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starry-bi-sky · 5 months

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Hello!! Question about clone^2, what are the styles of Danny and Damian? Like day to day stuff for example. Does Danny buy Damian the traditional 8 yr old clothes (dinosaurs with sunglasses tees, stuff like that) or does Damian already have a style he likes? And Danny! I know that Sam gives Danny various punk hairstyles and that he prefers gender neutral stuff but outside of that what would Danny wear in general?

You don’t have to answer of course, but I’ll give you a thank you in advance!

- kindest regards, Gas Can

I LOVE GETTING ASKS NO WORRIES MY GUY. AS MY FAVORITE SAYING GOES 'THE QUICKEST WAY TO STARRY'S HEART IS THROUGH HER ASK BOX'.

And I love this question, this is a good one!! If damian's 8 then he's been around the fenton house for about a year or so. I can't see baby dames ever willingly wearing traditional child-like clothes, at least not in the beginning when he first arrives at the Fenton house. Which he'd be around 6-7.

Danny tells him (with the help of google translate) that he's going shopping to buy him new clothes sometime during Damian's early stay since the little man had been wearing the same clothes he arrived in for a while (which you can find here with the reblog of the colored version) and honestly he probably asks damian if he wants to come along to pick something out. he doesn't know the kid's style and it might be a bad idea because damian might make a run for it, but danny's caught him before at this point.

(plus he'll need help carrying bags - his hands are freshly injured and still smarting. they're not as bad as they will be in the future, but hand injuries hurt. consider it repayment for being the cause of it, damian)

And early Damian would choose clothes that remind him most of the league - so dark colors, more formal styles, think like how you'd imagine his original template to dress like, if you will. Danny is side-eyeing him in judgy bewilderment, but says nothing other than to complain about the price tag. Of which Damian has no idea what he's saying. He'd stick with those clothes until he has his little moment with Danny in the OPS Center where he finally tells him he's a clone (even though Danny already knows) and that he doesn't want to go back. After that he'd reluctantly and steadily start branching out.

So eight year old Damian, whose begun to chill out more and act more like a child his age would? I don't think he'd ever wear graphic t-shirts about kids shows, but I can see him wearing graphic tees of like, animal facts on it, animals, stars, etc etc, and then plain shirts in a variety of increasing color. I have this mental image that Danny buys Damian one of those joke shirts that says "bro I'm 8" / "this is what an awesome eight year old looks like" (with two thumbs pointing at itself) and Damian wears it to school a week later. Damian's variety of shirts increases the more comfortable he gets and the more he comes into his own identity.

Damian also, steadily, keeps stealing Danny's flannels even if they're almost comically large on him. They're comfy and he's embracing his role as baby brother (and also he really looks up to him because he understands, to an extent, of what danny's done for him). Danny and the Fentons start buying Damian his own after a while because, well, he can't keep taking Danny's.

And Danny! I'm so glad you mentioned Danny, my favorite GNC boy. I keep forgetting myself sometimes that I gave him long hair, even if it is my favorite thing about him. And honestly? Danny doesn't really do much with his hair if Sam isn't styling it. He usually lets it stay down on his head, and then pulls it back into a ponytail or a half-ponytail at school depending on what he's doing (gym vs a test).

He keeps it in a ponytail as phantom to keep it out of his face, and then when he's working on a Ghost Case he sometimes has it up in a (messy™) bun because the feeling of having his hair on his neck when its in a ponytail drives him nuts, especially when sleep deprived. Sam teaches him how to braid it back into a simple braid and its become a new fidget for him to braid his hair and then unbraid it. It's easier to keep off his face than a ponytail, so he sometimes braids it back when he's sneaking out as phantom. It happens more often once he gets skilled at it.

And danny's style! I know you probably only meant his hairstyle, but I also wanna talk about his aesthetic! He doesn't really put much into his appearance. Very teenager-y boy 'threw on the first thing i saw on a hanger/floor' type, but he kinda has a bit more of a casual, soft grungy-like look as an older teen. Just some hints of Sam's influence - and you know what, some of Tucker's as well because that's his best friend too.

(Off topic but 19yo Danny from my Childhood Friends Dead On Main au has a similar style that's a bit soft punk as well, and that is somewhat more intentional on CFAU Danny's part. Why make an au if I can't play dress up with my favorite character? :))

Mostly because I read a Spider-Man x DP fic that described Danny (from an outsider's pov) as looking kinda like a skater boy who listens to alt rock music and it's been my personal interpretation of him ever since. So he has band tees, flannels, graphic tees with jokes on them, shirts with astronomy facts on them, and idk if he'd ever buy ripped jeans but Sam has certainly bought him some and they fit so *shrugs* he wears them. And he has one or two of those denim jackets with the hoodie sewn inside it. And from Tucker he has a few turtlenecks because Tucker reads as a turtleneck-kinda guy, geek chic-ish.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #danny fenton is a clone #danny fenton is not the ghost king #damian wayne has a clone #the quickest way to starry's heart is through her ask box #its not a starry post unless its long #srsly tho i love getting asks even if i haven't answered them. so anyone who sends me an ask: i see them!! i love them!!! if i havent-#answered it its because I can't think of anything *to* say to it that i think would make a fulfilling ask. but i see it and i love it #unmentioned in the post but danny also has a few black croptops of the rave-variety from when he needs to pull what he likes to call a #'brucie wayne moment' and its my favorite part of the clone danny au bc youre gonna look me in the eye and say that there's a-#non-malicious TEENAGE bruce wayne clone running around and he DOESNT have a brucie wayne impression? brucie wayne is a #walking meme in of himself. absolutely a teenage clone of him would pretend to be him sometimes even if its a joke. he wouldnt get away wit #being bruce wayne considering the 30 year age gap BUT acting like him? he can do that AND make someone (or a dozen) swoon at the same time #danny has his identity crisis issues but that doesnt mean he can't have FUN with it. he shares a face with the biggest himbo alive yes he #will use that to his advantage when he's aware of it.#gas can anon #i love that signoff btw #brucie wayne is half the reason i made the clone danny au for a reason - the pure shenanigans of having his face #could potentially cause #like yeah he’s batman’s clone blah blah blah but BRUCIE WAYNE. THE BIMBO HIMSELF

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sneezingfetishftw-fics · 2 months

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Insufferable (1/7)

My sick!Vox fic is finally up, or at least part 1 is! Decided to break into what I think will be 2 chapters. Featuring an insufferable bastard, plus caretaking from the Vees.

Next chapters: 2 3 4 5 6 7

Wavs: 1 3

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“Why are the lights so fucking bright in here? Are you trying to give me a headache?” Vox was often a bit of an insufferable prick, but today he was far worse than usual. His interview for Voxtech Angelic Security was just an hour away and he’d already managed to insult pretty much everyone in the room. The lights dimmed, he returned to a previous complaint. “And why haven’t you turned the AC colder already? It’s like a sauna in here!”

“The AC is already as cold as it goes, sir.”

“Then fix it! God, what am I even paying you for?” He paused, then pulled out his cell phone. “Hey Val, are you free right now? I got an employee I’d like you to knock some sense into—or rip the limbs off of, whichever you prefer. I could do it myself, but I know how much you enjoy that thing.”The employee shuddered. “Great, thanks! See you soon.”

Vox looked around. “Where is my water bottle? There should be one on the interviewing desk. Is anyone around here doing their goddamn job?” Another employee rushed over with a water bottle. “Finally.” He took a sip and immediately grimaced. “Where did you get this? Normal water doesn’t scrape my throat like that! Disgusting.” He threw the water bottle aside, pausing only to make sure the lid was on first.

He took a deep breath, which immediately triggered a coughing fit, his voice crackling like a broken speaker. His screen went grey and fuzzy, static flaring with each cough. “Who did the last maintenance on the filtration system?” A sheepish woman stepped forward. “Fix it! Actually, no. Get out. You’re fired. The air is so thick in here I can hardly breathe.” She hung her head and wandered off. It wasn’t like she was the first to be fired on a whim, and at least Vox didn’t literally tear people apart. “I’ll take a look at it along with the AC, then, sir,” the employee from earlier offered.

“You’d better. But don’t think that’s enough to save you,” Vox said, standing so close the employee could hardly hear anything over the fan. “Val’s still on his way.” The employee gulped.

Valentino began shivering the moment he stepped in the door, but he ignored that and made a beeline for Vox. “Where’s the victim?” he asked with a grin.

Vox pointed to the man cowering in the corner. “He won’t fix the AC.” Val nodded, still shivering. “He says it’s already as cold as it can go, but I’m boiling here!” Val raised an eyebrow at that. A loud whirring started as Vox’s fans kicked in.

Val put a hand on Vox’s forehead, and jerked it away almost immediately. “Amorcito, you’re incredibly hot!”

“Save it for later, Val,” Vox chuckled.

“No, I mean it’s hard to believe how much you’re overheating. And in a freezing room, no less. I thought my hand was going to burn!” Vox crossed his arms and shook his head. “I mean it, Vox, you’re obviously running a fever!”

“Shut up. I’m fi… hi…” his screen flickered with each hitch. “Hi’tzzzcht! Fine.”

“Sir?” The employee raised a finger tentatively, regaining some boldness now that neither of them was ripping him apart. “One of the lights just broke.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me? Just fix it! Ugh, it’s a wonder anything gets done around here.” He gave a long sniff, trying to stave off the buzzing tickle. “And send a cleaning crew in. It’s way too du… huh… huh… hut’TZZZZSHT! Dusty in here.”

“We just cleaned yesterday…” the employee said weakly, trying not to look at the speaker that had just popped.

“I didn’t ask you when the last cleaning was, I asked you to clean the damn studio! Now get on with it before I change my mind and let Val rip your arms off.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The employee practically ran off to begin his tasks as Val gave a toothy grin, looking menacing despite the intense shivering.

“There you go. I’ll be back here for the sound check. And this place better be fucking spotless.”

Vox and Val walked out the door. “I’ll catch you at the penthouse,” Vox said, activating his teleportation powers. He only made it a few feet. “Hhh’dzzzzcht!” The hallway lights flickered.

“How about we walk together?” Val offered, wrapping his arm around Vox. Vox sighed, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. Repeatedly teleporting a few feet at a time sounded even more annoying than walking. While they walked, Val pulled out his phone with his free hand to text Velvette. “Meet at the penthouse ASAP.”

Velvette almost dropped her phone when she saw the pair of them walk through the door. “Walk” was actually a bit of an overstatement. Vox was practically staggering, leaning heavily on Val for support. His screen was dimmed, except for a bright spot in the center where his nose would be, if he had one. His fans were still whirring loudly. His normally immaculate suit was wrinkled, as if he’d crumpled in on himself repeatedly. The man was, quite obviously, a mess.

Velvette stared in silence for a moment. “Wow. He really does look awful, doesn’t he?”

Vox glared. “I’m fine. I’m just taking a quick break before the studio’s ready for my interview. Those morons still have a lot to set up.” The pair stared at him.

“Um, Vox? You sure now is the best time for an interview?” Velvette asked.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, his hypnotic eye swirling so slowly it might as well be a broken Ferris wheel.

“Right,” Velvette said, rolling her eyes as Vox’s screen flickered again. “Totally fine, and definitely not about to sneeze.”

“I’m not going to… hih’tzzzzch!” He opened his mouth to protest more, but no sound came out. Damn it, were his audio drivers glitching too? Or was it just his vocal cords? He smacked the side of his head with a grimace. “The interview has to be today. If I delay it, it’ll look like we’re hiding something.” Thank god that worked. Vox without his voice was… well, he really didn’t want to think about that.

Velvette raised an eyebrow. “You literally just smacked yourself in the head cause you couldn’t talk. You really think you’re in a good state to be giving an interview?”

Vox’s screen brightened for a moment. “I’m fine! It’s fixed now.” His screen dimmed again, then started flickering. “I’m perfectly heal… heh… hhh… healthy! Just let me go to the godda… ehh… ahh… hah’TZZZZSHT! The goddamn interview.” Valentino’s phone instantly shut off. Velvette, seeing this, clutched her phone tightly to her chest.

Val tried turning his phone back on, but it was unresponsive. “You broke my phone, Vox. You broke my fucking phone! What else are you gonna break if you go back in there?”

Vox frowned. Loath as he was to admit illness, it really was in his best interest to minimize property damage. Especially with a live audience.

“I’ll do the interview,” Velvette offered.

Vox gave a laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit, his screen a sputtering mess of static again. “No offense, Velvette, but I’m pretty sure you’re not familiar with the ins and outs of the system.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re not recognizing you don’t have a lot of options. Would you rather send Valentino?”

The other two recoiled at the suggestion. “God, no!” Vox replied. “Ugh, I guess if you really want to, go knock yourself out. My notes are on that tah… hhh… ahh… hah… hah’TDZZZCHT! Tablet.” Said tablet was now stuck in bluescreen. “Shit.” He rubbed his aching head, trying to think.

“Are the notes backed up like the rest of your files?” Vox nodded, not even trying to speak this time. “I can pull it up on my phone, then. I’ve got this. Backbone of the Vees, remember? You just stay here and get some rest,” she said, blowing a kiss as she left.

Velvette strutted out the door, taking with her the responsibility that had been keeping Vox together, and it was like a switch had been flipped. Vox immediately plopped himself down on the couch, limbs dangling limply. “Everything huuuurts, Val.”

“I know, Amorcito, that’s why I’m here.” He gently stroked Vox’s arm. “Now, is it really everything? Or can you be a bit more specific so I can actually help you?”

Vox’s mouth moved, but no words. A frown. A throat clearing sound. More mouth movement, still no words. A deeper frown. A self-inflicted smack on the side of the head. Still no words. The fans kicked into high gear as Vox was about to spit steam out of his head.

“Shh, gentle, Voxy. Let’s try not to blow out the power grid again, hm?” Val patted Vox’s screen. “I’ll get you something for your throat.” He searched through the fridge for some Gatorade. Electrolytes had to do something for an electric being, right? In the absence of any speech from Vox, the fans were even more noticeable. Better grab a cold compress from the freezer too, then. He placed the cold pack on Vox’s screen and handed him the bottle. Vox took a sip and shook his head. His voice still failing him, Vox made images appear on the screen. Val blinked, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

“Something wrong with the drink?” A nod. “Tastes bad?” Head shake. Val tried to think what could possibly be wrong with a drink. “Too liquidy?” Vox rolled his eyes. “Wrong color?” A facepalm. “Uh… too cold?” Vigorous nodding, and then a wince and a dizzy expression. “I got it. Just rest here, Vox. I’ll find you something.”

Val returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug of tea. Vox’s screen was dim and pale, the colors washed out. His weak fingers could barely grasp the handle of the mug. “Oh, Voxy, you poor thing,” Val said, his wings wrapping around Vox for support. The steam from the drink got into Vox’s vents and his screen started flickering. Val noticed immediately and set the mug on a nearby table, holding Vox through the buildup.

“Hhh… hhhh… hhh… hhht’dzchhht! Hhhh’zzzzch! Hhh’ZZZZZSHT! Htchh’RRRRGZZZZZZT! Ugh.” The demon clawed at his throat, then paused in realization. “Fucking hell that hurt!” He winced. “Talking hurts.” Still, better to have a functioning voice, he supposed. He gestured to the mug, and Valentino handed it to him. He took a sip, grimaced, and then finished the rest of the mug in one gulp. Val surveyed the room and realized that a few of the TV screens were out. “Let’s get you into bed, hm?” Vox raised an eyebrow. “Not like that! Unless you want to, of course…” he added, licking his lips. Vox shook his head, exhausted. Val led Vox to the bedroom, the TV clinging hard to the moth as he took a few shaky steps. Val paused, then nodded to himself. He hoisted Vox over his shoulder, ignoring the spluttering protests. “Amorcito, you can barely walk. Let me carry you for a bit.”

Vox huffed, and Val felt the static shock. “You could at least have the decency to carry me like your partner instead of, I don’t know, a corpse?”

Val chuckled. “Have you seen yourself, darling? You practically are a corpse at this point.” Still, he switched to bridal carry.

After what felt like an eternity, dragged out by Vox’s complaining that he was on death’s door, they finally reached the bed. Val laid Vox down and sat next to him. “Now then, does everything still hurt? What can I get you?”Vox’s lips moved silently, then rapidly into what Val assumed to be a string of curse words. Hard to tell without audio. Val sighed. “You really are feeling awful, aren’t you?” Vox nodded. Val stared at Vox for a while until the moth’s singular brain cell finally came up with an idea. He blew a puff of smoke in Vox’s face. Vox flinched, and his screen flickered rapidly. “Hhh… hih… hhhh’dzzzzzzcht! Hih’tzzzzsh! Hah’TZZZZZCHT! TZZZSH! Tzzzsch’TZZZZZST’dzTZZZZZSSHHT! What the fuck, Val?” He rubbed his throat. “Oh. Uh… thanks, I guess? I don’t know. That fucking sucked.”

“If you’d rather not repeat that, then I suggest you get your words out now before you lose your voice again.”

Vox scowled, but he knew it was a valid point. “I just… I’m sore all over. It’s not fair! What did I do to deserve this?” Val raised a finger. “Besides everything that got me into hell.” Val shrugged. “Ugh… my throat hurts, my head hurts, all my muscles ache, there’s this constant buzzing in the back of my head that won’t go away, everythig is blisterigly warmb whatever I try… oh for fugck’s sake, I get congestiod dnow too? Ughhhh…” He groaned and rolled over, faceplanting into the bed.

Val tutted sympathetically. “You never do anything half-assed, do you?” Vox nodded, dragging his screen across the blanket. “Vox, if you’re feeling so warm, why are you still wearing all those clothes?” A pause. Vox wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “There’s no image you need to keep up right now, Vox. Let’s get you comfortable.” Vox sat up and let Val get to work. The crumpled suit was set on a nearby chair. The sweater and shirt were pulled off and tossed to the same chair, Vox dropping his arms instantly the moment he no longer needed to put in the energy to keep them up. The shoes were removed and the pants taken off and folded up with care. As soon as it was done, Vox collapsed face down into the bed again, breathing heavily from the effort.

“You said you’re sore all over, would you like a massage, Amorcito?” A thumbs up. Val got up to find the massage bar. They’d found that using a more solid form helped avoid any accidents… they did NOT need a repeat of the time poor Vox got massage oil stuck in his vents. Val began massaging Vox’s arms, but paused when he felt Vox’s shoulders shudder.

“Hhhh’dzzzzzzchmp!” The sound was muffled into the bed. Vox slowly dragged himself up until he was facing Val. “Hit’chZZZZZZZCHT!” Sparks flew from Vox’s screen and landed on Val’s arm.

“Keep your sparks to yourself, Vox!” he said, wincing at the static shock. “Hmm… that might explain the electronics failures…”

“Sorry, Val.” He said, rubbing his screen. “Wasd’t expectig it to comb that fast.” He gave a long sniff. “Hhhhh’dZZZZZZT!” He pointed at the massage bar. “Can you put that away? I think the scent is too strong right now, my sensors must be acting up.”

Val switched to an unscented massage bar and resumed the massage. A few soft moans from Vox let Val know that his attempts were effective. Eventually the sound dropped off entirely, except for the occasional sneeze, which Val assumed meant the video demon’s voice had given out again. After a while, there was no sound at all except for congested breathing. Val gently turned Vox on his back, revealing closed eyes. Val breathed a sigh of relief. The man was much less exhausting when he was unconscious. Maybe now both of them could get some rest.

#my snezfic #snezbin hotel #srsly pls help me come up with a better title lmao #chapter 2 will have more of Velvette - a snippet of the interview and then some caretaking when she comes back after the interview #also I don’t care if it’s ooc to have Val be this caring you can pry caretaking tropes from my cold dead hands #man I love writing this tv demon there are so many fun things to play with

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