huh?”

“Ate them all,” Cass explains, “Last night. Family meeting about you. Very good cookies.”

He’s… not going to unpack all that right now. Or ever, hopefully. “Cool. Which one did you like most?”

“Sugar cookie. The brown one?”

It takes a moment to remember which one that is, with all the cookies he made yesterday, but he recalls that particular batch quickly. “The brown sugar cookies!”

“Yes!”

“I thought they were missing something, so I rolled them in cinnamon sugar. Alfred’s recommendation, really, I was just going to dump cinnamon in the dough. Turned out really good, though.”

“Very good,” Cass says again, nodding sagely. “Best cookies. Make more?”

“Uh, maybe later. I’m looking for Alfred right now?”

“He is calling Jason. I can… guide you?”

Cass offers a hand, still five steps away from him. There’s still plenty of space between them, enough for him to stay out of grabbing reach, but he can take her hand if he wants to. Or he can go intangible and just fall through the wall behind him.

But she’s nice. Terrifying, of course, but nice.

He got scared, and she moved back to give him space. She doesn’t push for questions or explanations, just treats him as if he’s always been here.

Danny looks between Cass and her hand.

He’s going to stay here. He’s staying for Alfred. And now he’s staying because the Wayne family regularly endanger themselves and it makes Alfred upset. He can wonder about running away all he wants; Danny knows himself and he knows he’s here to stay.

He didn’t even run from his parents until they tried to kill him for good, captured him and had the basement prepped for his vivisection. There’s a chance he can make something of himself here, to create someplace he can be safe, and he can’t afford to lose it.

He takes Cass’s hand.

“Yeah, okay. Take me to Alfred, please?”

“Okay,” Cass says, a bright smile on her face. She turns and leads him down the hall, her grip loose and easy to break from. Danny doesn’t let it break.

Cass is both dangerous and kind. Danny’s survived all sorts of dangerous people before. If he can just get his brain to chill out, then he can act normal around her and the rest of the Waynes. He can do this.

She leads him through the manor with ease, as if she could navigate it blind, and opens a door to a little balcony on the second floor that Danny didn’t know about. Alfred turns to face them as soon as the door opens, phone held up to his ear, and he gives them a smile and waves them in, inviting them to sit on the small bench. Cass sits him down on one of the cushions tied to the bench, then pats his head.

“Still training today?” she asks.

“Apparently,” Danny answers with a grimace. “Think I can get out of it?”

“No. Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

That’s not really reassuring, but it is nice to know that he won’t be locked in a room alone with Bruce and forced to fight his boss. That’s got to be against some labor law. Sam would probably know.

Cass leaves, giving him one last wave from the door, then disappears back into the manor.

Alfred looks out over the grounds, nodding lightly to whatever Jason is saying. Danny doesn’t want to eavesdrop, so he just bounces his leg and stares up at the cloudy sky, wondering if he’d be able to see the stars on a clear night.

“I shall speak to you again soon, Master Jason,” Alfred says, barely a minute later. “Yes, do take care of yourself. Until next month, then.” And his phone is put away in one smooth movement. Alfred straightens out his waistcoat, then turns to Danny. “I apologize for being away for so long. Are you ready to start the day?”

“Sure. It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? So what’s the plan for today?”

“Well,” Alfred says, looking Danny over thoughtfully. “If you would be willing, there are some lightbulbs that need changing and chandeliers to be dusted. It’s difficult for most people to reach these, but if you are able to fly up and take care of these tasks…”

The thought of causally using his powers out in the open makes his skin crawl with nerves, but it’s too late to try to keep it a secret. He did float down into their secret crime fighting cave. There was no way he was ever going to keep that from the Waynes.

Honestly, if all they want is for him to use his powers for mundane things like this, it’s not bad. Definitely better than being tested and observed like some newly discovered creature.

Alfred just wants some help with household tasks, and Danny’s powers make it easy for him to do them. That’s all.

“Sure,” Danny says, “I can do that.”

It’s normal. Normal enough, anyways.

As long as they keep to this facade of normality, he’ll be fine.

Bruce Wayne apparently does not care to be normal.

This is more a rich people are different from the rest of humanity than it is this is top secret hero stuff. Who has a giant gym in their house complete with a pool and a locker room? On top of a giant crime fighting cave?

It’s absurd.

Danny stares at his locker—complete with his name on it, so he doesn’t accidentally open someone else’s—and wonders what, exactly, a training session with Bruce Wayne is going to look like. He had been expecting basic exercises to see where he’s at, something close to what he does at school in P.E. Now he has to factor in weights, treadmills, and a boxing ring. There’s also ceiling to floor mirrors on one wall and a large section of the room covered in a thick mat, with only a single martial arts dummy on it.

He tries very hard to ignore the wooden swords and bo staffs hanging on the wall. He’s definitely not touching those while other people are around.

Sighing, he decides that putting off this training session isn’t going to make it end any faster and opens his locker.

There’s a set of training clothes already set inside for him. He’s sure it’s perfectly his size. He’s just not going to think too hard about how they managed to get his size at all.

Though the locker room is empty, he doesn’t want to change out in the open. He was the same way in school, and though this often got him teased by the football team for his ‘insecurities’, they quieted down when they saw his scars. Dash never asked about it, but he was always careful afterwards to make sure Danny’s shirt never rode up and revealed anything when he tossed Danny around.

He peeks around the locker room before he hurries into the changing stall, paranoid that he’s being watched somehow. He changes quickly and, sure enough, everything fits him perfectly.

The only problem is that the shirt he was given is short sleeve. Th Lichtenberg scar, made permanent by his death and the ectoplasm that flooded his system at the same time as the electricity of the portal, is clearly visible. The white scar tissue branches down his arm all the way to his wrist, wide and ugly.

He really doesn’t want any questions about it.

Danny takes off the shirt, then puts his long sleeve shirt back on. He can train just fine in it, and if they have a problem with it, they can order him a long sleeve shirt for training.

He takes his clothes to his locker and shoves them in, then takes a few minutes to just breathe, trying to force his nerves away long enough that he can walk out to Bruce without feeling nauseous.

When he finally manages to force his feet to move, Cass and Damian are in the gym as well.

Cass he expected after their morning conversation. Damian is a surprise, and it seems like the boy is trying to act as if he’s not here to watch Danny train, using one of the wooden swords to go through a series of careful movements.

Bruce is waiting on the mat next to the dummy, and he nods when he sees Danny approach. “Come here,” he says, “We’ll do some stretching first, then we’ll see where you are in self-defense.”

Cass looks them both over with a sharp eye, then walks away to pull out a yoga mat and set it just outside the mats. She effortlessly goes into a handstand, then goes down onto her forearms and lowers her legs into a split.

“You’re not expecting me to do that, right?” he asks, looking at Bruce.

He smiles, a small thing that softens the serious expression he had been sporting, and shakes his head. “No, not at all. We’ll just do basic stretches. After me, now.” And with that, he immediately gets started, rolling out his shoulders and stretching his arms and wrists, then dropping down into a forward fold. Danny does his best to follow along, glancing up often to make sure he’s doing everything right.

Stretching is easy. He’s definitely not as flexible as Bruce or Cass, but he doesn’t do too badly. At the very least, he can press his palms flat to the floor in a forward fold.

They’re just finishing up, rolling out their necks, when the door to the gym is pushed open and Tim comes in. “Have we started yet?” he asks, looking a mess. His hair is windswept and tangled and he’s sporting a split lip that he didn’t have yesterday.

“Do I want to know,” Bruce says, and Tim grins.

“Know what? I’ve been having a peaceful, relaxing day. Quit worrying so much, it’s bad for your heart.”

Damian scoffs, swinging his sword down at an angle. “As if any of us would ever believe that you’re not causing messes for us to clean up.”

“What’s that, Gremlin? You’re looking for a sparring partner? You should have said so sooner!” And Tim’s grabbing a bo staff from the wall and throwing himself at Damian without any warning.

Danny makes an aborted sound in the back of his throat, torn between yelling for Damian to watch out and Tim to stop, but Damian isn’t phased at all. He scowls harder and blocks Tim’s attack, then hits back. The heavy thud of their weapons hitting each other echo through the gym, but neither of them get hurt. They dodge each hit expertly, dancing circles around each other, fighting gracefully in ways Danny has never seen.

Bruce clears his throat and Danny snaps his attention back to the man in front of him.

“Why don’t we begin with something easy,” Bruce says. “Punch me.”

“What?”

“Punch me,” Bruce repeats.

Danny stares at him. “I don’t want to hurt you. Aren’t you supposed to teach me how to defend myself, not attack other people?”

“Both require the same skills. The only difference is in how you choose to use it. Now, punch me.”

Slowly, Danny lifts an arm, curling his fingers into a fist, and looks up at Bruce’s face to make sure this is fine. Bruce looks unimpressed, waiting for him to move.

He throws a weak punch at Bruce’s abdomen and is entirely unsurprised when his wrist is grabbed and held in place easily.

“Again,” Bruce says, “And do it seriously, this time.”

Okay.

Okay, he can do this.

Danny steps back, giving himself some space, and takes a deep breath. He’s fought plenty of people before. Mostly ghosts, but still. He can figure out how to fight hand to hand without using any of his powers. He can hold back his strength. He can do it.

He shifts his stance, standing with his feet shoulder width apart, a more stable base, and lifts his hands in front of his face, not curling them into fists but holding them loose. Just as his mother taught him, before she started handing him and Jazz weapons to familiarize themselves with.

Bruce is a vigilante, he reminds himself. They all are. They know how to fight and how to defend themselves. They have plenty of experience and he’s sure they’ve already come up with ways to take him out if they need to.

Danny lets out one last fortifying breath, then looks up at Bruce, who is watching him with a shrewd gaze. Whatever he sees makes him nod approvingly and shift his own stance, no longer casually standing in place but ready to move.

“I will try to stay at human power levels,” Danny says, one last warning before they really begin. “Stop me if I go too far.”

“I can handle anything you throw my way, Danny. Don’t worry about me. This is about helping you be able to protect yourself.”

No more stalling.

Danny darts forward, throwing out a punch. Bruce takes a single step back, twisting to the side so Danny’s fist sails past his body, and sweeps out a leg to trip him. Danny’s already moving, trying to get to Bruce’s back, get out of his line of sight, staying light on his feet.

Distantly, he’s aware of the sound of Tim and Damian’s battle falling silent, but he can’t focus on it as he tries to strike Bruce’s pressure points, darting in and out so he can’t be grabbed. His mother’s old lessons come back to him, body falling into that familiar rhythm, and it’s enough to make him slip up, use a little too much strength.

Bruce staggers back two steps, then is grabbing Danny’s arm and tossing him over his shoulder before Danny can process what’s happening.

Instinct has him floating in place, then his legs shoot out and kick Bruce in the chest, using it as a springboard to jump off of to get some distance between them.

“Good,” Bruce says, giving him a moment to catch his breath. “You’ve had training before.”

“My mom is ninth-degree black belt in mixed martial arts. She taught me a few things.”

“We’ll need to see where you might need some improvements. Otherwise, I give you permission to use your powers against me.”

Danny drops his hands in shock, coming out of his ready stance. “Wait, seriously? I could really hurt you!”

“I promise you, Danny, you really can’t,” Bruce says. “Remember, I’m Batman. I’ve fought gods and monsters before.”

“I don’t know…”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with Danny, even if it means you only stick to flying.”

That’s… reasonable. He does fly a lot; he loves flying. It’s the best part of being a halfa, really. And most of his fights involve him flying. Having to stay on the ground puts him at a disadvantage, and if they really want to train him up to hero standards—

No. He’s not going to be a hero in this world. He’s going to live a quiet, normal life as best he can and he won’t be flaunting his powers around in a world he’s unfamiliar with.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Danny refocuses on the training match and nods. “Flying only,” he says.

He’s up in the air before Bruce can move, darting around him, then ramming into his side like a bulldozer. This, he didn’t learn from his mother. He learned it from Cujo.

Bruce grunts, his breath knocked out of him, and grabs Danny. There’s a brief moment of struggle where Danny tries to get away, but he’s laid out on the floor before he can go intangible.

The lights above him are blinding. Bruce towers above him, all broad shoulders and heavy muscle, looking down, and his face is shadowed enough that is makes Danny’s heart stop and he sees—

Dad, wait, it’s me! Stop, please!

His father wasn’t smiling. There was no manic grin, no booming laughter, no victory cry for catching Phantom. Just his father standing above him, expressionless, as he held up a Fenton Thermos and—

Bruce reaches for him—

“Stop!”

Before anyone can move, before Danny can come back to his sense and make his brain understand that it’s not his father standing before him, ready to capture him and treat him like a thing to be cut open, before he can say anything more, the air shifts.

Cass is there, suddenly and without warning, and slams into Bruce, then tosses him over her shoulder and onto the mats. She kneels with one knee on his chest, keeping him pinned down, and steel in her eyes.

“We’re done,” she says. “Time for a break. Snacks.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Bruce relaxes and nods. “Right. This is enough for today. I’ll make a light training regime for Danny so he can protect himself both with and without his powers. Boys,” he says, looking to where Tim and Damian have been watching them, “If you want to continue training, do so in the Batcave. Don’t use flimsy excuses to learn more about Danny.”

“What excuse? I genuinely wanted to beat Damian up,” Tim retorts, and follows it up with a soft whack to the back of Damian’s head.

“As if you could beat me!”

They’re back to tussling a moment later, weapons thrown aside in favor of slapping the shit out of each other.

It would make him laugh in any other circumstance. As it is, Danny’s frozen, heart jackrabbiting in his chest, staring at where Cass is keeping Bruce pinned, keeping him safe from the man who resembles his father in the lowlight.

He can’t focus on much more than them, frantically trying to piece together the last two minutes to make sure he’s safe, it was just Bruce, everything’s fine. He may have yelled for Bruce to stop, but he’s sure that Cass was moving even before then.

Somehow, she had known that he needed to get out of that situation. Needed distance from Bruce. Needed protection.

And she had given it to him.

Dangerous and kind indeed.

“Go,” she says, pulling Bruce back up to his feet. “I will stay with him.” She doesn’t give him any time to argue, pushing him towards the door.

Then she shoots Tim and Damian a look and they immediately disengage from their fight. Damian tosses his wooden sword over to Tim, who snatches it out of the air without even looking at it and puts both their weapons back on the wall. They leave within a minute, closing the door behind them.

A stillness settles over the room, the world gone quiet now that it’s just him and Cass.

He’s shaking, he realizes. His hands tremble where they rest on his chest and it takes far too much effort to force himself to sit up.

Cass doesn’t comment on it. She just sits down next to him, giving him enough space that he feels comforted by her presence rather than trapped.

“Sorry about that,” Danny manages to say at last, forcing the words out. His voice is rough and his heart feels like it’s been scrapped over with sandpaper.

“No.”

“What?”

“No sorries. Bruce went too far. Saw you weren’t… safe? Did not stop, so I made him.”

“I’m still sorry you had to get involved.”

“Danny,” she says, then waits until he looks at her. “It’s okay. I always beat Bruce. It’s good for him to lose sometimes.”

He can’t help but smile a bit. Between her and Tim, he can see that Bruce’s kids really enjoy causing him trouble. That’s how it’s supposed to be with siblings; everyone teams up against the parents. All siblings have to unionize, that’s how every world works.

“Thanks.”

Cass reaches out a hand. This time, Danny doesn’t hesitate to take it.

They sit in silence for a long time. His heart settles down and the last of his fear dissipates; the guilt of being so terrified of just the idea of his father towering over him remains, but that’s something he’s sure will accompany him for the rest of his life. Cass doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t push for conversation, and simply waits patiently as he regains him composure.

As much as he’d like to, he can’t hide away in the gym forever.

He begins to stand and Cass follows him up, keeping hold of his hand. She looks him over carefully, then nods and pushes him towards the locker room.

“You’re not going to ask questions about…” Danny waves a hand through the air, “All this, right?”

“No questions,” Cass reassures. “Tell when you want to. Even bad memories are important. Yours to keep.”

“Okay. Thanks for being so cool about all this.”

Cass gives him a sunny smile. “Go. Change. I will get Alfred.”

Danny offers a weak salute, then heads off to the locker room to change, happily chucking off his training clothes and dropping them into the laundry chute.

Training was a disaster in a different way than he expected, but either way, he’s relieved it’s over. Now, all they have to do is pretend his little panic never happened and they can all move on with their lives.

Alfred must see that resolve on his face when he exits the gym. Danny isn’t asked any questions as they walk through the halls, simply told about the chores that need to be completed. They don’t come across any members of the Wayne family and Danny can’t help but feel that’s purposefully, that they’re avoiding him to keep him from getting spooked and running away.

Danny takes over dusting the high rafters and corners of the ceiling, sneezing when a particularly strong sweep of the duster over the top of a hanging light fixture brings up a cloud of dust. Below him, Alfred vacuums and straightens out rooms, calling out directions to help Danny get everything clean.

Once the sun begins to set, Alfred sends Danny to the kitchen while he puts away all their cleaning supplies. Dinner prep has apparently been taken care of while he was training with Bruce; all Danny has to do is start the oven and pull everything out of the fridge.

He wants to offer to set the table, be more helpful, but the thought of seeing everyone again has his throat tightening up, bringing up the residual panic that hasn’t left him since he fell through the Infinite Realms into the streets of Gotham. Instead of helping more with dinner, Alfred pulls out a thick recipe book, paged faded with age, and sets him on making a cake for dessert.

Danny manages to get all the ingredients together, measured carefully and mixed slowly so none of the flour spills out of the bowl. He does well enough that Alfred decides he can safely leave Danny without any supervision in order to bring dinner to the dining table where the Wayne family waits.

In the time he’s alone, Danny tries very hard not to mess anything up, folding in melted chocolate into the batter.

He works slowly enough that Alfred is able to return before Danny tries to hunt down a baking pan. He wordlessly pulls one out of a cabinet and sprays it with cooking oil before setting it on the counter next to Danny, watching with a shrewd eye as Danny pours out the batter, using a rubber spatula to scrape batter down from the sides of the bowl.

“Very good,” Alfred comments, then instructs Danny to lift the baking pan and drop it onto the counter gently a few times to break any air bubbles in the batter.

They get it in the oven and start the timer after that. Alfred pulls out another mixing bowl and gets to work making buttercream frosting, showing Danny how to separate the egg whites from the yolk.

Danny is not ready to try it on his own, but it’s cool to see how it’s done. Alfred does everything so precisely, with clean movements and nothing wasted. It’s beyond impressive. Danny can only hope he can emulate some of that one day.

The smell of rich chocolate cake fills the kitchen and Danny feels his mouth start watering. He hasn’t had much to eat since lunch, and even that was small. For once, he’s feeling hungry enough to eat a horse, and is a strange mix of embarrassed and elated when his stomach growls loudly.

“Oh my,” Alfred laughs, “I see that cake never fails to wake a boy’s appetite.”

Danny shrugs sheepishly, and allows Alfred to usher him into a chair at the kitchen table. He watches as Alfred bustles around the kitchen, whipping together a quick meal of sauteed radishes, sliced in halves and with the leaves included, and a wrap so full Danny worried it would burst when he bit into it.

It’s a bigger meal than what he’s used to, made with larger portions and heavier ingredients, but all the events of the day have drained him of enough energy that Danny all but devours his dinner. He even brings out his fangs to tear into the wrap more easily, eating quickly to sate his hunger.

“How are you liking your food, Danny?”

“It’s delicious!” he answers with his mouth full.

“Do try to avoid talking with food in your moth,” Alfred gently reprimands, and Danny shoots him a thumbs up, trying to chew faster.

“I can have some of the cake later, right?”

“Of course. So long as you finish your dinner, then I will give you the first slice.”

Danny clears his plate in record time and has everything washed and dried by the time the oven beeps. Alfred opens the oven door, flooding the kitchen with warmth and an even strong aroma of chocolate, then slides on a pair of Batman oven mitts; they’re black, with a bat symbol on the back and little white eyes glaring out from the fingertips, and have little bat eats sticking out from the tops. He has to bite back a laugh and wonders how much of their own merch the Wayne family owns.

“Now we must wait for it to cool down before we can frost it,” Alfred says, setting the cake down on the counter.

“Can I use my powers to help it cool faster?”

“How do you intend to do that?”

“Well,” Danny says, holding up a hand, “I can make ice.” He lets his fingers frost over, his ice the pale blue of an iceberg’s submerged bottom. “I can freeze the counter space around and under the cake.”

Alfred looks intrigued, which is a good sign. “Would it not melt?”

“Not unless I want it to.”

“Then by all means, Danny.” He steps back to give Danny space to work, watching as Danny presses his fingers to the counter and lets the ice spread from the point of contact, circling the cake. He pushes his ice to be a few degrees cooler than usual and feels the chill race up his arms.

It’s comfortable for him, but he knows he shouldn’t touch anyone until he warms back up. Sam and Tucker have told him plenty of times that he’s colder than ice after he uses his powers, a biting kind of cold that always hurt their hands.

“It should be cool enough soon,” he says, stepping back from the counter and shaking out his hands.

“Thank you, Danny. Would you mind keeping the frosting cool as well?”

“No problem, Alfred!” He ices over the frosting bowl; it’s not quite as cold as the ice on the counter, but enough to keep the frosting chilled. “Do you want me to do anything else?”

Alfred thinks it over for a moment, then shakes his head. “Not at the moment, no. Go take a break. I’ll wash up and get everyone’s dishes. Master Bruce would like to speak to you as well, when you’re ready.”

Oh, great. No more running from questions, it seems.

His mood plummets immediately, but he still forces up a smile for Alfred. “You got it. I’ll just… wait for him to get me, then.”

He’s out of the kitchen before Alfred can offer an platitudes, wandering aimlessly until he ends up in the grand foyer. He flies up to the ceiling and sits upside down, legs crossed, and tries not to think about training and all the explanations he doesn’t want to give.

His thoughts drift towards Amity and he misses it with an ache. He never planned to stay there forever, already looking for out of state college options, joining the rest of his class in wanting to leave and find their way into the wider world.

But all he wants now is an hour at Nasty Burger with his friends, a trip to the bookstore with Jazz, the familiar shared panic as everyone on the road tried to avoid the Fenton AV whenever his parents decided to go grocery shopping. Hell, he even misses Caspar High and the stress of having his work pile up as he fought ghosts and ghost hunters and his own procrastination. He misses the park where he’d play fetch with Cujo. He misses flying through the clear skies of Amity, the way the lights of the city shone up to him from where he rested high above it all. He misses the empty fields and forests and the clear air that Gotham will never have.

Danny is so far from home. He doesn’t think he can ever go back.

Would he even have a home if he found some way back to his original dimension?

His parents know the truth now. They captured Phantom, trapped him in the Fenton Thermos, and when they opened it again, Danny came out. He transformed immediately, full of panic and fear, begging for something as his mother sank into denial, shooting at him, while his father was emotionless and Jazz was screaming as a distraction, for him, at being pushed down by her parents as they focused all their attention on Danny.

The last thing he ever heard from his home was Jazz screaming I hate you! How could you! Danny is⁠—

And then the Infinite Realms wrapped him in its embrace and took him away.

“Danny?”

Danny jolts and falls from the ceiling. His stomach drops and he braces himself for impact, too out of it to use any of his powers. Instead of hitting the floor, he crashes into someone’s chest, their arms wrapping around him to hold him steady.

He blinks his eyes open and looks up at Bruce, who gives him a moment to collect himself, then sets him down on his feet. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Danny says, voice hoarse. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just startled.”

“If you don’t feel up for a conversation⁠—”

“No, no, let’s just get this over with. The sooner the better, right?” He offers Bruce a strained smile, but it falls from his face quickly.

“Alright,” Bruce says slowly. “Let’s head up to my office.”

He guides Danny up the stairs, keeping a heavy hand on his shoulder. It makes Danny feel trapped, but he’s too tired to get away. He’s resigned to this happening and just wants it to be over already.

When the door closes the behind them, it sounds final in Danny’s ears. He sinks into the armchair off to the side of Bruce’s office, rather than taking one of the more uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk.

Bruce sits across from him on the lounge couch, elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled together.

“Danny,” he begins. “I know you’ve had a stressful day, but it’s important that we discuss this now.”

“Discuss what,” Danny says tiredly. He’s not asking, not really, just trying to lead Bruce to where they need to go.

“You are aware of our identities as Gotham’s vigilantes.”

“I’m still not very familiar with any vigilantes. I don’t really know anything other than your names.”

“But you know our identities. You know where we live and where we operate from. This is dangerous information; in the wrong hands, it will destroy us and leave Gotham to be torn apart from the inside by all the corruption we work to keep off the streets.”

Irritation prickles down his spine. Danny knows how important secret identities; look at what happened to him when he was discovered. Logically, he knows Bruce has no way of knowing this, but emotionally, Danny wants to snap at him, hurl insults and accusations to distract from his own hurt.

“This must remain secret,” Bruce continues, leaning forward some. “We will know if you reveal this information to anyone.”

“If you’re going to threaten me, can you just do it outright?”

Bruce blinks, then leans back, his brow furrowed. “What?”

Danny sighs and folds his arms across his chest, holding himself in a mockery of a hug as he looks away. “I get it, this is a big deal and having an outsider suddenly in the know is a huge risk. But I also need you to consider who I am.”

“And who are you, Danny?”

“A homeless runaway freak of nature. I have no support in Gotham. I have no one outside of Alfred that I can rely on in this country. You talk as if I have any power over you, but I don’t. Who would I even go to? Who would believe me?”

“Reporters would pay a lot for information like this⁠—”

“That’s not the point,” Danny interrupts, a bite in his voice. “The point is that even if I know all your identities, you’re still the one who has power here. I am entirely dependent on you for housing, food, safety. You’re my boss. The only reason I have anything, including a legal identity, is because of you. And you can take it away at any time.”

“I wouldn’t⁠—”

“People can excuse anything when they’re desperate enough.”

Bruce falls silent, staring at Danny with dark eyes. His expression is unreadable, as warm as stone, and Danny tenses in preparation for something awful; being fired, or kicked out, or imprisoned.

“No matter how good they think they are, or try to be,” Danny continues, his voice growing quieter, more tired, “When the time comes, they’re willing to do anything to get what they want. No matter who you are to them. No matter what they have to do to you.” He looks over to Bruce, finally meeting his gaze. “Do you understand? You don’t have to threaten me because my entire existence here is a threat to my survival. I can only hope that everyone will be kind for another day before they decide I’ll be better off being cut open by scientists and studied.”

“Is that what happened to you? Why you ran away?”

“That isn’t important. It’s none of your business.”

Bruce frowns. “If it puts you in danger, it is my business, as you’re a minor in my care.”

“I am always in danger, okay? The details don’t matter. If you make me talk about it, I’ll run away and make sure no one can ever find me again. Got it?”

“Understood,” Bruce says after a tense moment. “I won’t push. But if you ever want to talk⁠—”

“Yeah, no. Not going to happen. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

He leans back, straightening up. “There is. In regards to training⁠—”

Here it is. Danny just said he didn’t want to talk about, so Bruce hops right into the next topic of conversation that will make them talk about it.

“⁠—You have a good foundation to grow from. It would benefit you to learn how to handle a few of our weapons as well, and if there’s something you want to learn that we can’t provide for you, we can find someone else to train you. I will need to know what your triggers are so I can avoid frightening you as I did today.”

“I don’t have triggers,” Danny says, “I just don’t trust anyone but Alfred and Cass to not really hurt me. It’s just how it is.”

“...Very well.”

“Is that all?”

Bruce nods. “For now, yes. I know one of your conditions was not being involved in our nightlife, but if you’d ever like to learn more or see more of the Batcave⁠—properly, this time⁠— then we’d be more than happier to lead you through it.”

His gut reaction is to turn it down immediately, to ensure he doesn't have anything to do with their ‘nightlife.’ But Alfred’s involved.

All Danny is here to do is help Alfred, and that apparently includes wrangling vigilantes into surviving each night and being tended to. He already knows he’s going to join Alfred down there one day, but he’s not ready for it yet.

“Maybe some time in the future,” Danny offers. “Not any time soon, though.”

“That’s fine, Danny. We’ll go at your pace.”

A knock on the door stops the conversation from continuing. Damian opens the door and comes in before he has permission.

“Are you finished yet?” he asks, looking between Danny and Bruce.

“Uh, just about. Why?” Danny replies.

“We cannot eat any cake until you have the first slice.”

Conversation fully over; Danny has cake to eat and he needs to get to it right away. It’s way more important that talking to Bruce about his trauma and the family’s secret vigilante activities.

“Sweet, let’s go get cake.”

He stands and Damian turns back to the door, ready to go. He stops at the doorway and glances back to Bruce, then asks, “Is he to remain aware of our nightly activities?”

“Yes, he is,” Bruce answers.

“I will be showing you where all the supply caches in the manor are,” Damian tells Danny. “They will hold either weapons, first aid kits, or fire extinguishers. It is crucial to memorize the location of all of them in the event of an emergency.”

“Isn’t this place safe? I mean, you all live here.”

“We hold events here, unfortunately,” Damian scowls. “There’s a gala coming up, in fact. You will need to know all of this before it begins. We shall start after we eat cake.”

From what he’s seen and heard of Gotham so far, this really is for the best. If this were Amity Park, Danny would call this behavior overly paranoid. Here, it’s an appropriate level of preparedness.

“After cake,” he agrees, following Damian as he leads the way out of Bruce’s office .

He’ll worry about everything else after that promised first slice. As long as he’s got Alfred on his side, he’ll deal with anything thrown his way.

(“Don’t push,” Cass warns. “He’s like me. Will run.”

Tim sighs and slumps against the counter. “I just need to know more in order to help him! Come on, Cass, don’t tell me you don’t want to beat up everyone who’s ever hurt him.”

“Only if he wants to tell us,” she says, firm in her stance.

Alfred nods approvingly from where he’s slicing the recently frosted cake. Danny’s ice remains on the counter, and he makes a mental note to ask the boy to remove it before he goes to sleep.

“Miss Cassandra is right,” he interjects when Tim opens his mouth to speak, trying to find some way to change Cass’s mind. “Danny has had a difficult life and needs time and space to trust us and feel safe in the manor. I will not allow anyone to push him more than he can handle, simply because they could not handle their own curiosity.”

“You’d better tell that to Bruce, then. You really think he won’t interrogate Danny?”

Alfred sets down the cake knife with more slightly more force than necessary. “He has been warned. Should I hear that he did not take my warning lightly, I will ensure he faces the consequences of disregarding Danny’s needs.”

“Well,” Tim says, “You’ve got me and Cass to back you up. Danny will be fine with the three of us in his corner.”

“I do hope so,” Alfred replies. Cass is looking towards the kitchen door, so he begins to plate some of the slices. She has a sixth sense for knowing when someone is approaching, and when she’s around, Alfred takes his cues from her to make sure everything is prepared when they enter the room.

Sure enough, just as he’s finished plating the last slice, the door opens and Damian enters with Danny trailing after him, looking paler and wrung out.

It seems he will have to remind Bruce about Danny’s boundaries. Tim and Cass will be pleased to take on this new mission, and from the look in Damian’s eye, so will the youngest Robin.

Good.

He won’t let anyone push Danny out of the manor. Not while he still has breath in his body.)

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc fanfic #those who serve #my writing #this chapter is actually all abt cass appreciation everyone give her the love she deserves!!!#and also a reminder that bruce is a very paranoid character who often makes things worse bc his paranoia got ahead of him hence the convo #abt the power he has over danny via social standing #hes still nice and a good person but he's also thinking worse case scenario and it blinds him to the fact that danny isn't a threat #anyways IM BACK BABEY #butler danny au #alfred's apprentice au

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annashadowstar · 1 year ago

Text

Mirage, Danny, and Annesa Felizima-@capturecharlesau

Crusher, Jay, Ulle, and Scottie -@jaytoons7

Amelia -@androidcharles

Brutus-@smoresthehalloweenqueen

Accordion and Violin -@bluetorchsky

Nicole -@lovelygirlnicole15

Cameron Calvin -@rarestdoge

Here’s the translation

Chapter 3: Food Thief

“ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ᓭ⚍∷ᒷ ╎ℸ ̣ ’ᓭ ᔑ ⊣𝙹𝙹↸ ╎↸ᒷᔑ?”

“∴ᒷ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ᔑリ|| 𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ ᓵ⍑𝙹╎ᓵᒷ. ∴ᒷ リ��ᒷ↸ ⎓𝙹𝙹↸. !¡ꖎ⚍ᓭ, ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣ ╎ꖎꖎ ⊣∷𝙹∴╎リ⊣.”

“I ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ⎓ᒷᒷꖎ ʖᔑ↸ ⎓𝙹∷ ᓭℸ ̣ ᒷᔑꖎ╎リ⊣.”

“Yᒷᔑ⍑. Mᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹𝙹…”

————————————————————

Mirage wakes up unpleasantly. Why? Danny busts into his room and calls for a meeting in 10 minutes. He did that to everyone else, making them a meeting in 6 IN THE FREAKING MORNING. Mirage walks down to the kitchen with a messing hair. He then looked around and noticed most of them looked very tired. Crusher hands Mirage a cup of coffee. “Want some?” Mirage gladly took it. “Why did you wake us up in the middle of the morning?” Mirage took a slip of his coffee. Danny sigh. “Someone stole our food again.”

Mirage almost spits his coffee. “Again?!” Danny nods. “They took only small amounts of our food and they left a note. Does anyone know how to read this?” Danny hands the note for everyone to see. Here’s what it says: gibberish. “How the heck do we read this?” Mirage asks, then everyone looks at Amelia, hoping she can translate it. Amelia's sweat drops. “Don’t look at me! I have no idea what it says. I don’t even know that language.” Amelia put her hand up as in surround. ‘But, aren’t you a android?’ Annesa asks with her sketchbook. “Not all androids know everything. They didn’t even have that language when I was awake. Plus, why can’t we do this later?”

Seems like everyone loses hope. Then their kitchen phone rings. Danny went up to pick it up while the others looked at the note the thief left behind. “Hello? This is Dan-” Danny was met by a loud yelling. “DANNY!! THIS IS BRUTUS!! I know it’s very early in the morning but please, come to our house and we will explain everything! Oh, and please bring a strange note with weird writing with you if you have any! Ok, Bye!” Brutus hangs up before Danny and says a single thing. Danny then walks back to the group, still trying to process what just happened. “Who’s that?” Mirage asks. “It’s Brutus. He wants us to come to his house with this note for some reason. Maybe he can understand this language.”

Everyone went back to their room and changed their clothes. Mirage finished changing and began to walk out of his room. This time, he didn't bring the feather with him. Mirage walks to his front door and waits for others to come. Crusher comes next. "Food thief, huh? You think you can read this?" Mirage rolled his eyes and took the paper from Crusher. He could make a few words. There's a word 'for' and 'your'. That's all Mirage could read.

"OK, we're ready. Let's go." Danny has to carry Annesa since she's too tired. Once they arrived at Accordion's house, he quickly let them in and put Annesa on Cameron's bed. "So, what's the rush and why do you call everyone here?" Jay asked, very tired, since it was early in the morning. "So, you all have this letter in your fridge with weird letters?" Everyone nods. "Well, believe it or not, those are from that lad."

Everyone rather tensed up or froze. That place is a nightmare. "How do you know?" Brutus bit his lips. "I'm the last hybrid that escapes from that place. They had been trying to teach other hybrids to speak standard galactic language." Brutus explains. "You know what they say?" Ulle asked, handing the note she had to Brutus as he took it and read it. "This one says... 'We need to live. Hope you understand...' I think I read some wrong... What does yours say, Amelia?"

Amelia looked at the note and couldn't make a single word out of it. Only a few letters. "Um... I could only make some letters. Like 's, o, y, and... that's all." Brutus could only sign. He’s the only one who knows this language. “Anyone eat breakfast yet?! I made some sandwiches. Scottie yelled in the kitchen as everyone followed. Accordion and Violin were talking about what they needed for the babies, Ulle and Nicole were hanging out, Scottie and Danny were talking about what should they make during lunch, Amelia and Annesa were having a drawing competition, Crusher and Jay were having a conversation about Jay’s magic, Cameron and Brutus were trying to figure out who wrote this letter, leaving Mirage alone, got no one to talk with.

Damn, just how much he wants to show his hybrid form. Then he clicked. When was the last time that everyone showed their hybrid form? Maybe this can keep their head away from that strange letter. “Hey, guys.” Everyone turns to Mirage. “We have a pool in our backyard. Since it’s gonna be very hot today, why not come to our house and have a little cool down?”

Everyone seems to like that idea. It will keep their mind away from the food thief for a while. "But let's eat up first before we start having fun. It's still in the middle of the morning after all." Violin points out. Everyone agreed and went back to eating. After breakfast, Mirage, Danny, Annesa, Amelia, and Crusher begin to walk back home, getting ready for a pool party.

Once they were in, Danny went to get ready for the snacks with Crusher's help. Amelia and Mirage help to put the table away from the pool so the snacks and drinks won’t get wet. Mirage took a peek at the pool, hummed, and went back to work. ‘Wait…’ Now he fully turned to the pool, which was found empty. There’s no water. “Oh boy… how do you fill the pool?” Mirage walks up to the empty pool and tries to figure out how to fill a pool. He looked around and saw a water hose, which might work. He turns the hose on, but no water can out.

Mirage tries to shake it and look into the hose but only ends up with a drop of water. Unknown to Mirage, Amelia may or may not have stepped the water hose. Once she took her feet away, Mirage was met with a blast of water, rushing onto his face. Mirage is not soaking wet. “Amelia, I swear I will get you back!!!” Amelia makes some nervous chuckles and quickly runs away to help Danny and Crusher. Mirage put the hose into the giant pool and it started filling it up, very slowly…

Mirage let out a groan. “This is gonna take forever to fill it up… maybe I could find something else to fill up the pool?” Mirage went off and tried to find a faster way to fill the pool. Amelia and Annesa come back with some snacks and some drinks. They placed it on the table and went back in to help. Unknown to all of them, a portal opens on top of the table and grabs as much food as possible, before closing. Mirage saw all of that. "Che cosa. IL. Diamine. What did I just see..."

"MIRAGE!!!" Mirage finched and turned back to his house, and saw Danny standing at the doorway. "OH MIO DIO! WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!" Danny yelled/asked, also saw what just happened. Mirage could only sigh. "Our food thief."

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

Annesa, Mirage, Danny, and Crusher were annoyed. The food thief has magic AND steals their food twice a day. This time, it was snacks. "We really need to deal with this food thief. We can't just let them keep stealing our food. The more they steal, the more money we have to spend." Danny sighs in frustration. They might have to cancel the pool party because of the food thief. There was then a doorbell. Annesa stand up and went to open the door, to see everyone ready for the pool party.

"Hey, dear. Are you guys ready for the pool party? You see a bit down." Violin ask. Annesa signed and let them come in. Scottie, Brutus, and Nicole bought some food and drinks for the party. "What's wrong?" Jay asked, noticing the atmosphere was a bit tense. "Food thief happened. Again..." Crusher answered. Everyone groans or sighs. "In the middle of the afternoon?" Accordion ask. Amelia nods. "How?"

"They open a portal right on top of our food and took, like, half of the snack on the table!!" Danny already had enough and wanted to get rid of whoever stole their food. "...We can still have a pool party..." Ulle tried to change the subject and lighten the atmosphere, which was not helping. "You're really thinking about the pool party?! WE HAVE A BIGGER PROBLEM TO TELL WITH!!!" Scottie yelled.

"HEY!! At least I'm trying to lighten up the atmosphere and try to push aside all the problems with have right now! Plus, this is a vocation for us. Shouldn't we be enjoying ourselves?" Ulle... did get a point... Since this is a vocation for everyone in the Toppat Clan. The chief did say they will send them some money if it's not enough. But they do need to find a job...

"OK, we will enjoy ourselves for now and deal with this 'Food Thief' later... Let's go and have some fun!" Cameron then quickly ran to the swimming pool while Brutus followed before all of them heard a big slash. Wait... the pool is already filled? It has been only an hour! Mirage jumped up and went to check if those two couples or ok. Cameron was giggling while Brutus was in the pool, which was half-filled.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR TRYING TO PUSH ME IN!!!" Cameron point and continue to laugh. Mirage sighs and looks into the forest. Maybe he could set up some traps.

After the pool was filled, everyone started to get playing. People slashing water at each other, some of them were talking, while the others were sunbathing, with sunscreen on, of course. Only Mirage, Danny, Annesa, Cameron, and Amelia stay away from the water because... well... What do you expect more from a cat hybrid and a computer mouse? Most of them were in their hybrid form. Jay quickly joined them. "Oh, hi Jay! Have fun?" Jay nervously chuckles. "Well... I'm not a big fan of water..."

"How come? I thought foxes could swim." Mirage asks. "Yes, foxes can swim, but remember I have firepower? So... yeah... That's the reason..." Everyone (Mirage, Danny, Annesa, Cameron, and Amelia) looks at each other and turns back to Jay. Danny makes a small smile. "Jay, you don't need to worry about that." Jay raised one of his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Yeah, we're now in a vocation. There will be no fighting for a whole year. Just enjoy yourself." Danny explains. Jay didn't say anything and smiled. "I will try..." This moment was ruined by Cameron, spraying water at Amelia. Amelia is now wet, very wet... She snaps to Cameron, who's laughing at her. "Just because you're a cat, it didn't mean I won't do anything to you..." Amelia's hand turns into a water gun and aims at Cameron. Cameron notices this and sweat-drops, then begins to run, while Amelia chases, what becomes a cat chasing mouse... or mouse chasing cat?

"Those two will never change... SCOTTIE!!! WE DON'T NEED TO WASH THE BREAD!!!" Danny ran over to Scottie and quickly stopped them from washing bread and other food. Mirage and Annesa sweat-drops at them. Mirage feels a pull on his shirt and looks down at Annesa's note. 'What are you gonna do with the food thief?' Oh yeah... "Um... maybe put some traps around? Oh, Maybe I can prank them! That will teach the some lessons!"

'And what do you need to make traps?' Mirage hums and looks back at the house. Maybe there's some stuff useful in the basement? "Tell Danny I will be right back." Annesa gave him a nod and went to Danny while Mirage went back to the house, searching for anything he could use to set up a trap for the food thief. He went to the basement and opened the light and OH BOY!!! There's so much stuff you can use to set up a trap.

There's even enough wood. "This might be some easy traps..." Mirage grabs some wood, nails, some ropes, and surprisingly, there's a net Whoever lived here before must be a hunter. Mirage grabs all of these and walks back to the pool, starting to build his trap for the food thief. Danny saw this and was about to ask what's he doing, but was stopped by Annesa. 'He's setting up some traps for the food thief.' Danny hums and lets Mirage do his things.

After like two hours, the trap has finally been set up. Now, all he needs to wait. "How's the trap going? Nicole asked. "Well, it's been coming alone. Once the thief steps on those leaves, it will set off a net and launch them into the air until someone helps them to get down." Mirage explains to Nicole. "Oh, good to know. just want to tell you to come and eat or else the others will eat them."

OH SHOOT!" Mirage starts running back to the pool. "LEAVE ME SOME!!! I HAVEN'T EATEN ANYTHING YET!!!"

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

Night time has come and the trap hasn't moved yet. "Why are you still not asleep yet?" Danny walked up to Mirage and asked him. "I was about to sleep. Do you think the traps will work?" Danny hums and looks outside the window. "I think they will. Is pretty dark tonight. Go to sleep, brother. Let's just hope those traps will get those food thieves."

Mirage smiles as Danny exits his room. Mirage got in bed and was ready to sleep.

After, like, 4 hours, it was already in the middle of the night. Mirage got off his bed and went to use the bathroom. He then went to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of water then... he heard something. He quickly turns into his hybrid form and listens carefully. There was someone out there in the yard. His traps WORKED!!!

Mirage quickly put on his shoes and ran to the backyard to check on his trap. There! One of the traps was set off, and there's someone in it! It keeps struggling. "Ah HAH!!! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR STEALING OUR FOOD!!!" The thing inside the net glares at Mirage before continuing to struggle. "Hey, I will let you down if you stop stealing our food."

The thing inside the net didn't seem to hear him. Mirage could only sigh and begin to cut the net. When he almost finished, a portal opened below him, making him and the thief fall through it. The portal the close and now Mirage is in the middle of nowhere. "Great... Just make it more difficult." Mirage turned back to the thief, who was now covered with ropes. It can't move anymore.

Mirage walks closer to get a better look. He can tell it has big wings and other small wings as their ears. "So... you're the one who keeps stealing our food, huh? Guess you just got karma for stealing." It didn't say anything but glare at him.

"Glare at me all you wanted, I'm gonna try to find a way back." Mirage only walks for a few step and look at the thief. This thief is a hybrid. He needs to survive... "*GROANS* I will free you but stop stealing our food!" The thief didn't say anything. Mirage raised his knife. The thief thought he's gonna kill him and closed his eyes, ready for dead. Mirage looks at the thief and walk closer before...

Starts cutting the ropes.

The thief feels the ropes are getting loose and looks at Mirage, who's cutting the rope as fast as he can. Once the rope was completely loose, he moved his wings. Mirage turns to the wing before getting slapped into the tree. Mirage hiss in pain and feels something sharp on his neck then look up.

Oh boy, he's dead. It raised his arm, ready to strike. Mirage closed his eyes, ready for the pain. The thief didn't do anything and decide to spare Mirage, not before leaving some wound on his neck, before fly away.

Mirage watches fly away and feels his neck, checking how big it is. Luckily, it's not too big. Now all he needs is to talk home... without knowing which to go. "You can at let sent me home..."

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

3 hours... It takes three hours to get home... This is what he calls 'Pain'. Once Mirage returned to his room, he lay down after treating his wound. How is he gonna explain this? He was too tired to think so he was fast asleep. After, like, 5 hours of sleep, he wakes up and comes downstairs, to be greeted by Crusher. "Wow... you look awful. You sure you had a good sleep last night? And what happened to your neck?"

"Thief happened. Now leave me alone and let me drink a cup of coffee." Mirage grabs a cup of coffee and lazily sits on the chair. "Brother? Are you ok? You seem very tired." Danny asked, finished making breakfast.

"I only get 6 hours of sleep... You think I'm doing alright?" Mirage asks. Dude, why can't he sleep longer? "How about after eating breakfast, you go to sleep a little longer and tell us what happened to your neck?"

"Bet." Mirage finished the breakfast, put the dish in the sink, and beeline to his bedroom. "I never see someone eat their breakfast so fast. Surprisingly he didn't choke." He heard Amelia tell everyone. To be honest, he didn't care. He just wants to sleep and little longer. And he did.

First Next Per

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Hi! Shadow is here. Thank you for reading this chapter. Sorry for taking this long to post it. Want to play some Minecraft and I do need to continue to draw the next chapter, which will be a two-page comic. I hope you have and nice day and thank you for your patience.

#the henry stickmin collection #thsc oc #thsc #danny felizima #mirage #thsc crusher #thsc accordion #thsc violin #thsc nicole #ulle meadows #jay benson #brutus dan gerbreaker #amelia copperbottom #annesa felizima #scottie #cameron calvin #hybrid au

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rosy-thorneded · 5 months ago

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would love to see some of Untitled document

Okay, @gasmeros, you little poop head. Youuuu asked for it.

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Just wanted to explore mind control that behaves more like a really strong temptation and CAN be resisted if one has the self-control to. It's a Danny Phantom fic. Didn’t even decide on a villian. Here are all the words in that doc

“Sit.” The command came muffled through Danny’s hands, pressed tightly against his ears. His breath hitched in anticipation, expecting his muscles to lock up and move on their own, or a numbness that turned his mind off beyond the desire to obey. But nothing like that happened. He didn’t suddenly lose control of himself or his body. Instead a want trickled into his chest, quickly filling him up. He’d felt want like this before. When he smelled Tucker’s beef jerky after going too long without a meal, when Flash made fun of his parents and he itched to retaliate with his fists, when he stayed up late to study but his bed was right there calling his name. If he hadn’t been aware of the magic involved, he probably wouldn’t be able to tell it wasn’t his own desire. The ground looked exactly where he wanted to be. He knew folding his legs would feel just right. Danny stayed solidly on his feet, breathing out a quietly surprised, “oh.” He drew himself up, letting his hands fall back to his sides, as he smirked at The Villian. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work on me. I’m not a dog, and I’m not going to sit.” The Villian tilted their head. “Does putting negative connotations with the action help you resist?” Danny rolled his eyes and launched at The Villian, who dodged with a lazy side step. “I don’t need help resisting this pathetic excuse for mind control.” Danny followed The Villian with a swing of his fist. He thought once he refused to sit that the command would break, but the desire to sit down on the ground stayed a tantalizing temptation. To deal with it, he promised himself that he would sit down after The Villian was dealt with. He sent another ectoblast at the Villian, watching it slam against a hastily cast shield. The villain hummed again, and fought silently with an impassive expression. It took Danny a while to realize that the Villian was stalling, waiting, tiring Danny out. It was only a moment later Danny noticed that he’d stopped flying around. Danny’s feet were firmly planted on the ground because it seemed to satisfy the hungry want while simultaneously making it worse. Like putting a bite of cake you’re not allowed to have up to your lips. He shot back up into the air with a sharp inhale. His chest ached with the loss. Danny snarled at the knowing look on the Villian’s perfectly calm face. “Just hand over the crystal!!” Danny snapped, throwing another useless ectoblast that collided into another shield. “No, I will not.”

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Torturing Danny again in this one. But this time, he's accidentally stumbled into a Fae. No plans beyond this other than maybe she's interested in his half ghost status, but it messes with her magic so it doesn't quite work on him. Here are all the words in that doc

Danny was, for the lack of a better word, enchanted. The girl sat atop a mossy rock with an absolutely dazzling smile. Her stick straight, babyfine, golden blond hair shimmered in the sunlight, giving her an ethereal glow. She leaned forward and her hair slid off her shoulder like a silky curtain. She tucked it behind her ear with thin, delicate fingers. Danny swallowed, and thought that he might have hit his head harder than he thought and was either hallucinating or seeing an angel. Her smile widened, like they were sharing a delightful joke together. “Aren’t you going to get up?” Danny blinked for the first time since spotting her, realizing he was still laying on his stomach in the mud and in the middle of a very damaged bush. He pushed himself up and stood, wincing. The fall hadn’t been pleasant. His gut and rib cage had taken the brunt of the impact along with his elbows that kept his head from smashing into the ground too hard. “Oh, you poor thing. Come here.” The girl extended her arms like a mother offering to scoop up her crying toddler. She seemed much too small to hold him. She couldn’t be more than half his size, but even still he found himself limping towards her obediently. His gut didn’t appreciate the movement, and sent him to his knees with a sharp twinge before he could get to her. “Aw,” she cooed, and slid off her rock. Danny blinked up at her. She towered, thin, frail, elegant, with a height greater than his dad’s. He looked back at the rock, trying to remember her before she stood, trying to reconcile what he had thought he’d seen with what he was seeing now. But at no point had she changed and he can’t wrap his head around it. “That must hurt so, child.” “I… um,” Danny looked back up at her. “I’ll be alright. I just… need a minute. Sorry.” “Of course.” She beamed again. “I can give you a minute.” “Thanks.” Danny winced with another twinge. He glanced up at the sky through the trees, looking for the ghost that punched him so hard he turned mid battle. That caused him to plummet into the woods below. “Um, what are you doing out here? It might not be all that safe right now.” Danny looked back at the girl, the woman, to find her still smiling, and still staring intently at him. This time he didn’t feel like he was in on the joke. “I can assure you that I am completely safe.” “Um, I don’t know, there’s a-” “What’s your name, child?” Danny paused, a bit thrown off by the interruption. “I’m Danny.” “Daniel?” Danny shook his head, even as a shiver ran through him with the sound of his name in her voice. “Danny. I prefer Danny.”

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is half written backstory for dnd character that I never used. He was the youngest in a wealthy family and an absolute brat. His sister threatens to cut him off from his allowance if he doesn't stop being a waste of space. But instead of like... going to school or working for anything, he decides to make a deal with the first deity he can find, becoming a warlock, not realizing he actually has to do things for said deity.

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Danny Phantom fae AU where he turns half fae instead of half ghost and his parents are fae hunters instead of ghost hunters and yadda yadda. This one's old and I don't remember the plan. Again, sharing the entire doc

Danny trotted outside the house with his bucket of nails, and a pair of loppers. His trott a little more exaggerated, each step a little more forceful than necessary all to keep his light up shoes blinking. He turned on the headlamp and made his way towards the back yard. He'd been sentenced to maintenance duty with the fence, which could only be done at night. His parents constantly told him and his sister that fairies only come out during the day. Danny didn't believe them. At seven years old, he didn't believe in fairies anymore. His big sister said they weren't real. He set the bucket down, and adjusted the loppers in his grip. He opened them up and cut the first vine that had krept it's way across the gravel mound, reaching for their wooden fence. His parents said the vines would grab him and take him away forever if he ever touched them while they were awake, when the sun was up.

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OG stuff. Colton's brother turned into a vampire and killed their parents. idk. Sharing the whole doc again.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I… I just don’t know how to control it.” “Then maybe you should stay away.” Jason took a step back, the heel of his shoe splashing into a shallow puddle. His heartbeat thudded in his ears and he wondered if Colton, his older brother, could hear it too. Colton froze, stopping his approach with a stricken expression. “Jason… you don’t mean that.” Jason was going to be sick. Colton looked just the same as always. Just like the brother that helped him with his math homework, the brother that all Jason’s friends thought was the coolest, the brother that snuck him a cigarette one summer when their parents kicked them out of the house to argue. But the illusion was broken by red eyes that gleamed at him in the dark. They were emotionless pits of a predator and not the warmly fond earthy brown of his brother. He swallowed down the taste of bile, and managed to whisper. “You killed them. Mom and Dad- You-.” Colton stayed still, entirely too still, for a moment, before the troubled anguish on his face doubled. “I didn’t mean to, Jason. You have to know that.” Jason took another step back and halted when Colton matched it like he’d seen it coming. His breath stuttered. “Jason, please.” “You’ll… If you can’t control it, you’ll- I’ll-” The dark alleyway swayed as Jason’s head spun. “No! Jason, no. I would never hurt you! I was just… so… hungry. But I’m not anymore. I promise. I won’t hurt you.” Colton took an experimental step closer. Jason stumbled away, gagging as he saw Colton bent over their mother’s broken form with his teeth tearing at the flesh of her neck. Hungry. His elbow hit the brick wall before his shoulder slammed into it and knocked him over onto a stack of soaked pallets. Arms of marble caught him before he could crack his head open on the pavement.

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I think this was a Tumblr prompt. Civilian saves hero and villian or something like that. idk, dude. Full doc again because fuck u

Thomas wasn't trying to be a hero. He really wasn't. It had just been common sense that kept him from running. If he didn't shut down the furnaces properly, they would overheat, and if they overheated with the hero and the villian prancing around and breaking things like they were, there was a very high chance of a fire. A fire left to spread in this particular factory would most definetly level the city. Thomas had tried to run. He wasn't the kind of person to stick around to watch heroes and villians fight. The first thundering quake of the ground and the shattering of glass had him sprinting faster than he'd ever in his entire life. But that had only lasted a few moments before a blast shoved him off his feet, slamming him to the ground. He covered his head, curling up small. Another shockwave upheaved the cement under him. The world spun in a confusion flury of

there. hope you had fun skimming. (jk love u)

#ask game

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scarletsaphire · 1 year ago

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I'VE GOT A BUNCH OF WRITING ASKS FOR YOU LETS GO

7, 22, 32, 36, 39, 40, 55, 56, 63, 64, 65

7. How do you choose which POV to write in?

Uhhhh that’s a great question honestly. Most of the time when I have an idea it comes with the POV built in; for multi chapter fics/things from multiple POV’s it boils down to “Who is close enough to the plot to make sense, emotionally charged, and not going to reveal everything immediately/throw everything out of wack.”

Putting the rest under a read more because it’ll be long.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do?

I don’t like mind control, its an ick for me, so unless it’s 1000% necessary for the story I want to tell I won’t write it. I also tend to avoid first person, whether reading or writing. If its original fiction I’m more likely to be malleable with that, but for fanfiction, first person POV is an immediate turn off for me.

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

I’m going to make the decision not to include people from the pham, because otherwise it’ll just be people from the pham so >:p.

(Also to the author’s I’m tagging, sorry about the notification!)

@jackdaw-sprite is currently my favorite fanfic author. Their stuff is just creatively incredible, their writing style and prose is so, so, so well done. I can think of at least 5 of their fics by name that I am thinking about almost constantly. It’s all so absolutely incredible and I cannot recommend it enough.

@clockways has a lot of really good fics they are currently working on and every single one of them is absolutely incredible. The plots are well thought out and well executed, the characters all feel unique to their own stories while not feeling OOC, and they also do really good art.

@five-rivers is also on the list, which I’m sure surprises absolutely nobody. Obviously you have the Mortifiedverse which, as you know Hannah, I’m constantly freaking out over. It’s so so so well done, but also they have such a ridiculous quantity of other stuff and all of it is Top Tier.

36. How do you write kiss scenes?

Really quickly one after another in a weekend. Obviously.

The actual answer depends on the kiss scene itself. In general, I think my approach to kiss scenes is actually close to my approach to fight scenes? Unless there is something specific about the kiss that needs to be described, focus on the emotions its causing in the character instead. Even if you’ve never kissed someone you know what it’s going to look like, so spending time describing the physical appearance of the kiss is more often than not a waste of time. The emotions driving the kiss, or being caused by it, are much more important and interesting

39. Share a snippet from a WIP.

(From the gray ghost coffee shop story ;) (also tagging kad so she can get some gray ghost soup. @kadziduo

Laying in the rafters was Phantom. His ghostly tail was wrapped under the beam and back into his lap, so that the wispy end of it wrapped around one of his hands. The other hand dangled over the side, hovering in the air a good foot over the tallest patron. His head was leaned back against the post, and tilted to the side so that Valerie could clearly see his face, could clearly see that he was deep in sleep.

“He crashed here one night,” Mama Rose said from behind her. Valerie didn’t take her eyes of Phantom. There was something wrong about the whole situation, and she knew it had something to do with that ghost. You can never trust a ghost. “Literally, from the broken window. Found him asleep, just like that, so I made him a chocolate shake. He helped me clean up the mess, and he came back the next day.”

“I can chase the freeloader off for you,” Valerie said, her blaster whirring to life at her wrist.

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

That’s a tough one. Daytime Stargazing, as much as that fic fought me, has a scene at the end with Sam capturing a picture pf Danny in the middle of an eclipse, phantom (ha) stars visible only around him, creating an aura. That one would be really cool to see.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has the choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers reactions to certain ones?

Its going to come as a surprise to absolutely nobody yet again that it’s Danny. He’s. So easy to put in situations man how could I not love him. Valerie’s a close second, but Danny is just so versatile. Something cute and silly? Danny. Crack dissection fic? Danny. Slightly angsty magic adventure? Danny. It’s like one size fits all and that size is a half dead child.

56. What’s something about your written that you pride yourself on?

I’m very proud of a lot of parts of my writing tbh and I’ve never heard of humility in my life so you’re getting multiple B)

I have a knack for coming up with and fleshing out ideas. I write incredibly quickly and do it well on the first try, which means I don’t have to spend a lot of time editing if I don’t feel like it. (Will editing make it better? Yes. But I don’t feel like it.) I also am good at emotionally charged lines me thinks.

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

I’ve spent a good long while thinking and frankly its the same things I hate in most writing: Poor characterization and bad spelling/grammar. Most smut specific things I can sit through if the rest of it is good, but I can’t deal with those unless Specific Circumstances are met.

64. Something you love to see in smut

Possessiveness. It’s fun in fiction.

65. Tell us about what you’re looking forward to writing in your current project, or a future project.

The ice skating scene. You remember the ice skating scene I told you about don’t you? I want to write it but I have SO MUCH ELSE TO WRITE BEFORE HAND. >:(

#ask game #fanfiction #sorry again about the tags! (not to kad. take the gray ghost.)

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mossy-covered-bones · 2 years ago

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Hi, @eldest-of-katts ! I got you for the dp holiday truce--I decided to write something for the ghost hunger au prompt. I hope you like it ^ ^

ao3 link

Sample VIals

He couldn’t have described the taste if asked—it was like liquid energy on his tongue, tangy and invigorating and downright heavenly. One taste and all the worry, the fatigue, the hunger of the past few weeks just washed away.

Danny wiped away the ectoplasm smeared around his mouth, licking the residue off his gloved fingers. He glanced to the mouth of the alley, out at the empty street.

It was quiet, and still, and the streetlights didn’t reach far enough to touch him.

He could remember going out for… some reason that had long since been buried in a blurry mess of tired and hungry and barely aware. Idly, he ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to stir up the memory.

The taste of ectoplasm danced across his tongue again before dissolving, and Danny paused.

The ground in front of him was splattered with green—it practically coated the front of his jumpsuit, was still clinging to parts of his gloves. He could feel it in his mouth, on his gums and sticking to his canines.

It wasn’t his—he was almost certain he’d’ve remembered a fight—so he must’ve…

He pushed himself to his feet, using the wall to steady himself. He tried not to look at the ectoplasm splattered across the alley, tried to ignore the urge to scrape every last drop off the pavement.

Danny could vaguely recall his ghost sense going off, slipping out of Fentonworks to try and track down whichever ghost it had been, but everything after that was blank. He hoped it had been a smaller ghost, an animal of some sort, and not…

He felt like he was going to be sick.

Danny hated how much better he felt afterwards. Time stopped blurring together, his thoughts made sense again. No more dozing off in class despite having slept eleven hours the night before, no more feeling hungry in a way food couldn’t satisfy.

It kind of scared him.

He couldn’t help but dwell on it through class, think of green-splattered pavement when he should be paying attention. How could he not, when he could have torn apart a person?

It didn’t take long after class started for his ghost sense to go off, practically shoving Danny out of his seat. He shot Sam and Tucker a look and raised his hand, about to ask to be excused, before he paused.

The last time he’d slipped out after a ghost, he’d blacked out and ended up in that alley. Could he really trust himself this time?

But it wasn’t the middle of the night, and he wasn’t out of his mind from hunger and fatigue. Surely he could control himself.

Surely.

Danny put his hand up, and asked to go to the bathroom. Mr. Lancer dismissed him without much protest, and he grabbed his backpack and left before either of them could change their minds.

He slipped into the bathroom nearest Mr. Lancer’s room, checking to make sure the stalls were empty before transforming. He grabbed the thermos, then shoved the rest of his things through the tiles of the suspended ceiling.

Danny was practically drooling at this point. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, with a ghost hunt dangled in front of him instead of the ringing of bells.

Pulling invisibility over him like a blanket, Danny stepped through the wall, letting instinct tug him in the right direction.

It wasn’t too hard to convince Sam and Tucker that he was better, that they could hang out and chase ghosts and he’d be fine. It wasn’t a lie, either—Danny still felt fine, even days after… eating. And maybe he threw himself back into normalcy a little too fast, if he was starting to get dizzy sometimes, but he was fine!

Well enough that he could catch up on the chores his parents had been bothering him about, even if he didn’t feel like doing them.

He threw on a jacket—stars knew why his parents bothered using the fridge for samples when the basement was already so cold—and headed downstairs to clean up the lab.

His parents had left everything a mess with their most recent work, so he resolved himself to a late night to finish his homework, yawned, and got started.

Gathering used glassware to be washed, wiping up spilled samples, putting away the blueprints shoved to the sides of the worktables.

Danny set the to-wash box by the stairs and turned to get back to work.

His eyes caught on the portal, and he froze. Staring at the swirling vortex of ectoplasm, the phantom taste of it dancing across his tongue.

Danny looked away, wiping his hand on his hoodie where he’d been chewing on his nails. He was fine, he wasn’t going to do anything like that again. He didn’t need to—it had been a week, and he was doing just fantastic. Perfectly fine.

He grabbed the mop, stubbornly avoiding looking anywhere near the portal, and got back to his chores.

Another week came and went, and Danny didn’t miss the worried looks Jazz kept sending him. Sure, he was a little irritable. Sure, he was starting to get bags under his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about it, because there was nothing to talk about. He was fine.

He dropped his backpack on the couch and went to look for something to eat. He’d barely eaten anything at lunch—thanks a lot, Box Ghost—so he was absolutely starving.

Danny opened the fridge, nudging some of his parents’ samples aside to look at what they had. It was pretty underwhelming, to be honest.

His eyes trailed back to the ectoplasm samples, idly chewing on his lip. He was hungry, but not hungry enough for that.

Danny let the fridge door swing shut. There was probably something in the cupboards he could eat.

The Chinese takeout they had for dinner was good, but Danny couldn’t help but think of the vials left in the fridge. Stomach twisting in hunger, barely managing to keep from biting off his nails as his resolve crumbled.

He waited until everyone else had gone to bed before creeping back downstairs to stare at the samples.

Surely it would be fine, since he wasn’t hurting anyone to get it? It would help him, would chase away the clawing in his stomach and the dryness in his mouth. It’s not like his parents would notice; they siphoned most of their samples off of the portal, and that gave off enough latent ectoplasm that they couldn’t really collect it all. Plus, his dad was no stranger to accidental spills, so they would probably chalk up any missing stores to his clumsiness.

Slowly, like someone would run into the kitchen demanding to know what he was doing, Danny pulled out one of the vials. He twisted off the cap, looking down at the glowing green liquid.

He swirled it around in the vial, licking his lips. He wanted so badly to chug the whole thing, but only took a sip, choking at the taste.

If the ectoplasm from last time had tasted anything like oranges, then this would’ve been the equivalent of straight lemon juice. Harsh and bitter, and more like drinking static than the tangy liquid energy he remembered from last time.

He set the vial down a little too fast, glassware clanking against the counter, and held a hand over his mouth. Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea. He felt a little better, the edge of his craving dulled, but he wanted more. Wanted the sweeter, smoother ectoplasm he’d had before.

But that wasn’t an option, Danny had to remind himself. He couldn’t bring himself to kill another ghost, so it was what his parents had or starving.

It was like taking medicine. Bitter and awful, but the sooner he got it done the sooner he could wash away the taste with something else.

Danny knocked back the rest of the vial, trying not to gag at the taste.

It was better than starving.

#danny phantom #2022 holiday truce #its not too gore heavy but i did try and lean into the moral qualms a fair bit #sev writes

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sparkletastic-cookiedough · 1 month ago

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It had been three weeks since Danny disappeared on that jet, and Bruce was no closer to finding out where the kid had gone.

He had completely disappeared, with no trace whatsoever.

Bruce knew he wasn’t doing well emotionally. He just kept worrying about Danny. Danny who was young, and far too thin, and never truly relaxed at his side.

When Bruce was awake at night, his mind would wander to if he could’ve done something different. Maybe he should’ve watched Danny more closely. Maybe if he bothered Danny earlier, or put a security camera in the bathroom, or asked Danny what he was nervous about…

The Leauge wasn’t any help either. Clark couldn’t find Danny anywhere. He put ads in the metropolis paper about a missing kid, but nothing had come of it so far. Martian Manhunter couldn’t search for Danny himself, since he didn’t know the kid, but rarely even found people thinking about Danny Fenton- the times he did were all found to be a coincidence (there were five people in the United States with that name). Captain Marvel was on a mission, and was completely unreachable. The others in the Justice League kept a look out, but didn’t have any positive reports yet.

The Justice League Dark was aware of the issue, but were dealing with their own situation. Essentially, they were trying to act as the middle men between multiple cults, a government agency, and the king of Ghosts. It was a mess, but Batman was assured that his involvement would only “bugger up the whole process”, as Constantine put it.

Batman’s investigations were proving more fruitless than usual. Any mentions of Danny Fenton or his parents were wiped from the internet by a government agency. Batman attempted to recover the files, but the recovered data was corrupted to the point it was nearly unreadable.

The information he could get didn’t make any sense. He found records from a school psychologist, but the psychologist in question didn’t seem to actually exist. Not even the High School seemed to exist. The address was just an empty field in the Midwest.

Batman could even remember something else, some other name that was mentioned, but he couldn’t recall it. Not even the Martian Manhunter could make him remember the name of Danny’s supposed guardian.

Batman could swear he wrote it down, but it was completely empty. The information was simply stripped from everywhere, even the Batcomputer.

Which concerned him quite a bit. Something powerful was at play here, but it didn’t seem to want anything but for certain people to be completely forgotten.

The worst part was, it was working. Manhunter had to ask Batman what the name he was supposed to look for was.

Danny was short for something, wasn’t it? Batman didn’t know what anymore.

Batman just hoped he could figure this out before he forgot about Danny completely.

Prompt: Against Danny's wishes, Bruce attempts to gain custody of him. Danny responds by fleeing.

Found in the @haunting-heroes-creative-games discord server. Rabbit, I don't know your tumblr, but this one goes out to you.

EDIT: @rabpitpie HAS REVEALED THEMSELVES

===

"I am not homeless." Danny petulantly mutters. He's a runaway. There is a difference, even if Danny is smart enough not to voice that out loud.

Bruce Wayne, for some god forsaken reason, does not listen.

"Okay, I understand, but your parents—"

"Do not talk about my parents." Danny grits his teeth, struggles to keep his fangs in check.

Bruce puts his hands up in surrender, placating. "Amity Park authorities say that Vlad is your new guardian, because he was named your godfather."

Danny just about stops himself from growling. "Vlad is full of shit."

Bruce ignores him. "But the documents were shoddy at best, and as Jack's—your father's cousin and a registered foster parent, your teacher thought it was pertinent that I was at least informed."

At that, Danny stills. Mr. Lancer? He would be the only one…

"And I want to help you, Daniel."

"Danny." Danny unthinkingly corrects, before he scowls. He was too distracted by thoughts of Lancer to keep himself in check.

"Danny," Bruce smiles, "Will you come to Wayne Manor? The other kids would be happy to have you around. The more the merrier I say!"

Danny eyes the hand offered to him. One one hand, anyone is better than Vlad. On the other hand, billionaire to billionaire isn't exactly and upgrade. Plus, Sam has always said that there was something off about the Waynes.

The rich always had a facade, but Sam was never sure why they would hide the preferable (in her opinion) part. Being seen as a smart businessman would be good for Wayne Enterprises. It's fishy that he would act so dopey, it reeks of tricking people into letting their guards down.

As far as Tuck knew, it wasn't like they were making shadey deals, so why the subterfuge?

Speaking of his friends. His chest vibrates. It's unnoticeable to the outside, but to Danny it buzzes through him. His "chest of holding" as Tucker calls it, has the burner phone Sam had gotten him ages ago, when they couldn't deny it anymore and had to make plans for Danny to flee the city.

Getting CPS called on him was not in the plan.

But then again, it's better than Vlad or the GIW.

Danny forces himself to relax, minutely and slowly, it would be suspicious if he were suddenly amiable, and takes a deep breath. He feigns having to war with himself, to weigh his pride and safety.

He reaches over begrudgingly, to Bruce's soft smile and firm handshake.

He just needs a moment. A single, solitary moment. He lets himself be led out of the room, stiff as Bruce gently guides him with a hand on his back.

The man smells of leather and machine oil. Through Danny's senses, he gets ghosts of bats in a well, in a cave, of comradery in space, of kevlar and—

Flashes of Val, smiling bright enough to match her ever present yellow tanktop, growling through the blackened visor of a red suit, sitting next to him in borrowed clothes and showing him her hoverboard as a sign of truce.

Billionaires, Danny thinks, smell of cologne and money.

They do not, Danny thinks, have polite ghosts waiting for them in the hallway, following them like silent bodyguards, tugging on their expensive shirt sleeves and smiling as if they have saved them, even in death.

Bruce Wayne, Danny thinks, is not all that he claims to be.

But it's not Danny's business if Batman wants to take Danny into his home.

What Batman wants, what Bruce Wayne wants, is irrelevant.

Danny gets in the car and watches through his periphery as a white car silently follows them to the airport.

The seatbelt sign dims with a soft ding as the plane cruises at altitude. Danny wordlessly gets up to use the bathroom, pointing towards it when Bruce hums a questioning tune.

Danny disappears the second he gets the bathroom door closed.

#dcxdp #danny is being erased from people’s minds #and also from physical records #and digital records

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 2 years ago

Note

This is in response to the "Jason pretending to be/gaslighting himself into actual pregnancy" thread.

What exactly is Alfred’s and Bruce’s reaction to the…news? Like, how did they get told? Did the batkids (-Todd) sit them down, bring the board out, and try to quickly explain the ‘hey your son/grandson may be pregnant, yes it’s possible, halfa biology is a fun thing isn’t it?’ and all that jazz?

Or did Jason announce it randomly in the middle of chaotic family dinner and acted like he didn’t say anything odd, or did he bring it up offhandedly before waking away and ignoring any calls for him to return

Lmao maybe in a different world Jason chooses to announce it during a gala, Peeta ‘if it weren’t for the baby’ Mellark style, and then just let hell ascend.

Or did Danny break it by just simply asking Jason how the baby was

The first time the other boys breakdown.

It’s decided that Jason would tell Alfred at his own time and so they focus on Bruce.

They sit Bruce down in the cave and lay out their evidence the best they can.

And when the others come in later to suit up Bruce tries to bench Jason and that does not go down well.

A full screaming match that hasn’t happen since Jason’s switch, that ends with Bruce just shouting,

“I don’t care what happens out there right now, I can’t allow a pregnant person to put themselves in danger!”

And Jason just freezes in place, the cave is dead silent. Half of the clan is just looking on in confusion. The other boys are refusing to look in their general direction. Stephanie folds herself in half with a laugh and Alfred just raises an eyebrow.

Jason’s has to catch himself on the table to stop himself from falling over from the stitch in his side.

~~~~~~~~~

The second time is after the Desiree incident he goes to talk to with Alfred alone.

The what ifs were keeping him up, he needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t judge him.

They sat together under the island lights with tea and Alfred gave him a gentle hug .

Jason admitted that he didn’t know why he was crying anyways. It was his choice, he knew it was for the best.

Maybe it was just how bad he’s been feeling for the last week.

Alfred doesn’t judge and reassured Jason that he was allowed to feel such ways.

~~~~~~~

The third time it was real casual, so casual in fact that they others just through he was joking.

When the others realized he had completely kicked the last of his smoking habit and just said “for my baby” they thought he had quit during the prank.

When he declined a drink with Bruce and Dick he just said “baby” and they assumed he didn’t feel like it and was joking.

When Jason said he wasn’t going to patrol for awhile they assumed he was taking a well deserved vacation.

It wasn’t until he was a good four months along did they take a hint.

Dick, poking Jason side jokingly: Man little wing, not so little now. I know you’re on vacation and all that but you’re starting to let yourself go.

Jason not looking up from his writing: Gee Dickhead, thanks. Not like I’ve been growing your first nibling or anything.

Dick:…. What?

Jason: you know? My baby? Little thing making a mess of my guts rn?

*The others tuning in at the breakfast table*

Jason: guys, seriously. Did none of you take me seriously?

Damian: it was hard to after the last time

Jason: why’d you think I’ve sat out all the breakouts the last two months???

Tim: I just thought you were being a dick man.

Jason: Thanks. Old man, you good? You have been staring ahead for quite some time.

Bruce, mildly choked up: hmmm

Jason: ok good anyways what do you think about the name ‘Martha Jane Todd Wayne’ for a girl? I thought Jane Martha first but I think Martha Jane sits better on the tongue.

Bruce with an even more choked up expression: hmmm

#dp x dc #writing prompt #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #dc x dp #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #mother hood au #mpreg

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hearts-hunger · 3 years ago

Text

wild and blue — part one

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Series Playlist ♫

Series Summary: In the middle of a sudden heartbreak, getting away for a weekend of camping with your best friend seems like both the best and the worst thing you could possibly do.

Chapter Summary: At the boys' last show before your trip, your boyfriend doesn't make a good impression on his future camping partners.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader [+ Sam x Birdie] | Genre: friends to lovers, angst, mutual pining | Word Count: 4.8k | Chapter Warnings: one (1) toxic jerk of a boyfriend

A/N: Yes, I started Danny's cabin fic before I finished Sam's or Jake's. I'm awful at being consistent in any way, rip. This is just the set up for the cosy camping vibe this fic is going to have, so don't fret if it doesn't seem very "cabin-y" right now. I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think! ♡

“You look perfect, Danny. Quit fussing.”

You batted your best friend’s hand away from his artfully mussed head of curls, not wanting him to mess them up in his characteristic pre-show nervousness. Danny gave you an unimpressed look in the mirror, a little put out at your scolding, but you both knew you were right.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said, and the longer you held his gaze in the mirror, the harder it was to keep a firm tone. A smile spread over his face until the corners of his eyes were crinkled with it, and you couldn’t help but grin back.

“I’ll look at you however I want,” he said, straightening to brush his hand over the sparkly mesh top he wore. “I’m the rock ‘n roll god here, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, but it was affectionate. “Sure. Remind me again what kind of rock ‘n roll god still shakes like a chihuahua before every show.”

He sighed and turned to sit on the edge of the makeup table. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“Hey,” you said gently. You moved closer and touched a few fingers to his cheek, careful not to muss his makeup. “It’s not stupid. I was just teasing, but I shouldn’t have. It’s ok to feel nervous.”

He gave you a wry smile. “Even though I’ve played a million shows and I should be used to this kind of thing?”

“Oh, you should be used to thousands of adoring fans screaming your name?” you teased. “How very big-headed of you, Daniel.”

He chuckled. “You know what I mean.” He tugged on one of the curls you’d purposefully left out of your space buns. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled. “You’re welcome,” you said. “Thank you for inviting me.”

You knew you had an open invitation to any of the boys’ shows — all you had to do was ask, and they’d roll out the red carpet and fly you in, get you a room in the hotel they were staying at, and make sure you were backstage or in the pit or wherever else you wanted to be for the show. You’d been kind of embarrassed the first couple of times they did all that for you, trying to explain you were only letting them know you’d be at the show, not that you’d been expecting or even asking for the VIP treatment. But you’d since realized that it was their way of showing you love while their lives were so hectic on tour, and you didn’t protest the royal treatment any more.

You hadn’t needed all that for this show, though, because it was only half an hour away from where you all lived in Tennessee. You’d only asked to be able to bring your boyfriend, and the boys had been kind enough to include him even though you knew good and well that none of the boys were particularly keen on him. You’d been dating Ben for about a year now, and while his bad-boy charm had attracted you to him like a moth to the flame, Danny and the Kiszkas weren’t overly impressed. You had to admit that Ben wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something about him you just couldn’t give up.

He was waiting for you backstage, likely sulking at your absence instead of trying to make friends with the boys you’d known and loved since middle school. You’d stayed with Danny when he hung back in the dressing room, knowing your best friend needed a few more minutes to get a hold of his nerves and wanting to be there to help.

“You’re gonna do great, Danny,” you said, giving him an encouraging smile. You kissed his cheek, and you hid your smile when you saw a telltale blush under the glitter on his face.

“Just pretend you’re playing for me,” you said, a little sassy, and you were pleased when he smiled.

“Who says I don’t already?” he said cooly, and he smiled when you laughed.

He tapped your nose as he stood. “Come on, sunshine. Let’s go play some rock ‘n roll.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a comforting warmth in your chest like you did every time he called you that. It had been his nickname for you since you were kids, and while Sam, Jake, and Josh had taken to using it too, it always sounded different in Danny’s voice.

You followed him out to the backstage area, finding the brothers and a couple of roadies talking in a lopsided circle while last-minute checks were conducted on instruments, outfits, and mic sets. Sam’s girlfriend, affectionately dubbed “birdie” since your childhood, had her arms wrapped around his lanky frame and was looking up at him with an adoring gaze. They’d only started dating in the summer, and the glow of the honeymoon phase looked good on them.

Just as you’d expected, your boyfriend was standing off to the side looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. You reluctantly walked to him instead of the circle of your friends, holding your hands out to him.

“Ben, honey,” you said, uncrossing his arms and taking his hands when he didn’t offer them to you. You’d learned not to let stuff like that bother you, else you’d be tied up in knots all the time.

He scowled. “Where were you? I’ve been standing out here forever.”

You threaded your fingers with his. “I was helping Danny. You could have gone and talked to the guys.” You gave him a teasing smile. “They won’t bite, honey. They’d actually like to get to know you. Maybe you could be friends.”

He didn’t return your smile. “I don’t need any more friends.” He moved your hands behind your back, untangling his fingers from yours to hold your wrists together with one hand. You felt an odd thrill, the same kind you did when you slept with him — equal parts nervousness, excitement, and an unwavering knowledge that you should do what he told you if you wanted his attention.

“You don’t really need any more either, do you?” he asked, and finally, you saw him smile. It was a little hard around the edges, but it was a smile, and you’d been the one to draw it out.

You shivered when he grazed his knuckle down the side of your breast, feeling his warmth through the flimsy lace top he’d picked out for you. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, heat racing to your face at the thought of the boys seeing Ben touch you so intimately.

“Ah-ah, baby doll,” Ben chided, touching your jaw to get you to turn back to him. “Eyes on me. Wouldn’t want me thinking you’re looking for someone else, would we?”

You flushed. “I’m not looking for someone else,” you said sincerely. “I just... maybe we shouldn’t be so...”

His expression hardened. “So what? So obvious?” He took your chin in an unforgiving grip. “Don’t you want everybody to know you’re mine?”

“Of course I do,” you said, knowing better than to try and fight his grip. He’d only make it tighter, and it hurt a little already. “But everybody here already knows that, Ben.”

“They do?” he said. “Well. Maybe I should have a chat with Wagner, then.”

You paled. “Why?” Ben had always held a particular dislike for Danny, though you’d never understood why. Danny had been nothing but friendly to Ben from the day you’d introduced them.

Ben brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, smudging your lipstick. “He must be pretty stupid to try and make a move on a girl who’s already taken.”

Your eyes widened. “He didn’t,” you said quickly.

“What were you doing back there alone?” he demanded.

“We were just talking,” you assured him. “Nothing happened, Ben, I promise.”

“You swear?”

You nodded. “Yes, I swear.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, with his hand on your neck, he gave you a bruising kiss.

“You better not be lying to me, baby doll,” he said in a low voice. He kissed you again, and it sent a dangerous, electric thrill running through you.

“I’m not,” you breathed. You thought of how to get back on his good side. “When we get home... why don’t I do something special to show you how much I love you?”

He gave you a wicked grin. “Why wait? Let’s go right now.”

You frowned. “I don’t want to miss the show.” You kissed him before he could protest. “I promise I’ll make it worth it, Ben. Please.”

He gave a displeased huff. “No, you know what? If you care about them more than you care about me, I guess I should just go.”

You held on to him as he tried to pull away from you. “Ben, please don’t go. I want you to stay, please.”

“I want you to leave with me,” he said. “Why don’t I get what I want? Why is it always you who gets what they want?”

“I...” You didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t been trying to make this into a competition.

“I thought it would be nice to do this together,” you said. “They’re my friends, and you might like their music if you give it a try.”

He broke away from you, and you knew any chance of getting back into his good graces ws gone for the night.

“No, I’ll just go,” he said after a moment, but it wasn’t as harsh as you thought it would be. “You have a good time with your friends, doll.”

You were a little uneasy, trying to read his mood. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said, and it was almost sincere. He closed the distance between you and gave you a too-innocent smile.

“And since I’m being so generous, I know you’ll be just as eager to please when you get back home.”

You wilted. You should have guessed you wouldn’t be getting off scot free.

“You will, won’t you?” he asked, nipping at your bottom lip. “My sweet baby doll. You’ll be good for me because I love you so much, won’t you? You know I love you more than anything.”

You softened a little. “I know you do.”

He kissed you, quick and hard. “Good.”

He left, and you felt guilty at the twinge of relief that accompanied his departure. You watched him go, and as much as you wanted to stay for the show, part of you felt like you ought to chase after Ben and make him happy with you again.

“Sunshine.”

You jumped a little at his voice, and you felt him put a steadying hand on your back.

“Just me,” Danny said. He came around to face you. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. You looked beyond Danny to make sure Ben was gone, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged. “You look a little tense.” He licked his thumb and wiped at your smudged lipstick, and you blushed vividly.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling away and attempting to repair yourself. Hopefully the lipstick wouldn’t be so visible once you were in your seat. “Ben’s just... tired. He decided to go home.”

“Ah.” Danny let his hand drop. “Well, you’ll still have birdie. But you can stay backstage if you’d rather.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll stick with her.” You wanted to be close to your friend and enjoy the show with her, not spend the whole night being upset about Ben.

Danny gave you a sweet smile. “Good. I know she’s been missing you. We all have.”

You knew without him having to spell it out that he wasn’t just referring to how little you’d seen them during the tour. Since you’d started dating Ben, you’d spent less and less time with birdie and the guys, and you missed them too.

You collected yourself and gave Danny a smile. “Well, we’ll have plenty of time this weekend to catch up.”

He grinned. “I know. I’m really excited for it.”

Sam and birdie had planned a camping trip a while ago for the first weekend of the boys’ break, and they’d invited everyone else to come along, including Ben. The twins had politely declined in favor of spending a long weekend at the beach, but Danny was going and you’d somehow miraculously convinced Ben to go with you. It worked out wonderfully that this last show before the break was close to home, and you were all supposed to meet at the campsite tomorrow evening.

Danny took your hand, chaste and comforting.

“You and birdie should get your spots,” he said, leading you towards the group of your friends. He nodded to the stage where the opening band was playing. “They have one more song after this, so you still have time to get Jake to make you a drink.”

“Or two,” you said.

He laughed. “Yeah, or two.”

Jake was happy to make you and birdie drinks strong enough to get you plastered before they even went on stage, and after wishing the boys good luck, you wove your way through the venue to get your seats in the first row. You sat back to enjoy your drink and your sweet friend’s company while the opener finished their set, relaxing into your buzz and the energy from the crowd.

When the boys came on stage, you cheered as loud as the rest of the fans and waved like they could see you. Sam blew a kiss, and though a wave of swooning cheers was given in response, you nudged your shoulder against birdie’s. She grinned back, knowing the kiss was for her but pleased to share it with the rest of the fans.

You forgot all about your argument with Ben as the boys played, letting yourself get lost in the familiar, incredible feeling of their shows. You sang along with every song and laughed at Josh’s stream-of-consciousness ramblings, knowing you’d tease him about them later. You sat in awe like you always did when Jake, Sam, and Danny soloed, blown away at the talent you’d never be able to wrap your mind around no matter how many times you heard them play. When Josh sang the final notes of “Black Smoke Rising,” you made yourself hoarse with cheering, proud beyond words and alive with joy and energy.

You stayed in your seat after everyone else had left, drinking in the post-show ambiance as the roadies started to break down the set. Birdie had gone backstage right after the show to see Sam, but you were content to be alone; you watched as groups of friends took final pictures together, some crying and laughing, some with love tokens like picks and flowers and necklaces generously given from the boys during the show. You loved to watch how much people loved Greta Van Fleet, enjoying how all the love the boys poured out was given back tenfold by the fans to the boys and to each other.

Danny stepped out on stage after a while, careful of the roadies diligently working around him, and you knew he was looking for you. You waved, feeling a tight squeeze in your chest at the sight of him looking for you. He grinned and waved back.

“Come here,” he called across the pit, his voice carrying in the near-empty venue.

“I can’t,” you called back. “I’m too tired.”

He laughed, and he gave you an affectionate shake of his head. “Alright then, trouble. Stay put. I’ll come get you.”

He jumped down from the stage and made his way to you, pausing on his walk to pick up some of the empty cups and little bottles of alcohol that littered the floor. He tossed them in a nearby trash can, much to the surprise of the teenager with a broom instructed to sweep up the pit; the kid gave him an almost bewildered “thank you” and Danny smiled in response.

He climbed up on the railing above the wall of the pit, holding on with one hand and leaning back precariously as he surveyed you.

“You’re just exhausted, huh?” he asked. “All that cheering and worshiping really took it out of you?”

You laughed. “Is that what I’m doing now?” you asked. “Worshiping?”

He grinned. “Weren’t you?” He swung himself over the railing and leaned back against it, nudging his shoe against yours.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked.

You smiled. “Of course I did. You were great, just like I said you’d be.”

“Oh, right. I forgot you know everything.”

You huffed a laugh, and he cracked a smile for you. He offered you his hand.

“Come on,” he said. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

His mom had always said that when it was time for you and the Kiszkas and birdie to go home from hours of hanging out at the Wagner’s house, and you smiled at the memory now.

He groaned a little when you let him help you up, his muscles sore from their workout on the drums, but he steadied you like it was second nature when you realized just how strong Jake’s drink had been.

“Easy, sunny,” he said with a chuckle. “You alright?”

You hummed. “Jake’s an alcoholic.”

He laughed. “I coulda told you that.” He swept his hair back from his face, his curls damp with sweat and his makeup smudged. “In fact, he’s the one that suggested we go out. You coming?”

You sighed. “I shouldn’t,” you said, reality coming back as you came down from your post-show high. “Ben’s waiting for me.”

He raised a brow. “He left in your car, though. How are you supposed to get home?”

“He sent me money for an Uber.”

Danny rolled his eyes, and for the first time in a while, your best friend couldn’t hide his dislike for your boyfriend.

“What?” you said defensively, a little hurt and embarrassed. You wanted more than anything for Danny to like Ben, but you also wanted Ben to be someone worth liking, and you didn’t seem to be faring well on either front.

“He sent you money for an Uber?” Danny repeated. “Come on, sunshine. His apartment’s, like, twenty minutes away. He can’t come get you?”

“I don’t want to make him drive if he doesn’t have to,” you said.

“It’s not safe,” Danny insisted.

“Oh, relax,” you said irritably, disliking the thought that Danny was looking out for you better than your own boyfriend was. “I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s not like I’m jumping in the back of an unmarked van and asking for a ride home.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “And you’re not getting an Uber, either.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What should I do, then, Danny? Walk home?”

He gave a dry laugh. “Yeah. I’m gonna make you walk home, sunshine.”

He went over the railing again and jumped down to the pit. For an awful moment, you thought he was leaving you, and you leaned over the railing to call him back.

“What?” he asked, looking up at you. He was waiting patiently at the bottom, not leaving you all alone.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I thought you were leaving.”

His expression softened. “No, sunshine. I’m right here.” He extended his hand to you. “Come on.”

“I’ll meet you down there,” you said, intending to find the stairs down to the pit. You looked left and right; the stairs were way off on the edges of the bleachers.

“Nah, it’s quicker to come this way,” he said. “Just come over the railing.”

“No way,” you said. “I’ll fall to my death.”

He gave you a grudging smile. “When have I ever let you fall to your death, huh? That’s right. Never. So come on.”

You cautiously, hesitantly did as he said, easing yourself over the railing until you were standing on the other side. You looked down; the floor seemed a lot farther away than it had a few seconds ago.

“Just drop,” Danny said. “It’s not as far as it looks.”

“Yes, it is,” you said, clinging to the railing. “Besides, I’m drunk. I’ll break my ankle trying to do that.”

You heard him sigh and walk over to you; a moment later, you felt his hands on your waist.

“Let go,” he said.

“Let go?” you repeated.

“Yes, sunny.” His voice was tired but patient. “Let go of the railing.”

You did, and he took you by the waist and set you down on your own two feet.

“There,” he said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You were a little embarrassed at your theatrics, especially considering that the railing really wasn’t that high up now that you were looking at it.

“Thanks,” you said bashfully.

Danny’s tired smile soothed your embarrassment. “No sweat.”

He led the way backstage, and you were surprised to see that he only went into the dressing room that was obviously hosting the post-show party to get your jackets.

“You’re not gonna try and get the guys to convince me to stay?” you asked as he helped you put on your coat.

“If I thought it would work, maybe,” he said. He looked over his shoulder at you as he put on his own jacket. “Would it work?”

You sighed. “No. I need to get home to Ben.”

“Right.”

He turned back and continued to walk towards the exit, and you had to jog a few steps to keep up with his long strides.

“Where are you going, Danny?”

He gave you a bemused look. “I’m driving you home.”

You stopped. “No you’re not.”

He noticed you weren’t walking with him any more and turned around with a huff.

“Yes, I am,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Why are you driving me home?” you pressed. “You’re... you’ll miss out on the party.”

He shrugged. “We probably shouldn’t be partying all night anyway if we’re going camping tomorrow.”

“Sam and birdie are partying tonight,” you said.

“So they’ll be hungover as shit tomorrow,” he said, tossing his hands up in exasperation. “Who cares? You said you needed to go home, and I’m not letting you get in some creepy axe-murderer Uber just because your boyfriend’s too lazy to come get you.”

“Danny,” you warned.

“Fine,” he said. “Your boyfriend isn’t coming to get you for some chivalrous, sexy reason. Either way, I’m driving you home. So come on.”

You had no choice but to follow him as he started walking again, and you tugged on his jacket pocket to get him to slow down.

“Danny, wait.”

He sighed and stopped again. “Yes?”

“You don’t have to take me home,” you said. “It’s sweet of you to offer, but I’ll be fine taking an Uber, really. I don’t want you to miss out on the party.”

After a moment, he gave you a half smile. “Wouldn’t be much of a party without you there, sunshine.”

You softened. “Danny. Please don’t make yourself miserable because of me. I’ve already had one too many people do that tonight.”

He affectionately tweaked your cheek. “I’m not making myself miserable, I promise. I’m ready to go home, and you’re on the way.”

That was only sort of true, but you didn’t argue. You wouldn’t have been able to change his mind even if you had. He offered his hand and you took it, walking together to the parking garage.

You got in Danny’s car as he cranked it and turned the heat on low, combating the chilly early October weather outside. It wasn’t often that the boys drove in to shows by themselves, but they liked the novelty of it and did it whenever they could. You propped your arm on the door and pressed your head against the window, watching as Danny texted the group chat he was in with the guys.

“Just telling them I’m taking you home,” he said, sending the text and opening up Spotify. “Any requests?”

You shook your head. “Whatever’s good with me.”

He put a playlist on shuffle and backed out of his parking space as you pulled out your own phone to tell Ben you were on the way home.

You found an Uber ok? he asked.

No, Danny’s driving me, you said. Are you at mine or yours?

He didn’t text back right away. You set your phone down and listened to the song that was playing, John Anderson’s “Wild and Blue”.

“Hey, you listened to him,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “I didn’t know if you’d like his music.”

You could just make out Danny’s smile in the dark. “I do like him,” he said. “This song’s one of my favorites.”

It was one of your favorites too, and you hummed along to the melancholy, honky-tonk tune.

“ In somebody's room on the far side of town, with your mind all made up and the shades all pulled down, someone is trying to satisfy you — he don't know you're wild and you're blue.”

Danny was singing along, his voice soft and a little distracted as he made sure you were headed in the right direction on the highway. Your phone buzzed, and you read the text from Ben.

I’m at my apartment. Tell Wagner to take you to yours.

You felt a thrill of panic.

I thought you were waiting up for me, baby, you typed back, frantically trying to soothe him. I’m really eager to please, remember? ;)

Again, a pause, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

I don’t want to fight, you typed. Do you want to meet me at my place?

Finally, he replied, and your heart sank.

No. Tell Wagner he can keep you.

You put your phone in your pocket and tried to take a steadying breath. No reason to get worked up. He was just upset about what happened earlier, and you’d call him when you got home and work everything out.

“Everything ok?” Danny asked.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Fine. He’s... he’s at my place, so if you could drop me off there, that would be great.”

Danny seemed to sense that you weren’t up for conversation, and the rest of the ride home was quiet. When he pulled into one of the two parking spaces for your apartment, it was glaringly obvious that Ben’s care wasn’t in the other one.

“Didn’t you say he was here?” Danny asked, and you noticed a tinge of frustration in his voice.

“He’s... he’s coming in a little bit,” you said.

Danny looked over at you. “Sunshine...”

“It’s fine,” you said, taking your purse from the floorboard and opening the door. “He said he’s coming, so he’s coming. Thank you for driving me home.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Do you want me to wait with you until he gets here? I know you don’t like to be alone at night.”

You felt an uncomfortable ache in your chest.

“No, thanks,” you said, trying to keep your voice from wobbling. For some reason, the idea of Danny staying with you made you want to cry. “I’ll be okay.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and you knew he was trying to decide whether arguing would do any good.

“Okay,” he finally agreed. “But... please call me if you need me, sunshine. I mean it.”

You tried for a smile.

“I will,” you said. “Goodnight, Danny.”

He gave you a soft smile back. “Goodnight, sunshine. See you tomorrow. Try and get a good night's sleep, okay?”

He waited until you were safely inside to head home, and you watched him leave until you couldn’t see his car any more. Part of you wanted to call him and tell him to come back, to confess everything that was going on with you and Ben, to ask him to stay with you in your apartment that you hadn’t spent a night alone in for a long time.

Instead, you called Ben, and you got his voicemail. You texted him and asked him to call you when he got a minute, wanting to explain and ask his forgiveness; you showered and curled up in bed, waiting for your phone to light up with a notification.

It did, and you jumped up to read it. A heartsick sigh escaped you when you saw it was from Danny.

Sorry for being kind of a jerk tonight, he said. I shouldn't have talked about Ben like I did. I know you love him, and I just want you to be happy. I’m sorry.

You didn’t know what to say back. He texted again before you thought of how to respond.

Thanks for coming to the show, sunshine. I’m really glad you came. I’m excited about our trip tomorrow, and I can come get you if I need to. Just let me know.

You texted back a quick thank you and told him you’d text if you needed him. You looked back at your messages with Ben, and you felt the sting of tears. You sent him one last text, saying that you were sorry and still wanted to talk.

You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, waiting for your boyfriend to call you back.

series taglist: @dannythedog

gvf taglist: @stardustdanny @gvfrry @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf @serendipiti @jakeydoesit @gretasmokerising @loofypoofy @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @ria-gvf @s0livagant @katie-gvf @strugglingtodoshit @deadbeat-z @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii

forever taglist: @punkgeekcryptid

please fill out this taglist form or send me an ask to be added to any of these lists! ♡

#i hope you like it! it's different than what i planned originally but i think it's gonna be good ;)#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #danny wagner #sam x birdie #wild and blue fic #maddie writes stuff!

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slasherbaby · 3 years ago

Text

Call Me [read on ao3 or under the cut! ♡]

Pairing: Danny Johnson x Trans Masc reader (he/him pronouns)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, very mild breeding kink, knifeplay, cock/cunt used to describe the reader’s junk

Length: 4676 words

“Fuck,” Danny grunted into the phone, his voice low and forced. From sound alone, you can tell how he’s holding himself. It doesn’t take much imagination to envision the way his jaw strained, his eyebrows pulled down in the middle. “Wanna slide right into that cunt, fuck. Know you’d be so wet, such a fucking slut for me.”

Historically speaking, you’ve never been into dirty talk. It always sounded stiff, the guy talking to you usually too unsure of himself to sound even remotely sexy. But god, did it feel different with Danny. His deep voice, the rough edge around each syllable, and the naturally monotone way he spoke has always been enough to drive you crazy, ever since the first ‘hello.’

“Maybe I’d suck on that pretty fucking cock too, gotta make sure my baby’s nice and hard before I fuck him, right?”

It’s easy to picture how he’d look, looking up at you with his dark, dilated eyes. Holding your gaze as he worked your cock in his mouth. You bite down on your lower lip, stifling a groan at the sparks of pain that follow.

The laugh that comes through the receiver is rough and hoarse, sending a shiver of delight up your spine. “Don’t hide from me, angel. I already know how much of a whore you are,” Another laugh rasps through. “Everyone knows how you act at the bar after a few drinks, fucking brat. Drooling for attention, dancing around like you’re asking for it. Giving a show to everyone.”

“Yours,” You gasp, your voice just a touch away from sounding desperate. It’s the truth, afterall, but Danny already knows it. You both know that he’s the only one you’d let touch you, the only one you want to touch you. “Just yours.”

“And don’t fucking forget it.” Danny’s voice drops into a growl, making you whimper. “I’m the only one who gets you like this. You’re fucking mine, baby. Mine and mine alone.”

Another gasp falls from your lips, nodding your head even though you know he can’t see. Your cock is hard and aching, but you move your fingers away from where you’ve been circling it, going lower and lower until you reach your entrance.

“Danny…” You groan, squeezing your eyes shut as you wait for him to keep talking, to keep bringing you closer to the edge.

“You’ve got no idea how crazy it makes me to see how people look at you. Makes me wanna put a collar on you, fucking let everyone know who you belong to.” There’s a grunt from the other side of the phone, slick noises punctuating every breath Danny takes. “Or maybe the next time you wanna act like a whore, I’ll make you wear that little red dress in your closet. You know the one, don’t you?”

You groan out a noise of confirmation, chest swelling up when he hums in approval.

“I’ll bring you out to Walleyes with me after work, and I’ll fuck you in the bathroom. I know how dirty sluts like you want it, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to fill you up real good before sending you off to dance. Without your panties, of course. Gotta see if you can keep my come in without it dripping out. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know I would. Letting everyone know how fucking good I breed my baby.”

Your hole clenches around nothing, desperately seeking out something to fill it as Danny spews filth into your ear. Pretending it’s Danny, you slowly push in a single digit. It’s not nearly enough to satisfy, but that’s nothing you aren’t used to.

Adding another finger gives you a bit of a stretch, but it pales in comparison to how Danny’s fingers would feel. His hand dwarfs yours, his fingers long and thick and perfect for curling up at just the right angle.

“S’not enough.” You groan as you thrust into yourself, but it’s hardly a groan of pleasure.

“What’s not enough?”

“My fingers, it’s-” Another groan comes from your lips, but this time it’s filled with frustration. You’ve been pent up all day, even though you just saw Danny the night before. And yet you still can’t satisfy yourself. Not by yourself, anyway.

You know you could come in a matter of minutes if you really wanted to. From your fingers pressed against your cock. It’s how you usually get off, rubbing one out quickly. Rarely do you try and fuck yourself, only dipping down to collect some of your wet and use it to make your cock nice and slick to finish yourself off.

But those orgasms are bland. Fun, of course, but not what you really want. You want the thigh shaking, eye rolling, screaming orgasm that you know can only come from being properly fucked.

Little tears of frustration well up in your eyes as you adjust your hips, trying and failing to find a better angle. “It’s just not enough.”

“Baby,” Danny coos mockingly, his deep voice vibrating through the phone. “You don’t have anything else to fill you up? No toys?”

Your first instinct is to snap back at him, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue instead. It’s embarrassing, how needy you feel. But your desire’s rolling off of you in waves of heat, and it’s a thirst you can’t quench on your own.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You mumble, pressing the side of your face into your pillow. “S’not my fault…”

“Are you pouting?” Danny’s voice is a shade away from being more condescending than you can bear, his tone unlawfully sweet. You can tell he’s talking through a grin. “Fucking yourself while pouting? Fuck, angel. You’re too much.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence, but it’s not from the way you're grinding your hips. The lump in your throat and the tears in your eyes don’t do anything but make you feel stupid, so fucking stupid that a part of you wants to hang up right then and there. As delicious as his voice is, you crave your boyfriend’s touch more than phone sex.

“Darling, are you crying?”

You sniffle, shaking your head. You’re too far gone, too lost in your head to realize he won’t be able to see you. After a moment, you hear Danny chuckle. It’s too much, your face is burning something fierce and you can’t handle anymore embarrassment. With a click, you hang up the phone, pulling your fingers out of yourself and cramming your face properly into the pillow.

A minute passes in silence, before you hear the sound of your phone trilling next to you. You pick it up before it can get to the second ring, fully ready to apologize for acting like such a baby. It was supposed to be a sexy thing, not something so dramatic.

“Danny?”

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You roll over, facing the ceiling with a pinched expression. “I-“

“I’ll be over in thirty.”

“Minutes?” You sit completely upright, clutching onto your phone like a vice.

“Be ready for me, Angel. ”

Your heart jolts in your chest when the line cuts out, and you immediately drop your phone back onto the receiver. You slap your hand over your face, covering up the grin that’s started to grow.

You didn’t expect Danny to be so… down? Especially so late at night, when he has work in the morning, nonetheless. Jumping off the bed, you rush to your dresser, grabbing the folded robe on top of it.

You slip your arms through the sleeves before turning to face the mirror, eyes darting across your body. It’s a simple little thing, something vintage and pretty that caught your eye when you were shopping for clothes a while back. It’s light blue, made from silky satin that hardly reaches your upper thighs and delicate white lace that kisses the hem of the fabric. You tie the robe shut at the small of your waist, looping the sash into a messy bow at the front.

There’s a knock at your door the second you finish looking yourself over, making you nearly jump out of your skin in surprise. You leave your bedroom in a rush, but as you pass by the living room to get to the front door, you pause. Licking your lips, you shoot a glance towards the grandfather clock. Hardly five minutes had passed since he called you.

There was no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place that fast. The excitement in your chest pops, deflating like a sad balloon as you approach the front door, leaning forward with your hands against the wood. When you look through the keyhole, you frown. There’s no one in sight.

“Probably just kids messing around…” You murmur, fiddling with sash at your waist.

But before you can turn away from the door, something leather slams over your mouth, and your cheek is being shoved up against the wood. You try to kick back at whoever grabbed you, but it’s no use. They have an iron grip, and all fighting back gets you is their front shoved against your back, holding you tight against the front door.

You can’t move your hands with the way they’ve been trapped between your body and the door, no matter how hard you struggle against it. They release your mouth, but you’re still too stunned to speak. It’s only then, when you feel the sharp end of a blade press against your thigh, that you realize how vulnerable you are.

“My boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute now.” You grit out as they put the tip of their knife against your sensitive inner thigh. They press hard, hard enough to break skin if you don’t open your legs wider, so you’re forced to move with it. “He’s big and tall and he’ll-“ You’re breath hitches as the person behind you trails the knife up, getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. “He’s a scary motherfucker and he’ll fucking kill you if you touch me!” Your voice breaks as you shout, and to your surprise, the person actually pulls the knife away.

The chuckle that comes next, low and familiar, surprises you as well.

“A ‘scary motherfucker’?” It’s Danny’s voice that greets you, his lips kissing the shell of your ear as he speaks. “Hmm. I guess I am.”

“Danny,” You breathe out, the fear leaving your body like a tidal wave. “What the fuck are you-“

One of his gloved hands cuts you off again before you can finish your sentence, pressing tight against your mouth. His other hand slides eagerly between your legs, slipping inside you without warning.

“You know I don’t like being hung up on.” His voice was far from what you were familiar with, low and grating in your ear. The laugh that follows it equally as foreign. “Ha… should’ve know that you’d get wet from that, fucking slut.”

Like you’re any better, you try to growl, but the leather trapping your mouth makes it impossible to speak, your words coming out in muffled irritation instead.

He laughs, kicking your legs further apart with one of his heavy boots. With a slick sound that makes you blush, he removes his fingers from your slit.

The zipper on his pants hardly makes a noise as he frees himself, but it’s enough to make you press back against him by instinct alone. He moves his hand away from your mouth, pressing his palm against your upper back instead, keeping you pinned to the wall.

You gasp out- something warm and hard pressing up against your entrance. He laughs as he slots his cock between your thighs, right up against your sex, dragging the head along your hardness.

“Danny,” You moan, arching your back and wiggling your hips, hoping to angle it just enough so that he slips inside of you. He’s never taken you like this before, even though you know he’s wanted to, and the rush of it nearly makes your head spin.

“Hmm?” He asks, voice terribly calm for the situation. “What is it? Do you wanna stop?” And just as easily as he started, he pulls back. Grunting a bit before the zipper on his pants is pulled back up. “C’mere.”

You want to cry all over again, so desperately close to getting what you need and yet so far all the same.

“I didn’t mean sto-“

You cut yourself off with a noise of surprise as he grabs you by the hair, pulling you around harshly and forcing you to face him. After he lets go, he takes a few steps back, leather boots thudding heavy against the wooden floor.

You open your mouth, but whatever words you want to say die on your tongue as he reaches out, touching your cheek. The back of his knuckles brush delicately against your cheekbone.

Your stomach does somersaults as he looks you over, taking your body in full. His hand moves down, tracing the outline of your waist through the robe. You can hardly feel his touch, but it makes you shiver all the same.

“I must be the luckiest guy,” Danny murmurs as he takes hold of the end of the bow tying your robe together, slowly pulling it until it comes undone. He lets your robe fall open, the night air cool on your front, and slips his hand inside the fabric to stroke your hip. “To have such a pretty baby.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the praise, but Danny doesn’t let it slide. He takes you by the chin, the pad of his gloved thumb stroking the skin under your lower lip.

“You know that, right?” He nods your head for you, gently tilting your head up and down. You open your eyes, brows slightly furrowed, only to meet his smile. “There we go, pretty thing. Always so ready for me… Always so good…”

You push up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself further into Danny’s touch. You don’t say a word as you slip your hands under his leather jacket, running along the fabric of his shirt before going under it as well. Your lips quirk up when you feel his abdomen tighten, straining with the muscle you already know is there. You trail one of your hands down, letting a stray finger hook into his belt loop.

“Rode all this way,” You murmur, ignoring the way your gut squirms with confusion. There’s no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place so fast, not even if he was speeding the whole way. “And you won’t even kiss me…”

Danny snorts, his hand turning tight on your hip, gripping you hard. “That’s all you want?” He leans down to press his lips against yours, so soft it makes your heart ache.

It’s the contrast with him. The push and pull. So hot and eager one minute, yet so cold and distant the next. But his lips are sweet and kind against yours, and you can’t bring yourself to pick at the scabs of question that litter your relationship with him.

When he pulls back, his voice is rough against your mouth, lips moving like butterfly kisses against yours. “Just one kiss?”

You unzip his jeans in response, nipping at his lower lip when he chuckles.

“Mmhm. That’s what I thought.”

In a quick motion, Danny wraps one arm under your thigh and the other tight around your waist, hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. You nearly yelp at him, your hands slipping out from under his shirt. Before you have the chance to respond, he has your back pressed up against the door once again.

He kisses you with ferocity you’ve never felt from another. Licking into your open mouth, he waits for you to moan before biting down on your lower lip. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking down when he sinks his teeth down into it again.

Danny works his way down from your lips, sucking dark bruises on your neck and jawline. You gasp and let go of his hair, grabbing onto the back of his neck instead.

“Danny,” You try to speak but the second you start, he’s biting down hard. Right under your jawline, where he knows you’re most sensitive, making you melt into a gasping mess.

He pulls back by a fraction, leaving his lips to rest against the mark he’s made. You can feel the smile on his lips when he speaks, low and so gravely that you swear you can feel it thrumming through your throat. “What was that?”

You laugh, something that starts out soft but turns breathless once he replaces his lips with his tongue. “Choke me,” You rush, as if you’re worried you might forget if he keeps going. The tongue on your neck disappears, and doubt flashes in your mind. “If you want.” You clarify, just as fast. “You can if you want, I mean. I… I don’t mind.”

“Is that right, baby? You don’t mind?”

You nod your head as he adjusts his hips, keeping you stable against the wall so he can pull away from your neck. The look on his face is diabolical, and if you weren’t being held up you’re sure it would be enough to send you to your knees.

“Wanna know what I think?”

You lick over your kiss-bitten lips and nod.

“I think my baby’s a fucking freak.” His hand goes around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. You press into the touch, exhaling through your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, butterflies batting their wings in your stomach.

“I just... I-” Your stammer is cut off by the hand on your throat tightening, stopping the words before they can fall from your tongue.

Your eyes widen as Danny leans in, propping up his thigh to keep you up against the wall. His hand slides down then, squeezing the inner of your upper thigh. You know where he’s going, and let out a shaky exhale, wrapping your legs tighter around him in anticipation. When he touches you, you bite your lower lip.

“You’re still dripping,” Danny sing-songs, dragging two fingers through your folds. He avoids your cock, but just him touching you is enough for you to groan. “I’d say you’re even more wet now.”

Your eyes bulge as he flexes his arm muscles, the veins on his forearm straining from the pressure. The ease at which he can cut off your breath should scare you, but all you can process is the heavy, humid heat that’s filling up your mind. You don’t struggle for breath, you don’t need to yet, but you do open your mouth when he squeezes even tighter.

“It’s so hot,” He groans, pressing forward until his arm is trapped between both of your chests, and his mouth is panting against your ear. “Feeling how bad you need me,”

If his fist wasn’t wrapped around your throat, you would’ve whined. You can feel his heavy puffs of air on the side of your face, and how his chest moves with every ragged breath. You tilt your hips up, trying to get him to move his fingers down. You’ve been waiting so long, and all you want is to feel him inside you. But he just chuckles, presses closer, stilling your hips.

“Desperate,” Danny rasps. “Fucking slut, can’t come unless I’m inside you?”

Your cheeks burn, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’re nearly spaced out, your head beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen.

“So fucking wet for it, so wet for me,” He inhales shakily, like he’s trying to pull himself together, before letting you breathe again.

You suck in a deep breath, head spinning from the sudden rush of oxygen. He keeps his hand on your throat, not tight enough to choke, but just enough to serve as a reminder of what he could do. Danny presses further up against you, crushing you into the door as he slips a digit inside your heat.

“Oh,” You groan as he adds another, curling them upwards as his thumb starts to massage your cock. “Danny,”

He doesn’t respond, too far gone to speak as he watches you. His eyes are dark and open wide, with an unfamiliar, wild glint in them. The way he works you feels the same, rough and fast, almost in time with his heavy pants.

“You’re driving me crazy,” He grunts, squeezing your neck. “Having you like this-” he cuts himself off with a deep inhale before pulling out completely.

Before you have the time to complain, he’s grabbing you by the hips again, walking a few feet over to the kitchen table, and slamming you down onto it. Your back thuds when it hits the old wood, your eyes wide with shock. He shoves your legs apart, grabbing you by the thighs so he can drag you closer to him.

The skillful way he unbuckles and unzips his pants could almost seem calm if it wasn’t betrayed by the near frantic look in his eyes. He only gets his jeans undone enough to pull his cock out before grabbing you again, pulling until your ass is almost hanging over the table, and thrusting into you.

You can’t be embarrassed by the noise he drags from your throat, something high and strangled and fuck, you know that if it wasn’t for him stretching you out before, he’s big enough that it would’ve hurt. He doesn’t speak as he thrusts, fucking you as you’ve never been fucked before. He’s like a man on the brink, his hands gripping you hard enough to leave bruises.

There’s a moan stuck in your throat, some words too. An assortment of garbled sentences, but each thrust punches them right out until you’re being pounded into a whining, half-crying mess. He’s hitting all the right places, angling his hips just right, and slamming into you until you see stars.

It’s only after you get close, your thighs shaking and straining with the effort, that Danny grabs your throat, squeezing hard as he slows down his thrusts. “If I had my way, I’d keep you like this all the time.”

You swallow back another moan, your eyes still wide when they meet his.

“So wet and open, like you were fucking made for me.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, hard and slow. His hand turns to a fist, cutting off your airflow. “Gonna give you what you need, gonna take good care of my baby,” Danny moves his hand from your thigh to your waist, ghosting over your stomach. “And if you’re good, I might even fuck one into you.”

Your back arches as you come, his words are all you need to go right over the edge. Black ebbs away at your vision as Danny fucks you through it, hard and fast, choking you as you writhe on his cock. He’s set the pace now, and keeps it steady even as you come back down into your body. It’s nearly too much, but you can’t find the strength to articulate your words.

His hand leaves your throat, but only to trail down your chest, moving to your navel. His fingers find your cock easily, and you yelp in some sort of mix between pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and you arch your back off the table, shimming your hips, doing anything to escape his touch. It’s fire, his touch. Blinding, painful, but so damn hot you can’t help but crave more.

It lasts for years, the constant mix between pain and pleasure. The digit on your cock only lets up once Danny’s breathing turns to pants, sweat beading on his forehead. His hips stutter, slowing down for a moment before gripping your hips with a sudden, newfound intensity. Your skin pales where he’s applied pressure, slamming you down hard onto his cock.

“Angel,” Danny groans, fucking into you once, twice, three times. He comes with a growl, his eyes never shutting as he rides out his pleasure.

There’s a whine in your throat, spilling from your lips just as he fills you up. You’ve never done this without a condom before, but now that you have, you don’t know how you could ever go back to wrapping it up. He leans back, still inside you, catching his breath. Sucking in greedy lungfuls as you watch, your chest heaving with the same intensity.

When he moves to pull out, you grab both of his wrists, not giving him the option of letting go of your hips.

“Wait,” You murmur, pulling him in closer. There’s no real strength behind it, but Danny humors you all the same. You bring one of his hands up to your cheek and nuzzle into it, peppering a few light kisses on his knuckles.

He leans forward, and you kiss him softly, both of you smiling into it. You free his hands, having gotten what you wanted, and he moves them to trail down your chest, caressing your sides. He leaves one to rest on your belly, the other one moving to the side of your neck.

“You really liked that, huh?” Danny asks quietly, his voice a low whisper against your skin.

“Shut up.”

He huffs, kissing the side of your head in what you can tell is exasperation.

A part of you wishes you could stay like this forever. It makes you feel safe, having Danny surrounding you so fully. It makes you feel loved. But the smarter part of you knows that he has to be up at six tomorrow morning, and you don’t know if he’ll stay once you fall asleep. If you’re already in the bedroom, clinging to him under the covers, he’ll stay the night. But if you doze off on the kitchen table, you know he’ll only tuck you into bed before leaving.

“Bed?” You ask, looking up at Danny with half lidded eyes. You can feel the fondness in his gaze as he stares down at you, waiting a few seconds before nodding.

“Yeah baby. C’mere.”

His hands are gentle as they slide over your body, and you have to stop him before he can try and carry you himself.

“I can walk, you know. I’m not gonna break.” You try to chastise, but a smile breaks through your facade. He grins back, lips spreading to reveal teeth, sharp and as deadly as ever. But his lips are soft, plush against your skin and gentle in a way that is too hard for your muddled mind to try and describe. “You know that first hand.”

Danny slips his arms around you once more, chuckling softly against your skin. “I sure do.” He leans up, taking you into his arms as he straightens out his body. “It’ll take a lot more to break you, darling. I know that first hand.”

He carries you to bed with your face tucked into the crook of his neck and your arms slung loosely around his shoulders, and he only needs one arm to pull back the sheets, keeping the other around your waist, before laying you down and tucking you in.

“Stay?” The space between your thighs is sore, and your voice is hoarse from his hand wrapped around your neck. But you amplify it just a bit, making your voice a bit more gravely than it ought to. You have to stay. you’re trying to convey. Look what you’ve done to me, you can’t just leave me like this.

He shucks off his jeans and jacket before slipping in beside you. Warming your bed like he has all the times before, with his arms around you and his face buried in your hair.

You shut your eyes to the sound of him murmuring, and even though you can’t quite hear what he’s saying, you repeat the words back on instinct.

“Love you too, Danny. Love you forever.”

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fangirl-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Confident

Ethan Morgan x Alt!Fem!Reader

Request: Hey!! Do you still take requests for mbav? If so, could you do something with Ethan and an alt reader where they go on their first date (she asked him) and he's shy at first but grows confident in time?? Sorry if that was a lot...

Notes: Indeed I do but only by request so you’re in the clear! I wasn’t sure how to make the reader alt so I hope I did okay!

Warning(s): None

When you asked Ethan out on a date, he thought he was going to pass out.

He could barely squeak out a yes before you were kissing his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain, and strutting down the hallway.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, E.”

It shocked the entire friend group when he told them.

Mostly because you, to the nerd squad at least, were intimidating as hell and Ethan was puppy in comparison.

You dyed your hair a different color like every month (Ethan’s personal favorite was platinum silver because it matched his eyes when he had a vision), you had more piercings than he could even imagine getting (just the thought of a needle anywhere near his skin made him nauseous), and your makeup left those fake, sparkly, emo vampires in the dust.

And Ethan had been obsessed with you since you switched sides at the last second and saved him from being murdered by one of Jesse’s vampires.

Yeah, Sarah was attractive and all, but you? Just wow.

He had been standing in front of his bathroom mirror for about ten minutes now, trying to decide if he looked good enough.

You being you had decided that you would meet him at his house instead of the other way around.

Had he overdone it on the cologne? Was it gonna be like the first time he met Sarah? He did not want that to happen, you would totally call him on it. Did his hair look alright? Surely you liked the greaser look, right?

His phone rang and he picked it up, a facetime from Benny popping up on the screen.

“Hey, B,”

“Hey- woah! Am I talking to Ethan or Jakeward?”

Ethan blushed and frowned. “Shut up, Benny,”

“Dude, come on, you can not go out with Y/N like that.”

“Well, I don’t want to go looking like my regular nerdy self! And besides...I probably couldn’t get all the gel out of my hair in time.”

“Puh-lease tell me you didn’t overdo it on the Silver Steel again. Because you don’t want to smell like a middle school locker room.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t. I don’t think...”

The doorbell rang from downstairs.

“That’s probably her, gotta go!”

“Good luck, Danny Zuko,” Benny said with a wink and a finger gun.

Ethan hung up quickly.

The doorbell rang again as Ethan descended the stairs. His mom was about to get it until, “Mom, mom, mom, I got it, it’s probably Y/N,”

“Oh,” She looked him up and down. “Ethan, you look...nice.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, mom,” he said.

She nodded and walked away before he pulled the door open.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said.

You were wearing a cute little black dress that complimented him and his leather jacket (left over from his Halloween costume).

“Hey,” You replied with a smile, raising an eyebrow at his appearance. “Wow, you look-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “I over did it, didn’t I?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just-” You bit your lip, letting out a hum before moving forward towards him.

His hands instinctively went to your waist as you reached up to run your hands through his hair, messing it up until it was similar to his usual style.

“That’s better,” You said with a smile.

He laughed lightly. “I guess it is. Leather jacket okay?”

“For a date, yeah, but I wouldn’t have you wearing it every day,”

He smiled back at her, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “Should we go?”

You nodded, taking his hand and leading the way out the door which he closed behind him.

“So.” he said, cheerily. “Where are we going?”

“Well, I thought I could introduce you to my vampire cult, bind you to me via a blood sacrifice, and feed on your blood for all eternity.”

“Wha-what?” Ethan squeaked out.

You laughed. “I’m kidding...obviously,”

Ethan laughed awkwardly. “Haha...yeah...obviously.”

“I thought we could start out normally with a nice dinner. I think we have enough excitement in our lives,”

Ethan let out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

Your car sat at the end of the driveway, sleek and black. “You don’t mind if I drive, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Ethan said. “I’d honestly prefer it,”

You smiled at him and Ethan felt butterflies in his stomach. Oh, he had it bad.

He pulled open the passenger side door, noticing Benny waving frantically and giving him a thumbs up from his window.

Ethan smiled at his best friend and gave a quick wave back before ducking in the car.

“I was going to take you to that nice Italian place in town but then I thought I’d better not give the garlic theory a try so I opted for a burger joint instead, cool?”

“The coolest,” Ethan said with an awkward smile, mentally slapping himself because of how stupid his reply sounded.

“Awesome,” You replied, continuing your drive down the road.

The car ride was mostly quiet, the music on the radio the only noise breaking the silence.

That was until you pulled into-

“A McDonald’s?” Ethan asked with a grin. “You’re taking me on our first date to a McDonald’s?”

You laughed. “Yes, bozo, I’m taking you to McDonald’s, my treat.”

“No way,” Ethan replied. “You picked me up and drove here, I’m paying for dinner. I can actually afford here.”

“That was kinda the idea,”

“You cheapskate,”

You both laughed and you pushed Ethan good naturedly. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

The McDonald’s was mostly empty except for a few people eating alone. The florescent lights bathing the restaurant in an almost eerie atmosphere.

“We’ve been in creepier places, right?” You reasoned.

Ethan shrugged and walked up to the counter where the cashier lazily took your order and handed you two drink cups.

He grabbed them and passed yours to you. “Okay, I’m starting to think maybe this place is run by zombies,” he joked.

You chuckled quietly. “Cashier dude does look dead standing up,”

“You would too if you had to work the night shift at McDonald’s.”

“Totally. ‘Uuuggh here’s your mcchicken, can I eat your brain?’”

Ethan laughed and the cashier side eyed you. “Shh! Come on let’s go sit down before he really does decide to eat out brains,”

You both slid into a booth on opposite sides, still giggling.

“So, geek extraordinaire, what can I learn about you I don’t already know?”

“I don’t know you’ve seen me naked and been in room. Not a lot left to learn.”

You laughed. “Come on, there’s gotta be something you don’t plaster on your walls like trophies.”

Ethan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Not really. I like Star Wars, I like DnD, I know a lot about things that most people don’t know are real, and I have vision when I touch things.”

“Have you ever seen a vision when you touched me?” You asked.

“Well, uh,” he hesitated. “Only once.”

“Really? What was it about?”

He cleared his throat. “Just, uh, about your past. Then I knew I- er, we could trust you,”

You smiled, but he could see the discomfort in your eyes. Your past was a touchy subject, something that you avoided discussing. The fact that he knew about it and hadn’t brought it up before probably hurt your feelings a little bit.

He began to shut in on himself again while he watched you swirl your drink with your straw.

He frowned. You know what? he thought. Not this time.

“I can’t control it,” he said, making you look up at him. “And I didn’t mention it because I knew you didn’t like to talk about it. I should have told you, though, I’m sorry.”

You gave him a crooked smile. “That’s alright, Eth. Thanks.”

He nodded and, in a burst of courage, reached across the table for your hand.

In that moment, the sluggish cashier called out your ticket number.

Ethan let go of your hand and stood up, “I’ll get it,”

You nodded and he trotted up to the counter, grabbing the tray, and heading back.

Meanwhile, you were sipping at your drink, trying to get rid of the blush that was covering your cheeks after he grabbed your hand.

He set the tray down and handed you your order and taking his own burger.

You reached across the table this time and took his hand back in yours.

All right, Ethan thought, this is the start of something good.

#ethan morgan x reader #mbav fanfic #mbav x reader #mbav imagine #ethan morgan imagine #mbav ethan #ethan mbav #my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitter's a vampire imagine #my babysitter's a vampire x reader

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years ago

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An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

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