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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #clone^2 #like god can you imagine how scared he must've been? how afraid? he just wants his mom - only to realize he doesnt even matter to her #dpxdc au #danny fenton is not the ghost king #this poor kid man. no wonder he latched onto danny the moment he gave up on the league like a leech. he's a six year old kid man and #it doesnt matter how smart he is or how mature he acts. he still is six years old. he still needs that validation and affection from adults #or from people older than him. and his emotional needs were just not being met in the league.#cue the song “two” from sleeping at last - some of their songs are very clone^2 honestly.#'sweetheart you look a little tired. when did you last eat? come in and make yourself right at home. stay as long as you need.'#'tell me is something wrong? if something's wrong you can count on me'#'its okay if you can't find the words. let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders'#'like a force to be reckoned with. am i the ocean or a gentle kiss. i will love you with every single thing i have'#'like a tidal wave i'll make a mess. or calm waters if that serves you best'#'i will love you without any strings attached'#like just. just *imagine* being in damian's shoes during all of this. he's *six* you guys. i've worked with six year olds and they're #pretty independent but they're still six. they get excited when they see their parents and they get upset when an adult is angry with them.#they're still developing their motor skills. they're still developing everything else!

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fukcnoplease · 1 month

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Things always go wrong Pt2 :0

Pt1 Pt3 Pt4

Dani roused from her sleep to see forests rushing passed and the sun beginning to dip behind them. The world was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun and she basked in its beauty. This was why she loved traveling. The beauty, the freedom, the fun.

She turned to Danny to see none of those things. He was gaunt and rigid. Eyes pinned to the road in tense silence as they drove way too many miles over the speed limit.

“Did you die die?” Dani asked, poking his cheek. He felt clammy. That probably wasn't good. Dani didn't feel great either. Tired and saggy, like all her muscles had deflated.

Danny just grunted in response. That was VERY not good. No Danny banter meant Danny really HAD died.

“So is this a drive to heaven or to hell?” She asked. Danny snorted. That was a good sign.

“Gotham.” He grumbled. It sounded forced, like it hurt to say. Dani frowned.

“So hell it is. Why are we going there?” Danny remained silent and his face fell into a scowl. “You’re doing a pretty good Batman impression but that doesnt tell me why we are going to meet him.”

“We are not meeting batman. We are going to Jazz” Danny said.

“Ooh, better than batman!” Dani playfully punched her arms in the air and Danny winced. Dani noticed but didn’t comment as she went to grab his phone. It was cracked slightly and was full of messages and calls from Sam and Tucker. Notably, it didn't have any directions pulled up.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Danni asked. Danny moved for the first time, shifting uncomfortably.

“...No.” He muttered as he kept his eyes on the road. Dani rolled her eyes at him and started looking through his phone, she had learned his password ages ago and as much as he threatened to change it on her, he never did. Though that might have been more forgetfulness than endearment but Dani would interpret it as she wished.

“You are so bad at road trips.” She said as she connected his phone to the aux cord and pulled up directions to Gotham. They still had almost nine hours to drive and the sun was only getting lower. “There is a rest stop about an hour from here. We can rest there for the night.”

Danny didn't look too pleased at the idea but he knew they didn't have any money for a motel and he couldn't drive the entire night. He didn't want to stop driving so soon though. Moving helped dull the pain.

“Are there any further rest stops?”

“Hmm… Theres one about three hours from us?and then another at the six hour mark. We could stop there for lunch tomorrow.” Dani said. Danny grumbled but nodded. He didn't want to stop at all tomorrow. Stopping for the night felt like too much, let alone pausing midway through the drive tomorrow.

The rest of the drive was Dani playing music and chatting away. Chipping away at Danny’s panicked and suffering walls until he finally relaxed into their usual banter. She played eye-spy and when she got bored of that she played twenty questions. When Danny chose a water bear as his animal she gave up on that too. They devolved into silly arguments about how water bears shouldn't be allowed or how it wasn't fair that Dani kept picking things Danny couldn't see in eye-spy.

As the sky darkened and the car’s headlights came on they fell into an easy silence. Danny still hurt but it was better and Dani’s core was humming comfort at him which helped.

Dani was half asleep when they pulled into the rest stop. The lights still on but the cafes and restaurants, closed or closing. She woke up fully when Danny moved to look through the back seat. Shuffling through whatever he had thrown back there and forgotten about.

Gloves, a box of tissues, an empty tote bag and an old backpack he used before he bought a new one. It had a gum packet in it and a pen but nothing else. Groaning, he went and opened the trunk, a black scorch mark from where it had been hit earlier that day. He had camping gear for when he went stargazing. A tent, blankets, portable stove and a lighter, gas for the stove, a pocket knife, a mess kit. He was rummaging through when Dani popped up beside him.

“You got twenty dollars in your phone case.” She said and Danny jerked up hitting his head on the trunk door. He rubbed his head and whacked Dani’s shoulder while she laughed, he was smiling but he wouldn't admit it.

He grabbed his phone from the car and Dani closed the trunk, whistling at the damage.

“Who did that?” She asked, eyeing the marks on the car.

“Some fruitloops after a kidnapped ghost.” Danny said.

“Kidnapped? Me? How awful.” She said, putting her hand up and pretending to swoon.

“You’re right. The poor kidnappers.” Danny laughed and Dani rolled her eyes. She punched him in the side playfully and he hissed in pain.

They both paused and Dani poked his side and he winced.

“Are you ok?” She asked. He hasn't seemed that injured when he was driving.

“Yeah, just a bit tender.” Danny joked. Dani stared at him, waiting for a better answer than that and Danny sighed. “Leaving Amity was harder than I thought it would be.” Dani still didn't really understand but Danny looked like he would rather be sick than answer her and she really didn't want him to be sick in front of her.

“Do you want to get food?” she asked and Danny gave her a thankful smile before nodding.

They grabbed a snack each, bbq chips and oreos, and a bottle of water to share. Dani nicked a portable charger and some jerky while Danny was in the bathroom and then they headed back out to the door. When they were back in the car Dani pulled out the portable charger and plugged in Danny’s phone.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing it incredulously. It definitely didn't look under twelve dollars and thats all they had left after the snacks.

“Same place we got the rest of this stuff.” She said dropping the rest of the snacks and jerky between them. Danny noted the extra snack but just rolled his eyes. They ate but Danny kept the jerky for the next day and then he pulled out the blankets from his trunk.

Snuggled up, with their cores harmonizing, they fell asleep.

The car shook and a bang followed by the crunching and scraping of metal woke them up. Danny shot up, the sky just starting to lighten, face meeting with the barrel of an anti-ecto gun. He lunged to the side. The headrest of his seat was evaporated and Dani sent out her own ecto blast. The attacker was forced back into the white van that was ramming them and they could hear some colourful words through their panic. Danny jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine roaring to life. Shrieking metal filled their ears as the forced the vehicles apart and booked it out of the parking lot. The road bumps sending pieces of glass flying as Danny realized his window had been smashed during the attack. The back seat window seemed cracked but still intact and the windscreen had a spider web fracture but was holding up. His core shuddered at the damage but the pain was overridden by the need to protect Dani.

He glanced over and saw a very shellshocked young ghost shaking in the passenger seat. She probably used too much ectoplasm in that blast. Neither of them were recovered enough and even with harmonizing he wasn't sure they would be able to recover enough to take another attack. He shook his head and focused on driving.

It took some maneuvers and some, maybe a lot, of speeding to lose the GIW but they managed. Dani pulled up directions and turned on whatever music she could find.

They spent the next few hours staring out their respective windows. Dani didn't like it. She didn't like the silence or the stress or the way her body shook in fear and exhaustion. Road Trips were supposed to be fun.

Danny didn't speak. His core was barely humming, barely responding to her, as they drove. It wasn't until the low gas symbol popped up on the dash that he said anything and of course it was just another curse. Dani was getting fed up with Danny’s shrinking vocabulary.

She didn't say anything as she added a new stop to the directions, the closest gas station. Maybe a part of her was hoping her grumpiness would get Danny to snap out of whatever grump he was experiencing. Probably not a reasonable or healthy way to handle the situation, if you asked someone like Jazz, but Dani didn't ask Jazz.

Danny didn't seem to notice though. He pulled into the gas station and turned off the car. His core buzzing with panic as he set up the gas pump and slumped against the car with a groan of pain. Dani frowned and poked her head out of the car. He looked pale, too pale. They were in their human forms, he shouldn't be that pale. At least she didn't think so. Though maybe she wasn't an expert on normal human medicine.

The gas pump beeped and Danny dragged himself up to remove the pump and go into the gas station. Dani suddenly worried about how they would pay, they had filled the tank up to full and that couldn't be cheap.

Danny stumbled and fell into someone by the gas station entrance, a big guy with tattoos in a tank top, jeans and were those cowboy boots? Danny apologized and the guy shoved him, making him stumble again. Dani almost flew out of the car at him before she noticed a flash of dark leather in Danny’s hand.

No way.

The big tough guy waved him off and went back to smoking as Danny went inside and paid with a wallet he had most definitely not had five minutes ago. Danni stared at her basically brother, slacked jawed, as he casually dropped the wallet back into the guys pocket with some intangibility and then hurriedly slipped back into the car. His face was hard and he glared forward as he started the car.

“Did you just-?” Dani started, her excitement at her brother's newfound skills making her bounce in her seat.

“No. Dont. Talk about it.” He cut her off, jaw set. She stilled in her seat and went back to pouting. When she vibrated her core at him he didn't even respond. She felt her core freeze at the lack of reaction and she tried again. There was a thump of something and Danny grunted but that was it. That was all that she got. Dread curled in her stomach as she stared at the road in front of her.

They drove on and Dani didn't even mention the second rest stop they were supposed to stop at and Danny didn't either. There wasn't even music and the silence was only occasionally broken by a pained breath from Danny or an attempted hum from Dani’s core. It was a painful drive and Dani tried to sleep to help time passed. It worked partially, she slept fitfully for about twenty minutes each rest but it helped her heal. By the time they had found themselves in the midmorning traffic into Gotham she was feeling much more herself.

Danny looked worse and his arm trembled from being kept in a tense position for so long. A thin sheen of sweat covered him and Dani opened to her mouth to say something only to slam it shut at the waves of panic suddenly rolling off Danny.

The car had rolled to a stop as the traffic came to a standstill. Thankfully they were in the slowest lane and there was a hard shoulder on their right but it did little to comfort Danny’s mounting panic. He didn't want to stay still, he couldn't, they were in danger and needed to keep moving.

“Hey, are you-” Dani was interrupted by an explosion. They both spun to see billows of smoke about twenty cars back and a familiar white van barreling down the hard shoulder. Danny sucked in a breath of air and hit the gas as he swerved into the hard shoulder himself. He pressed on the gas as they went, coming up on a motorcycle attempting to skip traffic. Dani reached over Danny’s shaking arms and slammed on the horn as they gained on the man in red. He glanced back and barely managed to crash out of the way before they ran him down. As they zoomed passed the poor guy Dani looked out her window to give him an apologetic wave. His helmet was weirder when she saw it close up, less like a motorcycle helmet and more like a mask but for his whole head. She gave him a wave and he stared after them. The white van careening after them and obstructing her view.

Danny followed the hard shoulder until it turned to grass and he kept going. The grass turned into a ditch and he grit his teeth as he maneuvered his beloved car to keep going. Thankfully the car, even turned at an almost forty five degree angle still kept going, if only slower than he would have liked. The white van on the other hand, hit the ditch and flipped, crashing to a halt behind them. Dani watched people crawl out of the van and try to chase after them but even going slowly their car was still faster. Though a lucky shot shattered the back window.

They pulled the car back into traffic, receiving honks and rude gestures before they went deeper into the murky city. It was only another few minutes of driving before Danny found an empty, unkempt parking lot to stop in. He shot out of the car and ripped the back seat door off its hinges trying to get the backpack he had back there. Dani grabbed his phone, the leftover cash, portable charger, and jerky before joining him behind the car as he stuffed his knife, lighter and a blanket into his bag. She offered her stuff and he opened the bag for her. As soon as everything was in he zipped it shut and went to pick Dani up.

“Woah! No! You’re not carrying me. I can walk just fine.” She said, glaring at Danny as he looked back at her. His eyes didn't seem totally focused and she grabbed his hand instead. “If you need to hold on to me so bad you can hold this. Now lets go.” And she was off, dragging a clearly not ok Danny behind her.

Did she know where she was going? No, but she would figure it out. Unlike Danny, she was used to finding places to sleep in unfriendly and unfamiliar cities. She could recognize safe places to stay. At least she was pretty sure she could.

Gonna try and figure out how to do the Pt1 Pt2 links I actually have like four chapters(?) written cause i got sucked in last night

#please forgive my grammar #danny phantom #he kinda out of commission #Dani-centric heehee #dani phantom #creative writing #batman #batfam #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #this might turn into a danny/tucker/sam polycule #for fun #dp x dc fanfic #fanfic #long post

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

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Danny at the tender age of 23, has had a bad month. He had just lost his job as an interpreter with his company due to rejecting the advances of one of the older female bosses and his landlord was trying to screw him over on rent.

It honestly surprised him when he woke up one day with his wrists bound in front of him and trapped in a tube. He had been out of the hero game since the portals closed up years ago and Vlad lost his powers, so it had been a while since the whole "kidnapping" thing had happened to him.

He looked out through the glass of the tube as he turned intangible to let the IV needles fall out of his arms. There luckly wasn't any glowing green goo in the tube with him, but he doubts it will stay that way long as the scientists outside his containment chatted happily about "the discovery of the decade!" Ick.

He waits till they're gone before turning intangible slipping out of his tube and heading straight for the computer. He knew how to hack, but he was low on time and needed to know exactly what was going on, so some ghostly meddling with electronics were necessary. Sorry Tuck.

It was at this moment he found out several things.

1. Danny had apparently been here for several months instead of the few days he had initially assumed

2. He was found somewhere in his own thermos, asleep. Luckily they haven't been able to replicate any technology from it.

3. Superheros were a very real thing now. How long had he been asleep?

4. He had been cloned. Again. But this time he had someone else's DNA mixed in with the clones to make them more stable and intelligent. Some guy named Red Robin. Huh. Was that his real name or...?

Danny took a deep breath before locating his new clone kids. Ellie would be thrilled...if she was still around that is. He could think about that later, right now he had to grab his babies-and oh ancients- they were babies! The oldest of the three looked four years old at most and the youngest looked only a few hours. He was still all pink and alien looking.

Luckily his children didn't fight him when he picked them up and flew through the walls with them. He made a mental note to teach them stranger danger when he came across a large red button.

You won't believe what it was labeled as. Yep. A self destruct button. How cliché. Whatever. He pushed it and sirens immediately started to go off and he continued flying them through walls before exited into a dark gothic city he knew Sam would immediately love.

Somehow he managed to immediately land a job as a linguist for Wayne tech. Probably thanks to the three small kids he had and the panicked look on his face. Bruce was a really chill dude.

Batman however, was a prick. He met the guy weeks after his run in with Bruce and he kept popping up after he found out the clone babies were partially from one of his birds and trying to take custody away from him or convince him to give them up. Danny retaliated by spreading the rumor/truth that his kids where Red Robins from creepy cloning scientists that kidnapped him before immediately moving out of Gotham and into Fawcett City to work for a competitors company. This way Red couldn't legally go after him for custody without revealing his identity :)

This is how Red Robin, at the tender age of 25, learned he had kids with a man named Daniel Nightengale. Not only that, Bruce knew about them and didn't tell him.

Danny made it clear that if any of the Gotham Rouges tried to follow him and harm his kids they would come back missing a hand. Joker found out the hard way that he wasn't bluffing.

Shazams old guy mentor almost has an aneurysm when he senses the freaking GHOST KING living in Fawcett. Danny is also much more powerful then ever before and accidentally made the power go out in half the city when he got truly angry with Batman.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #time drake #red robin #poor tim #the nightengale idea wasnt mine #but i love it and believe it should be the fentons go to for identity problems #tim wants to meet his kids #danny is superdad #ever listened to Mr. mom?#danny is the mom from that song and i fully support him #the batfam all lose thier minds #shazam doesnt know what to think of danny #danny is worlds best dad #long post

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mokulule · 6 months

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 9

First|Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst, depression, canon typical violence.

Jason was not angry he was frustrated. There was a difference. A distinct difference that Jason knew very well.

Ghost kept running. He would steal a thing. Evade some goons, cause he often stole from the rogues. Then evade some bats, lead them in a new direction, sometimes changing overall direction mid chase, there really was no rhyme or reason to it.

And then, when Jason showed up, he’d invariably be standing on another rooftop and disappear. All the while Jason could feel his longing and sorrow, a call for help he wouldn't let Jason answer, and it was frustrating and confusing, but mostly frustrating.

Because Jason was not angry.

He may have snapped at Dick, when he made a joke about his princess being in another castle, but he hadn’t actually laid hands on anyone. He made sure nobody made the mistake of touching him.

He ducked his head, never stuck around and ignored the looks he got. Worry, pity, wariness, Jason flip-flopped how he interpreted the gazes. A loose canon, that’s what they thought he was. But Jason was not. His chest burned, but Jason was not angry. Because he knew the difference, between himself and the pits. He knew. But they didn’t. They didn’t understand and Jason could not explain - not without him sounding unstable. There was no way he could explain things and keep cool. They wouldn’t understand that he kept away for their sake. At best he’d be benched.

Benched, a bitter voice mocked, locked up and thrown in Arkham more like. Criminal, murderer, crazy.

He shook his head. Pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t allow himself to be benched. He needed to catch Ghost - to make him listen and explain just for a moment so he could understand what was going on with him and the pits.

As long as Jason didn’t cross the line, they wouldn’t try anything. He had to believe that.

Oo o oO

Bruce was at a loss.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Jason hadn’t pointed a gun at any of them, Bruce would have thought they’d gone a year or two back in time. He was tense and curt and kept himself at a distance. Always out of reach.

It wasn’t like he joined their patrols regularly normally, but he could usually be counted on if something big was going down. Now Bruce wasn’t so sure he’d want to ask him if something happened. It seemed like he was nearing breaking point and Bruce feared what way he’d fall.

The thief, Ghost, was at the center of this. Something was going on there, but it was like he was missing crucial information. Jason was downright frantic to catch him.

Danny Fenton. The name was still a dead end. The DNA sample useless. His contact at Star Lab had gotten back to him and informed him they’d had a break in weeks ago, before the thefts started in Gotham - nothing had been stolen, the invisible perpetrator had been found out because of the electromagnetic disturbance his stealth tech gave off, or rather that was what their reports said. The recorded disturbance matched the readings they got off of the Ghost.

It was quite possible there were many more unrecorded thefts before the Ghost came to Gotham. He’d already informed Tim and watched him pale from the realization that they actually had no idea how far the Ghost was with what he was building. If building something was indeed what he was doing with the eclectic mix of parts he’d stolen. Tim had a theory, that much was obvious, but he was not at a point where he felt he had enough evidence to share it.

When Bruce had told him of the Star Lab incident, he’d glanced towards where they’d stored the spectral calibrator, before his shoulders had forcefully relaxed.

Bruce was no slouch when it came to technology, but mostly when it came to operating it. He could infiltrate systems and extract information fine, but it he was honest, the kids were better, and since he rarely worked alone these days, he didn’t get as much practice - he wondered momentarily if this is what it was like growing old.

It was something he’d never expected when he set out on his mission as a young man, growing old that is.

Besides while Bruce had designed a fair few gadgets in his time, and assembled the Bat computer himself back in the early days when it didn’t have near the capabilities it did today, he was not an inventor. Lucius was the one who’d made his more fanciful ideas workable in the early days.

And now he had all these talented kids.

It didn’t matter most of them were adults, they’d always be kids to him. Here he went again getting distracted.

He rubbed his forehead. Point was, Bruce couldn’t see what the parts could be used for but Tim could. And it was something that worried him, which in turn worried Bruce and like always these days his thoughts circled back to his worry for Jason.

He’d given him time, like Dick had said - three weeks so far in fact. And instead of things calming down they’d become worse. The Ghost’s continued escape was winding Jason up, there were no two ways about it. They needed to capture him.

Bruce had to be honest with himself, if it wasn’t for Jason, the Ghost would be very low priority for them. He wasn’t hurting anyone, just a thief. Before the day Jason had tackled the Ghost on the rooftop, he had been low priority. Amusing in fact, with the way he riled up Damian with his continued escapes, it had been low stakes - safe in a way many of their missions weren’t.

But now, Tim was working frantically on ways to capture the Ghost, they’d tried nets of various materials (some even Martians had trouble phasing through) with no success. Barbara was still trying to unearth more information from the phone, also with no success.

Steph and Cass had been steadily and stealthily working on changing the cameras throughout the city connected to Barbara’s network to ones with better filters and built in detectors for electromagnetic disturbances over a certain threshold - a very bothersome process since most of the cameras technically weren’t theirs and had to be indistinguishable from the originals and send visuals to the real owners of the same (low) quality they’re used to in case somebody decided to take a closer look.

Damian was giving him long looks, when he thought he wasn’t noticing. He was hiding something and he’d been sneaking off on his own. Bruce was trying to convince himself to leave it alone. He’d nearly lost Damian in the past because he was too controlling.

Trust, it was something he was trying to practice but it irked at him not to know. What if he got in trouble? He had to forcibly remind himself, it was most likely that Damian was just sneaking off to some wild animal he was hiding and nursing back to health.

Duke had just gotten back from a three month exchange program abroad, he would have to be caught up to speed. Maybe his abilities would give them some additional insight.

Hopefully.

Oo o oO

Jason was not angry, he was livid. Ghost was on another rooftop. About to do his disappearing act, again again again.

“Come back here!” He yelled.

Fear not his own hit him in a sickly yellow haze. He gasped and struggled not to throw up. Ghost was gone again. Of course he was. His one chance and-

“Jason…” the words were quiet, barely audible, Bruce. Jason grit his teeth. Bruce was a fucking hypocrite saying his name in costume like that.

A step forward was heard, a purposefully made sound to announce his approach, and Jason spun.

“Don’t touch me!” His guns were pointed at Bruce. He stood frozen, the hand he’d no doubt been reaching toward Jason was pulled back. It served him right.

Jason didn’t trust him. He should shoot him, teach him not to get too close. He knew Batman’s armor, he knew the weak spots. It would be easy. A rubber bullet wouldn’t kill, but it would hurt.

Jason wanted him to hurt; like he hurt.

He wanted-

He couldn’t remember loading his guns tonight. The realization struck him like a splash of ice water. Rubber bullets or live ammunition?

He didn’t know!

He followed the aim of his still raised guns, pointed at his dad’s chest, the armor could only do so much at such a close distance.

Real bullets or rubber?

Jason took a step backwards in horrified realization. It didn’t matter. Not at this close range. Both would be lethal. He knew that. He knew guns. Why had that even been a question? Why was he still pointing his guns at Bruce?

A wounded sound escaped his throat and he turned and ran.

He’d crossed the line.

Poor Jay, huh? Can Danny keep escaping the bats? Will Jason be okay? Tim POV next time, we're in serious need of a plan here, come on Timmers.

I no longer tag people, please subscribe to the masterpost here to get notified when the story updates.

#Jason is catnip to Danny #dead on main #dp x dc #missed connections #we will eventually get to a Danny pov #the family drama is just taking up space

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wildbluesorbit · 5 months

Text

London || JTK

18+MDNI

Paring: asshole!Jakexreader(f)

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! I can’t even tell y’all how nervous I am; this is my first fic AND the first smut I’ve ever written. I’m a Third Eye Blind freak and just generally think this song is one of the sexiest songs in existence so naturally I knew I wanted to write this fic. Big big love and thank you’s for my editor @tommie-gvf. I loved writing this so much and didn’t think it could get any better until I saw everyone’s reactions.❤️‍🩹

I ask for your patience as I’m a beginner and am very open to criticism. Pretty please tell me what you think!

Summary || Jake has a lover that lives in London. He visits her every time he’s in town, but recently the simmering situationship has taken a toxic turn.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcohol consumption, party setting, toxic relationship, jealousy, over possession, verbal aggression, slight physical aggression, big angst, graphic sexual depictions

Kink Content || dom(m) and sub(f) shift, [semi] public sex, dirty talk; praise & [public] degradation, sadism, zelophilia, katoptronophilia, daddy kink, slight impact play, nipple play, dry humping, hand job, ejaculation(f), oral sex(f receiving), penetrational sex

Word Count || 8.3k+

*disclaimer - I have no idea how to write any European, reader’s origin is up for interpretation*

You continue to refresh your phone screen in hopes that it will load a new message or maybe even reveal a glitch.

“You know,” your best friend, Claire, aspires to tempt you back to reality, “that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we got here, right?”

A hum in acknowledgment of her bait is the only thing your split attention will allow as you proceed in refreshing your messages. Even going as far to restart your phone.

“He's kind of cute,” you return another hum as she sings further, “like really cute.”

“Go on then, have a go,” you try to push her self-assigned matchmaking duties back on her.

You have no choice but to be shoved back into the rumbustious surroundings of the overpopulated flat party as your phone is suddenly ripped from your hands. Claire raises it above her head not even bothering to investigate what might be holding you hostage. She is well aware of your antics.

“Please don’t tell me you're texting him again,” she lifts the device higher as you futilely lunge for it.

“He said he was coming,” you begin to gather a defense, “but I haven’t gotten a response since I sent the address… maybe hold my phone a bit higher?”

Claire lets out a monstrous groan of frustration and rolls her eyes, “You really are helpless!”

“I know,” you repine and give her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and hold two starving hands out in front of you.

Begrudgingly she gives in, slamming your phone against your awaiting palms. As soon as your phone is back in your possession you return to refreshing your messages, all in vain of course.

Whenever Jake was in London he always visited you, sometimes even flying you out to whatever part of Europe his show was in or just because he wanted to see you. A trail of one night stands that became ritual.

The nights always started out modest, the two of you innocently traipsing about parties and bars accompanied by his brothers. You would all share drinks and stories for hours, belly laughing until you were ceased by sore ribs, as if you had all been friends for decades.

Nevertheless without fail, as the drinks poured further so did Jake’s appetite for you. He'd always shadow you with some kind of seemingly harmless touch; a hand on the small of your back progressed into squeezing your knee and then thigh, to tugging you into him by the waist when he was made uncomfortable or wanted to share a secret amongst chaotic surroundings.

One by one, his brothers would slowly fade out; Sam first, then Danny, and Josh was always the last to let the party die, taking it with him when he went. From that point, the evenings between you and Jake would morph into a primitive and sensual burn. Teasing and tearing at each other until the two of you eventually spent the rest of your night curled around the other. Once again, darting back to your guarded bubble of shy soft intimacy; neither of you willing to accept it was different from anything else anyone made you feel. Time spent together was something the both of you always rushed through days for, memories neatly placed in a treasure chest of beloved keepsakes when it was over.

But lately, it was different. Something brittle and bitter had blossomed. Jake had gotten only bigger and busier. Sometimes, he’d pule about missing you so naturally you’d beg to see him. He’d send beautiful trinkets and fine clothing from whatever part of the world he was in that next week to ineffectively make up for his absence no token would ever emulate.

Though you are elated for him, you are also acutely aware of your need to move on in order to outrun the pining tidal wave that threatens to swallow you whole. You’d tried before, but no man was Jake. And seeing you with other men only spelled him into a envious fit. A sight that tormented you both, the other too afraid to cry out as nothing was ever set in stone.

So instead you’d go to war over some irrelative thing and he’d ultimately swear on his beloved he didn’t give a shit about you and when or if he’d see you again; only to gift you some pretty peace offering in amends to offset the vigorous cycle once again.

Like a vinyl record against the needle, the two of you are going round and round the same circle; different songs, same sonic. You know if the pattern continues, you are slowly headed towards the dead wax. You hope tonight will mend the broken pieces between you as he vowed he’d come to spoil you a few weeks ago.

“You need to cut him off,” Claire has stated her stance on the situationship brazenly before, “all he does is treat you like shit. He entertains you from a distance and keeps you waiting until he wants to get his dick wet.”

Having been through this debate with her many times, you only frown and exhale, “It's not like that and you know it.”

She mirrors your disapproval, “Isn’t it?”

Just as you are forming your rebuttal your phone buzzes in your hands; confiscating your ability to exist anywhere other than your screen. It might as well have looked like you were going to dial 9-9-9 the way you dementedly scramble to open your phone.

JAKE:

Hey, angel. Sorry, I got stuck at this dive with my brothers and now they don’t want to leave. I think we’re just going to spend the rest of the night here. Maybe I’ll catch you next time?

You had not been enjoying your time at this party. You had been ignoring your best friend. You had been ignoring cute flirty strangers. You had been exuberantly anticipating Jake’s company tonight for months. All to be left on read, pathetically pining for hours now; all so you could be stood up by the man.

Your chest bursts with flames of mortified resentment, fueled by his impudence. Irate does not even scratch the surface of how your heart pounds. Your blood is scalding, skin scorching.

Jake made you feel stupid yet again.

Your face must give you away before you can even get out a word of impertinence as you look up from the insolent text to see Claire smugly sipping her drink.

A knowing smirk spreads viral across her face, “He's not coming, is he?”

The last thing you want to do is tell her bitch ass she is right in your state of red. Instead, you offer her a question you know will sate her pride without feeding on your wounds.

A vengeful grin takes hold of you “Cute stranger checking me out, you mentioned?”

You have never seen her look so pleased with herself as she nods in the direction of a man at the end of the bar whose gaze you hold.

There is no way you are going to let this night go to waste. Not after Jake made such a desperate-looking fool out of you.

You decide if he is going to ignore you it's going to be his loss, not yours. You are not going to let him waste your time and you are definitely not going to let him take your fun.

You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.

He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.

He sets the three drinks down at your table pushing two glasses of what he claims to be screwdrivers towards Claire and yourself. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through an almost seemingly painful giant smile.

You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin Jake always wore, a sight you ache for.

You cordially engage in small talk with him, asking and answering the procedural “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, and “What do you like to do?”; fitting in the occasional desirous glances and seemingly innocent yet lingering touches when appropriate.

He is definitely funny, but not witty and satirical like Jake’s humor; undeniably intelligent, but not in the philosophical and existential sense like Jake.

You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.

He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”

Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response. This seems to oddly appease Hunter but you think nothing of it as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.

At first, the movements are modest, just an adventurous activity between acquaintances. But after a few songs, you feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any care if you tried.

You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?

As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.

Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.

You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.

A small part of you threatens to collapse under guilt as if you have been caught doing something wrong. But you find the majority of you seethes under a new tantalizing flame, devouring any clemency present.

Almost drunk off of this new power dynamic, finally, you have the upper hand and Jake is the one squirming. Of course, you want Jake over this clown any day of the week but he had made you wait almost all night, he can definitely handle a few more minutes.

You spin, now facing towards Jake’s beaming acrimony from the bar, allowing him a full access view to you commandeering one of Hunter's hands connected to the small of your back and slowly guiding him down to your ass, the other to your waist. You press your backside against his pelvis and his hips follow, grinding in the motions of your own.

You stretch upward as high behind you as you can, sinking your fingers into Hunter’s thick black curls. Just to sell it, you showmanly lean your head back against Hunter’s shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his ear when he leans down into you.

You glance up at your petulant victim to see Jake roll his eyes and throw his head back in a deriding chuckle before he slams down the rest of his pint. Jake is most certainly under your spell.

You tell yourself that each song with Hunter is the last dance until you’re unsure how many have passed. Any concept of time you own is completely suspended in the delicious way Jake looks when he is hungry to devour what he can’t have, and in this moment it happens to be you.

Abruptly, you feel yourself being swept towards the nearest wall and your face being tilted up towards Hunter’s as he cranes his mouth down to meet yours.

It is nice. Pleasurable for sure. He is definitely a good kisser, but again all you can bring yourself to think of is Jake’s perfectly pink pouty lips pressed against yours.

There is no point in tormenting Jake if you are just as miserable.

As you are about to break away from the stale kiss, Hunter’s weight that is pinning you up against the wall unexpectedly falters, sending you fumbling to the floor. You attempt to regain your balance but the room is slightly spinning, a likely side effect from the alcohol in your bloodstream. You might have questioned it having only had a drink or two if your focus wasn’t currently employed by figuring your way back to vertical.

A hand makes its way into your line of sight, offering to help you up. You swat away the aid, recognizing it as Jake’s. He huffs and shakes his head vexed. Jake brings himself closer to the whirling stack of bones that you are on the floor and tenaciously claps his rangy hands around your waist; making a show to assign his fingers in the exact arrangement where Hunter’s had just been. He devoutly springs you to your feet as if you'd rehearsed the move. As soon as you gain your footing you step back from Jake and dust yourself off, despite landing on a clean floor.

You inspect your crumbs of clues; the boys glaring at each other and at the brink of verbal warfare. You arrive at the conclusion that a fuming Jake had let all restraint dissipate as he shoved Hunter off of you in his impulsive fit.

“Why don’t you go find some other victim to slam into a wall,” Jake snarls, “she’s had enough for tonight.”

“She didn’t seem to have a problem when she was dancing all over me,” Hunter shoots back genuinely confused, “are you supposed to be her boyfriend or something?”

You race to interject, “He is not,” addressing Hunter but then throw your finger in Jake’s face, “and you have no right-”

Hunter takes one big territorial step to cleat himself between you and your oppressor. An exasperated Jake scowls at your fictitious defender and back to you, his features melting into a sickened sight as if to ask if you are really going to allow him to be vilified as the threat.

Of course protection from Jake is the last thing you will ever need. He could say whatever he’d like but Jake will never lay a harmful finger to you.

However, the hunt makes the game. You subtly shrug at Jake and let the mens’ egos carry out your dirty work.

Hunter sets his fist on Jake’s sternum in an attempt to get him to step back, “Mate, she doesn’t seem to be into it so why don’t you give us some space.”

This is the trigger that detonates the antagonized man just in front of your human shield.

“Oh trust me, mate,” he mimics Hunter in an explosion, the shrapnel riding your blood to your cheeks, “when I say I happen to know what the little slut is into and it is definitely not-” Jake is cut off by a panicky Josh now stepping in between the two before Jake can say anything he can’t take back.

Josh seems to instruct his detesting brother through glances. You always find it hard to properly digest a situation with the appropriate amount of severity when the twins begin conversing with mere facial expressions.

It only lasts for a second or two before Jake refixes his glare towards Hunter. Mirroring Jake, Josh returns to Hunter with an antsy smile and places a friendly hand on his barely-reachable shoulder, as if he is about to deliver bad news.

“Sorry about him,” he starts to mediate, motioning towards his fuming twin he shrugs and chuckles nervously, “tequila makes him aggressive.”

You almost giggle at Josh’s flamboyant rescue. He is a detail oriented man who is verbally quick on his feet. He usually paints pictures you can not poke holes in. So you know he must be distraught or drunk as you hadn't even seen Jake drink an ounce of liquor since he arrived.

However, Hunter doesn’t seem quite as amused as he slaps Josh's hand off and grunts, “Whatever, I don’t do crazy exes anyway.”

He insincerely waves you off and facetiously blows Jake a kiss in one last satirical jab before sauntering off, dematerializing amongst the crowd.

Jake now recoils from Josh’s touch and waits for him to vanish as well. However, Josh’s sight seeks you and bears a disapproving nod, warning you to behave in a glower. For a split second, you forget he is a twin as his protective demeanor is all that of a vigilant elder sibling.

Nevertheless, Josh makes his way back to where he had been so unnecessarily interrupted and dragged away from Claire.

Your attention gravitates to Jake in daggers. Before you can form any thoughts or strategy, venom goes flying past your lips, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

Jake swivels his head around, slightly panicking at all the partygoers that had stopped party going to sightsee this freak show. He never likes to be the center of attention unless he has six strings and a fretboard under his fingers.

Nimbly, he leads you by the arm into the nearby bathroom and slams the door shut.

You throw your arms out in confusion, “Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

He fires back, “No, just my patience with you!”

The room is small enough now that his scent circulates and the offensive smell of beer and bourbon attacks your senses; which explains his uncharacteristic boldness.

“Shit, Jake, you smell like a fucking brewery,” you spit out.

He seems to grasp how sloppy he let himself get. Your words siphon a hint of sobriety as he takes a deep breath and now speaks to you with a much more repealed approach.

You can tell he is still upset but is focusing on his convictions for the moment, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to fall like that.” He hesitates, “And I’m sorry- I have no idea why I called you slut- I didn’t mean-”

You are nearly swept away by the sweet breeze of your angelic Jake; the one that trips over his words when he gets excited and loves to take on whimsical personas of his own invention. Jake that is present and kind, even at the end of the night. But just like a fleeting breeze, you easily withstand his charms.

He may have found his composure but you certainly did not, not that you want to, “I’m fine, Jacob! Want to explain whatever the shit that was?!”

Any remorse present in his tone abandons him, “Oh please, you wanted that! I could see it all over your face while you were messing with that prick. I don’t even know why I'm surprised. You’re like a child who throws a fucking fit. The moment I don't do or tell you exactly what you want you go throw yourself into the arms of some random no-good fuck. I knew you were with him as soon as you went radio silent.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You’re almost suspicious of the blank canvas he’s left for you to fill in with logic; he’s usually ten points ahead when debating, never speaking a vulnerable statement for someone to collapse before him. You are almost hesitant to ask the question.

Your hand finds your hip as a means to reinforce your interrogation, “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t own me, Jake! So what if I was dancing with Hunter?”

He rolls his eyes and growls at the mention of his name. If Jake were an ounce more theatrical you swear he would have gagged too.

You cross your arms and lean into the balls of your feet as you sharpen your questions, knowing you have him trapped, “If you knew, why did you even show up then? Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything?”

He blurts out way too quickly to disguise any aloofness, “I don’t care!”

Jake immediately throws his head back in defeat and groans, crumbling under further rumination of your questions, as if they frustrate him as much as they do you, “I don’t know! You just- It kills me to see you- sometimes- you make me so-”

He is struggling to articulate his thoughts without making himself look like the blatant asshole, but you see right through it.

You, however, have no problem spitting the word out. In fact, it progresses the igneous tension between the two of you into a delicious sweltering burn.

You dangle the word right in front of him just to watch him squirm, “Jealous?”

The accusation furrows his brow and tightens his shoulders.

If you didn’t know any better, his sudden dark tone would have you red with shame for such an accusation, “You think I’m jealous? Trust me, kitten, you haven’t even seen jealousy. Go fuck that guy for all I care.”

You giggle and raise a slanderous eyebrow, soundlessly challenging his overtly bogus defense. Your defiance vacillates Jake back to his munition.

He charges towards you, his footsteps following the alignment of his pointer finger swinging in your direction, “What the fuck are you smiling at- You know what?! Fuck this and fuck you! You always do this. Always getting me into more trouble than I bargain for.”

Jake is growling in fragments now, growing taller with every step he takes drawing in towards you, surrendering to your gravity.

“This isn’t me! I’m not this person who gets jealous and fights with strangers at a party,” he gestures his clenched fists towards you, arms length away now, “And I don’t like being angry with you!”

Jake corners you between the wall and a stall, yet his rushing commute ceases to falter, “And what’s worse is I actually think you enjoy this! You must get off on this! I think you want to see me lose my mind!”

Jake is close enough that you are now confronted by the moles that cradle his right jaw, the charming silver starting to streak from his temples, the sculpt in the cartilage of his prominent nose, and the slight uneven curl of his upper lip. Details no camera could capture and no screaming fan could ever have knowledge of; intimate details one would ever amass without his admission.

If he moves any closer he would have to kiss you. He scolded you for getting worked up off his anger when he was doing the exact same thing. The worst part being you aren’t even sure if he has caught on to this rage-driven gravitation between the two of you. His face reads “Caution, stay away,” but his body is imploring you to take care of him. He is right where you want him, giving you all the power once again.

He resumes waving his finger at you and stiffly pokes your collarbone. He opens his mouth to make another point but his words never deliver themselves. You see his very thoughts dematerialize as he touches your buzzing skin.

He doesn’t even lift his finger from you, just lets it fall to the start of your breasts, making your chest heave. He subconsciously presses his body to yours; so close you catch his erratic breaths on your lips.

You hastily retort while he is distracted, “That’s pretty amusing considering you're the asshole that ruined my night, not the other way around, slut.”

He rakes the pad of his finger still connected to you, up your clavicle till it rests at the top of your outermost prominent neck muscle, delicately wrapping the rest of his digits around your throat once he runs out of room. He sinks further into your orbit so that he is now hovering just above your features.

“Look at you, just begging for someone to put you in your place,” he rasps out, ever so slightly applying a teasing pressure to reduce your air flow.

Collecting yourself enough to stream your words out in a lazy river, you dare taunt the feral man that holds your next breath between his fingers, “Look at you, Jacob, absolutely rabid with jealousy.”

“I’ve had it with your little attitude,” his hand delectably contorts further around your throat in a fit of conniption as he roars through clenched teeth, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fucking drag me here to make me jealous.”

“Bite me, Jake,” you roll your eyes at his arrogance.

You expect him to snap at you, to reprimand you for your insubordination. However, to your surprise he laps one long stripe from the corner of your pout to the start of your cheekbone. The action expels your nerves into shock; a shudder slithers its way up your spine.

Jake sighs against the shell of your ear, “Is that why you’re being such a little fucking brat? You just want me to bite you, sweetheart? Is that it?”

Your only response is a whimper as a crackling heat awakes between your thighs and your hips grind into Jake on their own accord; giving him the only answer he needs.

Satiated by your feedback, Jake nearly moans at regaining the upper hand, “I swear- and why should I even care, kitten?”

You urgently squeal, struggling against your constricting airway, “Because it’s your fault! I’ve never craved attention until you did this to me!”

Cocking his head to the side to purport the appearance of a disapproving analysis, he mocks your need, “How did we end up like this, beautiful? We are absolutely no good for each other.”

You don’t bother devising a clever response, knowing he’s already decided to give you what you want.

He clenches his jaw and runs his tongue along the ridges of his teeth, twisting the pink muscle into the crevices of his molars, “It’s rude to stare, kitten. Do I need to teach you how to use that pretty smart mouth of yours?”

You only bat your eyes at him, your expressionless face waiting for what you know comes next.

He raises an eyebrow at you, impatient for some response and mutters, “Say something.”

A shit-eating grin sneaks its way onto your face, “Don’t forget to lock the door, babyboy.”

Jake’s once kind eyes grow dark to an absolutely immoral shade of lust. Heedlessly, his lips crash against yours, the sensation you’ve fantasized about since the last time his mouth deserted yours. He tastes of bourbon and peaches.

He slips his hands around your ass and hauls you up to straddle his waist. You wrap your legs around him as he staggers towards the door lock as you instructed, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you long enough to complete the task first.

Jake places you on the sink and protestingly pries himself back from you, as if starving for more but looking at you was a vital duty he must perform.

His eyes plot you up and down, infatuated with this strand of you, reserved only for him. You don’t have to say a word for Jake to know what happens when he’s away; the way you move for him confesses everything he is already aware of. He is the only one capable of having you completely and utterly vulnerable and unguarded and unadulterated; animalistically yourself.

For the first time tonight, Jake’s pretty pout draws back in a genuine smile for you; a giddy fool and his favorite fix.

He gracefully reaches to untie your wrap blouse and it falls to your sides, uncurtaining your heaving breasts. He hums in satisfaction of your physique.

Jake lightly places his hands on your knees and observes as his fingers featherly dance upon your thighs, only to stop and squeeze into the thick of them until he leaves white imprints. He curls into you, Jake’s perpetually exposed chest rubbing against your newly bare nipples, extracting a hiss from you.

Your core already weeps with need.

The hungry man burrows his face into your neck but stops right before his lips meet your skin, knowing you desperately need his mouth.

He teases you with a tickling whisper, “Fuck- I missed you. They don’t make girls like you in Nashville.”

The ribbing huff of his breath makes you shudder.

You press your hand against his hip, slide it down the curve of his thigh and inward till you map out his hard length through his pants, “I can see, you poor thing.”

Your movement draws a low growl from him in your ear, “Fuck- You see what you do to me, kitten? You see all the problems you cause me?”

You begin to palm him through his clothes and feign out a bratty whine, “Yes, but we always have such a good time, don’t we Jakey?”

Jake begins to eat at your neck while you continue to caress him until he moves down and out of your reach.

He plots out your clavicle, licking down your sternum through the valley of your peaking breasts; delaying his journey to lap one of your nipples into his warm salacious mouth as he gropes the other in his lanky hand. A few mumbled swears fall from you as Jake begins to venture in biting and sucking marks into the supple flesh of your breasts, soothing each spot with candied kisses afterwards.

“Shit- just when I thought these perfect tits couldn’t get any prettier. An absolutely breathtaking sight with my bitemarks,” he pants.

Jake’s mouth resumes its migration south to your goosebump ridden thighs. He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass, resting his elbows against the corners of the sink for balance as he lowers the rest of his body to accommodate the angle of your glistening center.

His mouth now takes purchase of where his fingertips had just deserted your thighs, kissing away the residual sting; closer and closer to your entrance till his head vanishes, canopied in between your skirt and legs. You feel the heat of his huffing through the lace of your panties. The sensation alone is enough to make you whine with need. Jake then bites into the material of your damp thong, sampling your arousal as he tugs your underwear to the side using his teeth. Jake plants his lips to yours in a row of delicate kisses, making you quiver with anticipation.

“Wider,” he growls out the demand.

You lean back to let your bare shoulder blades rest against the ice cold mirror behind you in order to grant him better access to your wetness. Jake is entranced as he gapes at how the chill glass spells you to hiss and clench around nothing.

He takes a deep inhale of you and slots the tip of his nose against your entrance. In one agonizingly slow movement he reclines his head so that his nose flits over your aching clit as he sticks out the flat of his tongue to follow the lewd trail.

You open your mouth to sing his praises but all that comes out is his name in a hiccuping squeak.

He then wraps his ample lips around your throbbing clit and nimbly sucks it into the warm plush of his mouth, swirling his velvety tongue around your bud.

The deed elicits a piteous wail to escape you and the confiscation of any remaining control over your restless limbs. Your hips involuntarily swing forward, seeking more of his mouth.

He rewards you with a swift smack against your thigh, “Easy,” he begins to plant light kisses on your entrance, “needy little thing today, aren’t you?”

Having not fully removed his mouth from you, the vibrations of his teasing words sends unexpected ripples of titillation humming through you, instigating your reeling squirms further, “Relax, kitten. I know how to take care of you. I know what you need.”

He finally unlatches his other hand from your ass. You hadn’t even registered the delicious sting of his fingers over the imperious pleasure of his mouth; a pain promising to blossom into pretty hues of purples, blues, and greens.

He delineates the curve of your thigh with his fingertips, finally fluttering over your entrance. Impatiently, he hikes your skirt up to bunch at your waist. He savagely yanks your lace underwear down and over your ankles, not even bothering to wait for you to adjust to help slip the material off. He looks to you with a seemingly innocent goofy grin as he pockets his newly pillaged treasure.

You roll your eyes and press your lips together to stifle your obvious giggle. In a feigned offense, Jake snatches your ankles in his grasp to reestablish his authority and your attention. Slowly, he lifts your legs to settle your thighs around his shoulders, careful not to throw off your balance on the porcelain counter.

You lock your ankles around him as his hands pet up your legs and wrap around your thighs to bore into your flesh. Jake reintroduces his mouth to your soaking entrance, sloppily devouring your nectar.

Though pleasing, you know he is holding out on you. Jake loves to hear you beg; for you to pray for what you know he can’t help but give you.

“Jake, more,” you demand despite knowing it will land void.

He immediately ceases his feed and arrogantly reminds you of your place, “Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders now, are you kitten?”

Mourning the loss of his mouth, you choke on a sob, “No, Jake!”

He tenderly begins to brush his digits along your skin, “That’s right, but I happen to know that pretty mouth sings a lot lovelier than she barks.”

He moves one of his thumbs to circle over your swollen clit as incentive, making his compulsion undeniable.

You desperately pant out your pleas, “Please- Shit- Please, Jake. I need- Jake- Fuck- fingers?”

“Sorry, baby, you’re not making any sense,” he terrorizes you now, stretching a free digit from your bud to tease your entrance.

You manage to piece together your needs enough to satisfy him, “Jake- please, I need your fingers- need them inside me- I need to soak them- please, baby?”

Your scandalous words draw a sweet moan from him. The vivacious grant of your request tells you he can’t stand to make you wait any longer.

He begins pumping his middle and ring finger inside you, making you mewl his name.

He once again envelopes your clit in his lips and begins to suck and lap you towards ecstasy. You feel the euphoric tension strain your abdomen as Jake curls his fingers around the spot he always seems to effortlessly discover.

“Fuck- Jake don’t stop- please- please don’t stop,” your voice reaches the high pitch only he brings it to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, you sound too pretty with my fingers inside you to deny,” he coos against your sensitive clit.

Jake’s lustful praises send you into an orgasmic haze as your walls squeeze around his fingers and back arches away from the mirror.

As he feels you getting close, Jake begins to coach you, “Relax for me, beautiful. Can you relax that pretty pussy for me?”

You inventory only enough coherency to wantonly moan, indicating your process of his demand.

“Good girl, that's it. Just breathe and take it,” his praises coerce you into obedience.

Even though every endorphin in your body is imploring you to writhe at Jake’s touch, you do your best to relax and breathe as he ordered. You relent to Jake’s fingers, allowing him to caress into a new spot, a fresh wave of sensitivity finding you.

He knows he’s found the place as soon as you squeal his name in response. He begins to violently fuck deep into you with his hand, pumping in and out of you, his fingertips catching his new target every time, catapulting you into your orgasm. You're consumed by white heat as you soar through your ecstasy.

You’ve cleared through your orgasm yet oddly the tension in your abdomen is not alleviated but is now twice as constricting.

Jake never ceases to send his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace and the pressure that builds is of a different class, requiring your whole body to participate in your release. Where he was once babying his mark, he is now assaulting it; his digits curling into you with every pump. The sloppy sounds of Jake finger fucking you grows louder with every stroke.

His lips swallow your clit, slurping you into his mouth for safekeeping, sending you into overdrive as you approach this new release. Your pussy begins to convulse and contract around Jake but he drives into you faster still.

“That’s it, babygirl, cum for me. I’ve missed having you on my tongue,” his words barely make their way into your consciousness.

Your vision begins to black out as your eyes roll back and your slick sprays his face and coats his hands.

Yet, Jake refuses to cease his assault. Your climax builds within you so tight, it rips its way out of you. Your cunt expels a deluge of liquids and continues to pour into Jake’s hand with every dizzying clench of your cunt. Again. Again. And again. Until you are downpour, trickling past his wrist and onto the tile floor.

“Fucking shit- Jacob- don’t stop- I can’t- I’m still cumming- Ja- Baby- Jacob,” your voice melodically crashes and breaks against waves of rasping screams and swearing whimpers louder still, floating off somewhere in oblivion.

Jake thinks it's the most beautiful you’ve ever sounded. Your body finally gives, and you collapse back against the mirror behind the sink. After a few seconds you peek your eyes open to see the mess you made.

He pulls away from you to stand once again and observes his glistening hand in a gaping awe, unphased by your cum dripping down his chin.

“I love when you do that,” he mutters more to himself than you as he slurps your elixir from his own limb.

He isn’t even touching you but the pornagraphic sight reels a moan from you.

“Does my beautiful girl want a taste of her own orgasm?”

He places his fingers along your lips, waiting for your consent. You stick your tongue out and he slides his digits up along the textured muscle until you stifle a slight gag; the veins that decorate his knuckles pressing into your top lip.

He pulls your mouth closer to his with his fingers, slipping them out just before he slides his tongue between your lips; you further taste your glaze as he licks into your mouth.

He impatiently pulls away from you with a hungry groan and scatters to undo his belt. His pants fall to his ankles, his normally hidden curves now visible; a delectable sight you will never grow tired of. His physique is appetizingly curvier than most men and the very view made your dripping pussy flutter without remedy.

Jake catches your ravenous stare and arrogantly quips, “See something you like, kitten?”

Rather than respond, you greedily grab at him and slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You tug him closer along with the material and shimmy it down to liberate his hard painfully pink penis.

“I missed you too,” you run a finger over his leaking tip, causing his head to roll back in a hiss, “and this pretty cock.”

In one swift movement, you quickly gather your remaining arousal on his face in your free hand and reach down to slather his throbbing dick. You lay messy open mouth kisses along his jaw and neck as you now lightly pump him in your hand.

“Fuck- you’re so hot,” Jake rasps out at the loss of composure; his mouth slacks agape as you continue to jerk him off.

You move your hand to flick at his head and his features further melt in bliss.

“Slow down,” he whimpers, ”I want to be dripping down your thighs, not your hand,” his statement demands your submission.

You can tell Jake is unraveling fast as he starts twitching in your fingers. He is close until he obstinately pulls you away from him by the wrist.

You pout out an apology and he relocates your hands around his shoulders, and grabs your waist as he paints your cheek with open mouth kisses. His tongue works a long stripe behind your ear and sucks your lobe into his mouth.

He speaks through teeth clenched around your cartilage, “You always misbehave like such a brat, but underneath it all my girl is just a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

His intimate words alone render you to a din of pitiful mutters and swears.

You feel him begin to press his hard cock into the thick of your thigh, involuntarily pursuing relief, “You just need someone who knows what you are, hmm? Knows what you need?”

You praise and beg as your center is reintroduced to that familiar ache, “Jake, please. You know what I need.”

The sensation of Jake grinding himself against your leg dissolves all restraint. You try to buck your hips towards him in search of what you want most, but he doesn’t let you succeed. Jake arrests your waist to push you further back onto the sink.

He snickers at your cupidity, “What a greedy little slut. Just came a fucking mess and you already want more.”

You stroke his ego with hopes flattery will seduce him, “Yes- I’m a glutton for you, please, Jake?”

You scoot back up to the edge of the sink and grab at him; mad for his touch. Instead, your ambition is requited with a stinging smack to your cunt as he bellows the command, “Sit still! I’m not going to tell you again.”

You can’t help the fearless groan that echoes throughout the small room.

He bitterly miffs, “Yea? Should have thought about that before you were fucking around with that shit for brains?”

“Jake, I’m sorry,” you gravel, growing more impatient by the second that you can’t feel him.

Your insincere words purchase you no spoils as he taunts you further, “Good- You have no idea. I wanted to break his fucking nose wide open! What was his name again, sweet thing?”

Before you can fashion any remark, he yanks you to teeter on the end of the countertop once again. Jake, shaft in hand, drives his throbbing tip just past your lips, and flicks himself against your sensitive clit.

Your knuckles grip white against the corners of the porcelain struggling to remain in place as you whimper gibberish, “Fuck- Jake- I- MMM- fuck-”

“Look at my good sweet girl, so cock drunk she can’t even remember the pawn she was using to make me jealous a few minutes ago,” he smugly croons.

He featherly runs his fingers through the tresses of your hair. As he smooths down your mane you cave into his touch.

“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” his words drip with scorn, “It killed me. You deserve better because you’re my good girl.”

Lining himself up to press into your labia, he docks his forehead against your clavicle to look down at his toying with you. Slightly arching forward, his pink head only just glides past your entrance.

You are teetering over the line of ditzy, Jake’s tantalizing quips being the only tether before you are too far gone, “What a filthy slut? Playing dirty to get Daddy’s attention?”

Any remaining composure flees from you as the name is growled against your skin and you immediately call it back to him, “Shit- I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, fuck me?!”

One hand still residing in your hair, he tugs by the root to guide your ear to his open mouth, “Well you’ve got my attention now, my sweet little fucked out thing.”

Without warning, Jake mercilessly thrusts himself inside you to the hilt. You slap your hand over your mouth to silence the obscene wails tearing through you.

Jake promptly rips your hand away, “Don’t you fucking dare. I want everyone to hear my little cock drunk slut sing.”

Without granting you an opportunity to adjust to his girth, he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to plunge himself all the way back in, driving into that magical spot.

Just as that illustrious need grows in your stomach, Jake pulls out completely. You don’t have the opportunity to protest before he gathers you from off the countertop and twists you around towards your reflection. He gingerly presses his touch into the protruding shape of your shoulder blade, lightly ushering you to lean over the slab of the counter. You surrender to Jake’s decree, not willing to risk your orgasm.

Jake finds your fucked out gaze through the mirror and faintly adjures, “I want you to watch as I fuck you.”

You know better than to mistake his lowly tone for submission. You lean your weight on your elbows as you settle against the sink and raise your head to take in every detail as Jake begins fuck into you from behind.

His pace starts off moderate, but every stroke pierces deep. Your eyes are spellbound by the vision of his pelvic bone slamming into your ass with every harsh swing of his hips.

You do your best to keep your eyes visible as his rhythm picks up, but inevitably your head hangs limp, dizzy from your approaching high. You resign from your efforts once he begins to rock into you faster, burying himself further in your cunt.

You are compensated by a half-lidded Jake forcing your head back up by your chin, “Nah-uh. Look at me, baby.”

You manage to anchor your head where Jake repositioned it, but you are helpless to the way your eyes roll back as he swivels his hips rutting into that sweet spot. Jake grants you exoneration as your walls tighten around his twitching cock, indicating you are close.

Your every muscle trembles as you are abraded by your final orgasm. You're too far gone in your trance. You babble a gibbered language of swears and crying moans as you give into the chemical release.

“Just one more for me, babygirl, you can take it,” he hushes you.

You are strung back from your trip by the stutter of Jake’s hips and hiccuping moans. He is close. You see him tire as he curls around you, his panting grunts tickling your skin.

“Come on, baby,” you root for him despite your own overstimulation, “fuck me full. Want it so bad.”

You are captivated by the reflection of his features contorting under bliss as he fights to keep his hips in motion. You roll your hips to follow Jake’s strokes as his high suspends his stamina.

His eyes roll back as he begins to convulse, his dick jerking inside you. He releases, his lewd moan of absolute venery graces your ears as he empties himself inside you, coating your pulsing walls.

Jake goes limp, briefly taking refuge against your backside as he catches his breath and you come down from your highs together. He lazily litters your skin with kisses wherever his lips can reach.

He sighs against your spine, “Fuck- you’re magnificent. Absolutely electric.”

He wills himself to stand vertical, tugging his pants back in place over his hips before he eases you upright. Assisting you with his steady grip on your pelvis, the steamy skin of his lithe chest sticks to your backside. He wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady as your knees buckle upon landing, pulling you into him once more. He bows his head to warrant his lips to lathe your neck, savoring the salt of your skin.

Far too consumed to break away from his sloppy kisses, he tilts his head as his eyes hunt for the reflection of yours, “But I meant what I said earlier, we’re no good for each other.”

He nibbles his way up and sucks at the muscle of your jaw, “I like you way more than I planned to but there’s no way we can continue like this, babygirl.”

You go numb; the only sensation present being pins and needles pricking your chest. His words spell you dumb, abolishing any sense to speak or move.

He delicately spins you to face him once again and tenderly kisses the tip of your nose.

Jakes slightly pulls back to skillfully tie your blouse back up for you, “Whatever this is, it's got to settle here.”

“Jake- you-,” you breathlessly chase for the tail of your thought that doesn’t seem to exist.

He squeezes your hands in his, “I mean it, kitten, don’t call me anymore. I won’t pick up for you.”

The tender manner in which his lips love on you does not mesh with his condemning words.

He draws back to see tears you aren’t aware are now rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He lets go of one of your hands to cup your jaw and kisses the salty sadness from your features, “Don’t cry, baby, you’re perfect.”

He envelopes your lips between his one last time before he brings your hand still in his grasp to place his pucker against your knuckles and whisper, “Please take care of yourself for me, babygirl.”

You are prisoner to paralyzation as those enticing amber eyes abandon you; rendering you to nothing but shattered forsaken ruins strewn across an empty bathroom, grasping and grappling to purchase any sort of rationale beyond the carnage.

You’re forced to silently choke on consternation at the sight of his chestnut waves bouncing against his shoulders as Jake weightlessly vanishes through the swinging door.

pretty please let me know what you think🫶🏼

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flamingpudding · 3 months

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Cassiopea and Orion #3

#1 #2

A/N: Finally got some time to continue working on this... to be honest this was pieced together through a bunch of different lunch break writings... sorry if that shows. Also @kizzer55555 totally love your addition on #2! Honestly I squealed when I read it! You were nearly spot on on what I had in mind to where I wanted to go with this story line. Tho I hope you don't mind that I took a bit of inspiration from you while writing some parts of this.

A/N2: Also you guys *sigh of fondness for the dpxdc fandom* originally I wasn't going to tag it just yet but I guess I will now, even if I have no experience writing it and only tried to sort of hint at it a bit for readers interpretations: Spirit Halloween 👻

Ellie frowned watching these people, still sitting on her spot on the railing. Once their initial excitement quieted down and the seriousness of the situation took over, she was left with nothing more to do than to watch the situation unfold before her. A part of her was surprised about the amount of information the big bad bee had on Danny. Some of which she thought was information that previously only Tucker, Sam and Jazz had. But apparently Ellie had been wrong.

Massively wrong by the amount of information she was seeing here. How long had Danny truly been in contact with this guy? There had to have been more than just the occasional phone calls she had caught him on. Did that mean this guy also knew about Dan? About the GIW? About the Infinite Realms? If he knew about all this why, why didn't he help sooner? Why hadn't Danny made contact with this guy sooner either? She did notice him pausing at certain points before continuing like nothing was happening. It didn't look like the onlookers minded, but to Ellie it was an indicator that big bad bee knew more.

She stayed silent the entire time, only muttering a correction ever now on then when she did note that the guy's information was outdated. Still something bothered her the entire time. Ellie didn't know what it was exactly, but the grim faces of the onlookers and the stoic nearly cold sounding explanation of big bad bee rubbed her wrong.

It was only at the end of it that she realize what it was exactly that had bothered her so much.

"What about family? Does she have anyone else left?" One of the onlookers asked and Ellie's head snapped up towards them. That sounded like... no, they weren't...

"According to her, Phantom lost his haunt. Including the code she gave to Robin, we can assume that there is no other safe place left. Unless..." Armored furry turned towards her, and Ellie stiffened only slightly as it appeared that they were finally going to address her again. "What is the status of Plasimus."

"You know about him too huh..." She muttered, not looking at any of them. "Castle is gone, whereabouts unknown, Mom was worried that he was one of the first after the first one of no contact, but that's not confirmed. Nothing turned up to indicate that."

Ellie didn't look up to see the reaction in regards to this information she shared but her head did snap up at the next words she heard. "And your brother?"

Wide eyed she stared at the man that had moved and was now before her, hands carefully placed on her shoulders as he bended down slightly to be on her eye level. Her mind was racing. He knew! This man knew about Dan. Distantly she heard one of the onlookers complain that in all the Infromation Bee had given them he had not mentioned about Ellie having a brother. She didn't react on that, instead searching that man's face despite it being half covered by a bat shaped cowl.

She wasn't sure what she was searching for but she wasn't finding it. Now she wished she had paid more attention to Grandma Pandoras lessons on Aura reading. Dan was in Far Frozen, put into stasis and protected and cared for by Frostbite and his tribe. The other ghosts were looking out for him too, they would do the same for her if she had a way into the Ghost Zone but both portals were gone and Danny, Wulf and Cujo were the only ones currently able to open portals. She wasn't even sure if they knew what Danny had done to protect her.

As her mind wandered Ellie did not realise that the people around her took her silence as some kind of answer. She did not realise how those she doubted onlookers shared grim and saddened looks. Nor how the man before her squeezed her shoulders ever so slightly as if afraid that she would brake any moment.

"Do not worry. You will be safe here with us." The armorer furry reassured her, drawing her attention back to the current moment. Suddenly her earlier suspicion came back to hit her in the face as her eyes once more widened.

"What do you mean?"

"We will take you in and you will be safe and won't have to fear them with us."

She was sure that was meant to sound reassuring but it wasn't. It made her stomach sink. With a moments use of intangibility she pushed away from the man floating backwards and putting more distance between her and these people. Danny gave her the code, told her to use it in a dire situation. That she would get help with that code. That they would help! This didn't sound like the help she wanted. She hadn't even gotten to explain the situation from her side. All they did was apparently assuming something all because of that stupid code Danny, her mom, gave her.

"What about mom?!" She didn't scream but by the faces she might as well could have. "The code was to get help! Mom needs to be rescued! Why are you acting like you won't! Danny promised I would get help when I use it!"

"Danielle." She halted and froze. That tone was stern and it was missing the gravel she had previously heard in that man's voice, it sounded the same way Danny or Auntie Jazz sounded when they needed for her to listen.

"Wait B! I don't think-"

"The code Danny gave you. It's his last resort code, personalised to you. It is one of our many codes we both came up with for our children. One only for situations we did not believe to come back from alive."

"W-what?"

"Aquila, Apus, Phoenix, Cygnus, Columba, Grus, Pavo and Corvus. Each of them has one specific Code personalised for the exact same situation you are in. I am sure Danny has mentioned them to you at least once." Ellie blinked finding a familiarity with these words but also frowned with the realisation that set in with that. Her eyes unintentionally wandered over to the onlookers, no birds, these codes belonged to. She couldn't really tell which belonged to who but she knew Danny must have come up with them as some sort of inside joke.

"B! You can't just-"

"But Mom..." Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

"I am sorry. But you will be save with us. I promised Danny that years ago."

She knew that her de-aged body was probably influencing her emotional state as she slowly floated back into reach. Before she could sit back onto the rail like she had done the entire time before she felt herself getting dragged to the side and suddenly warm arms encircled her. Ellie blinked confused until her brain caught up. The bird in blue was hugging her. The warmth felt comforting, just like when Danny, Jazz, Val or Sam hugged her and for a moment she let herself enjoy it. Dropping her guard just for a little bit to draw comfort from this warmth.

While Nightwing distracted the little girl in his arms, he made distinctive eye contact over her head with his siblings, before indicating his head towards Batman. Red Robin and Signal nodded before moving towards the man, Robin trailing behind them after he shared one more glance with him. His eyes turned towards Red Hood. The other wasn't even looking at any of them as he was already on his way stomping right out the cave, ignoring everyone around him. Nightwing was going to make sure to send any additional information they would get from Danielle his way later too. Black Bat and Spoiler stayed close to him.

It was moments like these that Nightwing really appreciated the silent understanding he and his siblings had among each other and if Batman was to much into his own head with these stupid codes and apparently already grieving. Then they would step up and if they could give the little girl in his arms the kind of help she had clearly hoped to get from them. It wasn't a promise of safety that the Danielle was looking for or even needed, rather she was hoping for people willing to help her rescue Phantom, her parental figure, her mother, her family, when she had no one else left.

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stealingyourbones · 11 months

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Submitted Prompts #98

Danny and Raven are both hybrid supernatural creatures. Which means, they end up meeting during a couple of pagan celebrations.

They get to talking, and realize they get along really well. So, since on Raven's side of things, she still hasn't met the Titans yet, Team Phantom just essentially adopt her. Sam adores her new goth friend. They help her feel normal, and she gives them precious advice on magic and how, sometimes, defeating an enemy comes at the cost of their life, because they might not give you much of a choice...

Soon, Raven meets the Titans, while Danny goes along his usual business of keeping Amity Park safe. They keep meeting up for celebrations, birthdays and random meetings for no reason other than a slightly feral sense of "I missed your presence at my side" they all have with each other.

The Titans are very curious on why she keeps disappearing every year at the exact same time, but all they know is the bare bones "magical meeting of magical entities that practice magic".

Until one day, when Raven almost tore Titans Tower apart while desperately trying ANYTHING to contact a friend who seemed to be "gone, and nothing can reach him. What did that idiot do?!?!?!" They are...justifiably concerned...and Robin smuggles the Batplane out of it's hangar so they can help their friend, who's always so composed, actually get to Amity with some backup in case things are going wrong.

Nothing would have prepared them for the SMOKING GODDAMN CRATER in the ground where a town should be. Raven can't reach past the Veil. The way seems to be blocked (since Amity, in the Ghost Zone, has the Ghost Shield up and running) and her powers are going a little wonky and unstable, random rocks lifting and orbiting her and the town limits as the Titans investigate as much as they can.

Until, with roaring thunder, Amity is thrown back into it's proper spot. But something's wrong. Phantom is easy to feel. He's always been a shimmering beacon in Raven's senses, but right now he feels...subdued, and yet swelling with new power...

It's not until Twam Phantom goes to meet her, that raven realizes what's wrong. She knows that Crown, and the Ring her friend is cradling in his hands. Ectoplasm is staining his hands, his suit, and, most noticeable, his teeth.

He looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here, and Sam goes in for a hug, and tells Raven they're calling a "Code Panda" (because pandas have a startlingly high chance of abandoning their Cubs before adulthood, and are generally idiots).

Robin volunteers to destroy the portal when they're ready to go, while the rest of the Titans start closing ranks around the seemingly traumatized teenage hero in case he needs help. The most he reacts is to let Raven float to him and hug him as he whispers a soft "Hey Ray...I had to follow your advice..."

(I imagine that Raven's own experiences would help Danny come to understand that, even if his Rogues can be reasoned with, there will eventually come a time where a new one might not. So they have to be prepared for that eventuality. So Danny treats Pariah's Core like one of those chewing gums with the liquid in the center of it, when he realizes the Old Tyrant King isn't going to go quietly, nor will he listen to reason. And hearing his parents talk about how Phanton would have to be exterminated soon before he "got too powerful" leads Danny and his friends to get out of Amity ASAP. Luckily, they have a friend who's very happy to have them around. Is this an "Everlasting Trio+the DC character they fell for" thing? Not necessarily, but my brain pictures them as starting to date while Raven got busy with the Titans, and when they're all together, they platonically drag Raven to their cuddle pile, where they romantically confess their shared feelings for her. But it's really up to interpretation of whoever reads it.)

#bones submissions #dpxdc #dc comics #dp x dc prompts #i just like the idea of a soft character dynamic that can be both platonic or romantic #but doesn't need to be either/or #it can just be a soft moment #i also have the same feeling when it comes to Tim-Kon-Bart-Cassie dynamics #are they dating? uh.....maybe?#but also not really? it depends on how you view romance?

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oliverreedmasterass · 2 months

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Innings Fest Recap

Gotta start with the elephant in the room: RUNWAY BLUES??? HUH???? In the middle of the Highway Tune jam session???

Also Josh made a side note about how it can also be called Runway Fever (which I don’t get)

Sam bonked himself in the face with his mic during The Falling Sky

Jake threw his head back so many times while playing that I lost count

Sam had a can of Topo Chico on his keyboard

Someone was waving around a pirate flag during Jake’s solos and, whoever that was, I love you

Danny was singing along to Highway Tune

I saw Jita???

It was a little bit strange - Danny was all set to go into his drum solo at the end of Safari Song, but it was really short so instead they did an extended opening to Black Smoke Rising while Josh changed into his second jumpsuit

The crowd sang almost the entire end of Light My Love for Josh while waving our arms back and forth

Josh was monologuing a bunch and Sam just started playing over him for Light My Love pfft

Josh was interacting with the fans a LOT and being a big goofball - he also took a fireball shot, threw it over his head, and Danny had to duck out of the way

Jake had MASSIVE hoops and SO MUCH eyeliner on!!

Runway Blues is worth mentioning twice

They had roses and a tambourine on stage but didn’t do anything with them :’(

Josh had a prolonged costume malfunction for his third jumpsuit

Josh said Bitchin’

Danny faked out Sam and Jake by pretending to play the last note of one of their songs, but then waited and stuck out his tongue at them when they played before him

I got up on the big screen while losing my mind to Black Smoke Rising??

Josh told us that it’s important for us to interpret their songs on our own without him telling us what to think, and then for the next song he introduced, he explained what it was about

I’m so sorry Sam lane, I wasn’t on his side so I didn’t see a whole lot of what was going on there 😭 Shoutout to the lovely family next to me who made sure I survived sitting in the Arizona sun for 7 hours straight waiting for GVF

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #Starcatcher #scwt #innings fest #innings festival

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good-griief · 11 months

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Time; Rejection

this is part one to my “time” fic series, i dont know how many parts there will be yet, but i hope yall like a bit of angst :)

warnings ambiguous relationship/feelings between abby and reader (for now), she/her reader, reference to torture (isaac’s questioning/rattlers), lasting effects of mentioned torture (later parts), morally grey reader, ambiguous/story-teller dependent interpretation of major past event between characters

part two part three

chapter one on ao3

When you split from your friends, it wasn’t the kindest goodbye. Salt Lake was fresh in your minds and to them, it felt like you were simply abandoning them by going to California after your long search together of where to go. They couldn’t understand why you’d want to go find fireflies after what happened— after what you heard about the hatred that was left for what you once were.

Abby was the most hurt by your decision. She didn’t speak to you after the moment you brought it up, and although her words weren’t anywhere near as cruel as the others’, they stung.

“Just know we’ll never see each other again,” she’d said, “‘cause as soon as I hear about any fireflies, I’m going the opposite fucking direction.”

And it was true. Four years had passed, and you hadn’t heard a word. You had no idea where they were. Whether or not they were okay. You didn’t even know if they were alive until you found yourself in Washington one winter month.

You’d been sent out on a mission and accidentally found yourself at the gate of someone’s Headquarters. Judging by the scenery; murals and graffiti, you only hoped it wasn’t the “Scars’”.

Their leader was harsh— brutal— in his questioning, and by the time he got the answers he was happy with, you could hardly speak. When he told you to head down to his medical station, you couldn’t even stand on your own.

You quickly grew a dislike for this group when you saw the rest of your squad was there as well, some even dead from the brutalization of their questioning.

Even when they took you to medical, they were all but kind. The grip on your arm, hands still tied behind your back, was bruising. They were tugging and pulling you when you could hardly keep up, making you trip over your own feet as they seemed irritated with you for even existing.

When you got to the medical room, you were shoved in. The force of it made you fall to the floor with no way to get yourself up, coughing until you spat up blood and heaved in a large breath.

“What the fuck, Danny?!” You could hear someone yell, presumably at the man who practically threw you when the rest of your comrades were sat down— not kindly either, but definitely not thrown.

“Trespassers. Thought they were Scars. Isaac had to deal with this one,” ‘Danny’ spoke, gesturing to you as one of the people there came to help you up. “She was difficult.”

The other person scoffed, but as you were helped up, you were momentarily dropped. One of your comrades said your name, telling you to “get up before they put you out of your misery.” That caused the person helping you to freeze, nearly dropping you back down before they got you onto your knees and wiped the blood from your face.

“No fucking way,” it was a girl’s voice, one you faintly recognized. You looked up at her, swallowing when you met her brown eyes. You looked over her, brown skin with faint beauty marks that you easily remembered the placement of. “Mel—“

“Nora?” You rasped out, your voice bringing the other medics’ attention— Mel’s attention. You couldn’t be sure it was the same Mel, but, by the way Nora said her name, you were almost certain.

“Oh my God,” was Mel’s reaction. You looked over at her, easily recognizing her from the mole on her chin despite her now chopped hair and hardly visible bump.

You were swiftly pulled into Nora’s arms, her eyes wide in shock as she hugged you to be sure you were real. You winced, quickly reminding the two of them why you were there and getting helped immediately.

“You know this bitch?!” Danny asked, scoffing as your hands were untied and your arm was slung over Nora’s shoulders.

“Fuck off,” she said, taking you to a separate room and leaving your squad with the other medics.

As you passed by your comrade getting treated, you were given a look that you knew meant you needed to get out of there as soon as possible or they’d leave you behind. You knew there wasn’t time.

When you were sat down in the room, Mel shut the door and said a code into her walkie while Nora treated your injuries. “I thought we’d never see you again,” she said as she stitched and bandaged, but you didn’t reply. “How did you get here? Did you know we were here?” Her questions ran on, but those stuck in your mind.

She said it as if she was excited to see you… Like you didn’t remember how both of them treated you before you left; telling you how they hoped to never see you again, how awful of a friend you were, they thought you were all family, the list went on. They were also the only ones to hug you when you left in the middle of the night, so you supposed their words came from hurt rather than malice.

You still remembered the night. You’d actually planned on staying with them and waiting to see what you found so you could stay together, but after Abby’s words at the mere idea you brought up, and the onslaught that followed from your friends, you waited until they were all asleep.

You quietly grabbed your things, sniffling and wiping your eyes, hoping not to wake anyone.

You left just as quietly, but that didn’t stop Mel and Nora from waking up, the two of them somehow knowing something was off.

“Don’t go,” was what made you pause and turn back as the two got up. “No one wants you to leave,” Nora said. “I mean, that’s why anyone said anything…” She trailed off, noticing your pursed lips. “We all want you to stay.”

“I don’t think so,” was your response. “I’ll try and find you guys again, or something.” You shrugged.

“How can you be so flippant about this?” Mel asked, face red and voice restricted as if she was trying to hold herself together. “How long have you been thinking about, just, leaving?”

“It was just an idea… I thought we might all go together, but…” You shook your head. “I don’t want to leave you guys, but I don’t want to stay either. It’d be better if I didn’t, I think—”

“Please?” Mel pursed her lips, arms crossed as she hugged herself. “Just lie back down. We can talk in the morning, or something? I’m sure everyone was just surprised. Maybe, it can be an option? Just don’t go.” Nora placed a hand on her shoulder.

She’d been up all night already, having been stressing herself out for most of it while Nora lied with her and tried to comfort her. She knew you’d try and leave while they slept. She knew you hated confrontation, fighting, all of that. She knew you were hurt, too. She just knew. She knew you’d make a decision like this after the things everyone said in response to a simple idea. How couldn’t you? They were all cruel.

But they were also all hurt.

Mel shrugged off Nora’s hand, taking both of yours in hers. “You probably won’t even survive out there alone,” she said. “we’ll find something. Together. Just stay— even just a little longer. You can still go if you want to, just… just give it some time.”

Your eyes drifted to Abby, who you’d usually be sleeping by. That night, you’d spent by the fire despite her asking if you were coming to lie down by placing her hand on your shoulder as she passed you. The small gesture, even if she meant well, was so passive that it practically made you think she was just telling you to leave.

She was awake when you looked at her though, possibly having woken up from the conversation, a nightmare, or maybe she never slept.

Her expression was lame, eyes holding your gaze for a moment before she turned over and gave you her back.

That was the deciding factor, you’d come to after all these years. What really made you not listen to your friend, begging you to stay, was Abby’s dismissal. It was a blatant rejection. She wanted you gone now. You knew she did.

That was what led Mel to apologize for what she said, giving you a long hug before Nora did the same, not even bothering to try and change your mind when she knew there was no stopping you.

When the rest of the group woke up, they were shocked to see you gone. Even Abby, who woke in a jolt and felt next to her for you, thinking maybe what she remembered hearing as a goodbye last night wasn’t actually the case. Though, when she felt the space next to her empty, not even your blanket there, it proved to be true.

It caused a rift between the group, blame flying each and every way until it was finally mended with time.

If you’d only given them some time.

“Were you trying to find us?” The question brought you out of your dazed state as you remembered the night in vivid detail. You often did, the memory flashing before your eyes and being able to completely ruin your day in just seconds.

“If I knew you were here, I wouldn’t have come,” you said quietly, voice hoarse and lacking conviction.

“We thought you might’ve…” Mel stopped herself, suddenly recognizing the attempted hostility in your tone. “What?” She frowned.

“We said our goodbyes,” was your response, forcing yourself to be dismissive. “After that night, I didn’t expect to see you guys again.” You watched as Nora finished off the last of her stitches, pushing yourself to stand despite the nausea that came over you when you did. “And… even if I wanted to, why would I want to meet like this?”

She seemed shocked, though Nora wasn’t surprised. She still remembered everything that was said. How all of your friends suddenly flipped on you. She didn’t expect you to be the same as before, but she also didn’t expect blatant rejection.

When you looked at her, knowing she always had something to say, she shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“Yeah… You guys, too.” You went to leave, but Mel stopped you.

“Sit down.” She stepped in front of the door. “You’re not even cleared yet.”

“Mel. Come on,” Nora sighed. She had a feeling if Mel pressed you, you weren’t going to be receptive. Judging by your demeanor, she expected you to snap at her. “Just let her go.”

“Owen’s coming… He’d want to see you,” Mel tried but was met with a frown as you stepped around her. She sighed, glancing toward Nora before looking back at you. “Is this really how we’re leaving things?” You were quiet, lips pursed. “You’re not even going to tell us how you’ve been?”

“I’ve been… fine.” You shrugged, knowing she was right but also knowing you didn’t have time to talk. “I’m also a medic.” Mel nodded along, waiting for anything else as you turned to her again. “I’ve missed you guys.”

“Us, too,” Nora said quickly. As if she’d been waiting for an opportunity to say so. “Everyone… They all talk about you; miss you. Abby—“

“I, uh, heard something recently that reminded me of you,” you cut her off before she could mention her. “Tommy… Joel’s brother. Turns out he settled in Wyoming when he left. People were talking about it… Figured it’s been hard to get leads— if you’re even still looking.”

Nora scoffed. “You have no idea…”

“Then, I’m glad I got to tell you.” You gave a nod, heading for the door.

“Come with us,” Mel pushed herself to try again. “To Wyoming. As soon as Abby hears about it, we’ll be going. You deserve to see this through, too.”

You grasped the handle. “I trust you guys to do that.” You then opened the door, leaving the two to feel dismissed as you did.

Though, when you did open the door and walk to your waiting squad to leave, Owen was rushing in. He stopped at the sight of you, staring for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, words leaving him and making him shut his mouth again as you gave him a tight, practically unnoticeable smile. He stepped aside, letting you and your group pass without a word.

You realized why he stayed quiet when you exited the small building. Abby, Manny, Leah, Jordan, Nick… Mel had called them all with that code. What she expected… Some kind of reunion? You had no idea, and you couldn’t wait to find out even if you wanted to. You gave a passing glance, not even sure they all recognized you, but that was all as you walked with your group toward the exit, wishing you didn’t have to.

Abby nearly doubled back, but she stopped when Manny grabbed her arm. “That conversation won’t go how you want it to,” he warned. “Just let her go.”

How many times she’d heard that in reference to you, how many times she had to just accept that, only to see you walking past her without even a word just now made her so upset she felt sick. She couldn’t pinpoint why. She couldn’t even understand it herself. But she could feel her eyes stinging, her nose reddening as a sudden wave of nausea passed over her.

“You have to let her go,” she could remember Owen saying when he found Abby listening to an old tape recording you must’ve forgotten to take with you.

“I found this,” was her response, holding up an old photo of the two of you that you also left behind. She had a hard time believing that was an accident, though.

“Just let her go,” Leah said the morning they all woke up to you gone. Abby was insistent on tracking you, knowing you wouldn’t be far. “What if we find a body? What are we going to do then?”

“What the fuck, Leah?” Nora scoffed at her.

“I’m not the one that said anything to make her leave in the first place,” she bit back. “And now you wanna go find her? Go fuck yourselves.”

“Let her go,” Nora told her one day, having gone to Abby’s room and seen that old photo. The moment she did, that’s what she told her, and in response, Abby tossed one at her. She picked it up, surprised to see a picture of you, her, and Mel, apprenticing Abby’s dad in his greenhouse. “Where’d you get this?”

“Leah has a bunch.”

Despite everyone telling her to let you go, none of them wanted to. Somehow, they still couldn’t understand how you just left. Even if they told you to, they couldn’t grasp it. They’d all said horrible things to each other, time and time again, and they moved past it, so how did you leave? How could you?

It was a mix of anger and regret they all felt, but seeing you that day made their anger with you for leaving subside. After all those years spent thinking of you, wondering whether or not you were okay, fighting over whether or not to go and find you, you wanted nothing to do with them. You didn’t even want to acknowledge them, let alone speak to them.

If it hadn’t been for the news Mel delivered from you, Abby probably would’ve gone back to her room and burned every picture of you. They were in her drawer, taped to maps, in a journal of her plans after she found Joel; find you. Instead, she left them as they were.

Maybe, this was how you were meant to say goodbye. Less so on a bitter end, but without resolution, your feelings about one another up in the air with neither of you wanting to define them or what they meant.

Or maybe, it was supposed to go like this.

Months later, after all hell broke loose. After Abby finally found what she was looking for, she was left still unable to find peace. She thought she did. She thought she found the fireflies, just where Owen said they’d be, but there were months of delay. Months of torture, and pain. If she could see herself, she probably wouldn’t even recognize the person she was looking at.

Yet somehow, you did.

You heard about the newest recruits– two that had to stay in the medical facility for some time thanks to the rattlers, but now that they had been released, you hadn’t heard much about them.

At least, not until you were introduced to a young boy added to your training group. He was skilled with a bow, and surely could’ve been a soldier, but for some reason, he wanted to learn how to heal. You didn’t ask why, but when he asked to stay a little longer with you in your greenhouse, you didn’t object, gladly talking to him about whatever he was comfortable bringing up.

Eventually, after at least an hour, the door to your greenhouse was opened. “Lev?” A girl’s voice spoke up. You almost recognized it, but figured it was unlikely that you did. The boy perked up, looking back at the door with a smile as you continued to work and re-pot your plants. “Hey… What are you still doing here?”

He pointed his thumb back at you, busy enough not to be eavesdropping. “I asked to stay a little longer, so she could teach me about making medicines.”

“Your patrol group is waiting for you.”

“Shit,” he muttered, the word sounding foreign coming from him and making you chuckle. “Can I come back later?” He asked you, earning a sweet smile.

“Of course!” He then rushed out as you finished what you were doing, carrying the plants back to where they should be. “Did you need anything?” You called to the girl still in your greenhouse, speaking from behind a hedge of flowers. “Sleep tonic, or something?”

“No… uh…” She was mumbling, words incoherent until she said your name, “Is that you?”

You set down the pots, heading through the maze of plants to get to the front door. You paused, looking over her. She was smaller, her muscle diminished to the point that it was hardly there anymore, and her hair chopped. It must've grown, now down to just above her shoulders, but you remembered hearing about a girl with hair cut close to her head. You frowned at the sight of her.

“You don’t… recognize me do you—?“

“What did they do to you?” You asked over her, walking up to her tentatively, hands reaching out as you thought about whether or not to make a move to hold her. Your eyes met hers, head tilting as your brows pulled together. “Abby…” Despite your better judgment, you reached out and pulled her into a hug, shocking her. Your hands ran over her hair, knowing why she let it grow out all those years; knowing she would never cut it herself.

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath, quickly pushing away from you and turning her back to you as her hand went to her face, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

You pursed your lips, looking to the floor. “Sorry. I forgot you didn’t like—“

“It’s not that.” She scoffed at you, blinking rapidly before she turned back. “I just— It’s just that I lost everyone else… I didn’t think I’d find you.”

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kaidatheghostdragon · 3 months

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Has anyone put Ida Manson and Alfred together? Do they even have a ship name?

I just want a fic where Ida affectionately blackmails the Waynes to help Team Phantom.

She and Alfred have been in a long-term and long-distance relationship

Ida definitely knows the Waynes are the Bats but has maintained plausible deniability up to this point

I think it would be out of character if Alfred didn't know that she knows, therefore he does

The Bats don't know that Ida knows and might not even know she's anything more than a distant friend of Alfred's

I'm torn on whether Sam's parents know that Ida has a relationship with Alfred

Ot1h, it would be hilarious that she kept it hidden from them. Maybe Sam knows and relishes in the rebellious nature of her grandma

Otoh, there is potential for Alfred being Sam's bio grandpa, either legitimate or scandalous, as well as potential family drama of hiding an affair with a butler

It could also color the Mansons' perception of the Waynes, too. Instead of the cliche of constantly throwing Sam at one of the Wayne kids to "marry up," they despise the Waynes because their butler defiled poor innocent Ida, or potentially dont want media attention digging into family history and finding that one of Sam's parents is the child of a butler, an affair, or a butler-affair.

If the Martha/Yhomas/Alfred threesome is invoked, things could get messy if Ida was actually part of a foursome, and one of the Manson parents is potentially an illigitimate wayne. Bruce's kids would potentially be Sam's cousins.

The cliche that Sam hates the wWaynes because her parents keep throwing her at them? Hilariously reversed. They're constantly telling Sam not to associate with the Waynes but never explain why. Rebellious Sam is gonna do the opposite, do her research, and demand to know why her parents hate the Waynes who run a meticulously clean company and dozens of legitimate charities that do some actual real good. Why can't you be more like Bruce?!

Enter Danny's accident and the sudden influx of ghosts. Ida sees the signs and requests that Alfred sends the Waynes over to appraise the situation. Could be extremely early on, or the team has had several months to establish themselves.

Suddenly, Sam is informed that Uncle (literal, socially adopted, or affectionate, use of the title is still up to interpretation at this point, but Ida is the only one that gives him that title to Sam) Bruce and his family will be visiting. She's delighted to meet *the* Bruce Wayne, may or may not be confused about him having a familial title. ("What do you mean we're possibly related? I've had a crush on Jason Todd since before he faked his death!" "You confessed your undying love for him when you were nine, Sammykins. We figured it was a phase." "I almost ran away to attend his funeral!" "You WHAT?")

Anyways, canonically, Sam is the one most interested in Danny becoming a hero, so she's going to be ecstatic to learn that her uncle/"uncle" is Batman and he's offering to personally train her. It'll be another massive point against her parents for not liking Bruce, regardless of the fact that they don't actually know that he's secretly a superhero.

I got a ton more points to add about how introducing the batfam like this, and so early in the timeline, could deviate the story, but this was initially about Ida and Alfred. So I'll just finish off by mentioning that any such fic is contractually required to have both the Waynes and Team Phantom utterly grossed out by the "old people romance" going on between Ida and Alfred.

#dpxdc #dp x dc

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cursedzucchini · 1 year

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Dp x dc prompt #2

I guess this is gonna be small series? Just some random ideas for the crossover lol. I don't have that many ideas, but idk I'm rn bored and don't wanna work on my bigger ff lol.

Summary: Jason doesn't get pit rage, but pit..... Friend??????

So basically Danny is Lazarus pits, but not in the way people usually interpret it. Be it his parents, or ancients, his core got destroyed and his body fell apart into ectoplasm with his signature. Obviously he died extremely angry, and that's why pit rage is a thing.

Enter Jason who was actually dead and came back on his own (i think), which means he was dead and than came back. So when Talia yeets him into the pit, and he absorbs the ectoplasm/pit, danny (or like his.... Blood?) Recognizes someone touched by death, and promptly boards him as the last chance to save itself. (I didn't think of how could Danny survive without a core, but if ecto signature is original for every creature, i imagine part of Danny was in it, or something)

Anyway Jason experiences the worts pit rage ever seen by the League, and they think he's beyond saving or something, and are ready to cut him down, when he just stops.

And Jason is just looking around, and goes "where the fuck am i?????". Anyway basically Jason stops experiencing the rage, and is just himself (no extra Rage and all that). The only thing is that weird voice just saying dumb jokes from nowhere and being soothing, but that's normal right?

Wrong!! Danny's here for a long time, not a good time.

Anyway Jason and Danny meets and Jason first thinks he's demon or something, idk it's up to u.

Danny in his current form can sometimes form a visible body, but it takes lots of power. He can also talk with Jason and like wander around (whcih depending on his power level, can be seen by Jason).

(also while Jason is training and stuff, Danny secretly drink the Lazarus pit, Bc first of all it smells nice and second of all forbidden juice. When Jason leaves there no more lazarus pit and ra's freaking out)

Yeah idk i just feel like this has potential. I'm too lazy to exit this, and i have some continuation ideas, but it feel even worse than this, so imma post this in a comment under this. I hope this inspires someone or something, I'm tired

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builtbybrokenbells · 10 months

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Fade Into You

A particularly bad day leaves y/n yearning for nothing other than the comfort of her boyfriend, Danny. Without question, he comes to the rescue where need be and makes sure she knows just how loved she is. With his help, she begins to see that bad days don’t last forever, especially with a boyfriend like him by her side.

listen while reading: fade into you - mazzy star

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: not too much for this one! bad day angst, mentions of depression/anxiety, swearing, smidgen of drinking, mostly just fluff!! sorry if i miss any!

hey, so this is a short little draft i kind of rewrote today. no smut in this one, just fluff. I’ve been having a particularly rough time the last few days, so it’s kind of a pick-me-up, i guess. boyfriend danny fucks me up fr. drew some inspo from one of my fav sad songs, cause it’s got such a variety of interpretations. also this is very poorly edited and probably not the best, so please forgive me. as always, hope you enjoy, please be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The morning came like a river of discomfort. When your eyes focused for the first time after a long nights rest, you were met with an empty space next to you in bed. The sight sent a wave of disappointment washing over you. Many mornings ago, you’d become certain that there was no better sight than waking to your boyfriend sleeping soundly. Days where he was gone before you were always miserable, and this one was shaping up to be as such. You didn’t have time to dwell on his absence; the next thing to catch your attention was the sun shining just a little too brightly in the sky. Once you clued in to the unusual scene, a jolt of panic ran through you. You you reached for your phone to check the time, but you were quite aware of what you were going to discover. While your thumb prodded the screen, trying to awaken it, you were already swinging your legs over the side of the mattress to get up.

Your screen displayed the time as 8:30; an hour later than you were supposed to be waking up. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, and you only had a half an hour to get ready and drive to work. There was enough time to brush your teeth and wash your face, and in your rush, you managed to make a big enough cup of coffee to get you started in lieu of breakfast. As hungry as you were, you knew you’d need the caffeine more than anything. By the time you were out the door, you had maybe ten minutes to get to your job, and even that was a generous time frame. It was a miserable way to start a Friday, you concluded. No joy for the weekend was present, just annoyance at how the morning had begun.

The drive was a blur; you pushed the boundaries of the speed limit the entire time, laser focused on the clock as if your staring would change the time. Between slow drivers and stop lights, there was no way you could avoid being late. When you pulled into your parking spot, the vehicle was barely in park before you were gathering your things and jumping out. In reality, you weren’t dramatically late, but you knew your boss all too well to think you could get away with missing even a few minutes of work. As you placed your items on your desk, your worry was solidified when your name was called from the door of your office.

“Y/n, you know we don’t tolerate this kind of behaviour.” He said, a disapproving tone very apparent.

“I know, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” You said, logging into your computer as you sat down.

“Next time I’ll have to write it up. I’ll let you go with a warning.”

“Thank you.” You looked up over your laptop, managing a small smile.

“I don’t want to have to dock your pay, but I will if this becomes a regular issue.” He explained, leaving you to sit with the information. He closed the door behind him as he walked out.

“Dick,” you mumbled, taking a sip out of your mug.

They morning dragged on without much interruption, filled mostly with mind-numbing reports and the occasional email filtering through your inbox. You couldn’t seem to shake yourself from the poor mood, finding it growing worse with each second that passed. By the time noon rolled around, you were all but focused on work, and your stomach was begging you for a bite to eat. You grabbed your phone and keys, making your way outside for a minute of freedom. You hoped the hour would allow you to rid yourself of the cloud of darkness that was looming over your head.

You climbed into your car and checked your phone, but you were met with another staggering disappointment. No text messages were received from the one person you’d hoped to hear from, so you clicked on his contact. Instead of waiting on a word from him, you called him, first. The phone rang for a moment, leaving you wondering if he was going to answer. As you listened to the dial tone, anxiety bubbled in your chest, fearing that you were interrupting something important. Just as you were getting ready to hang up, his cheery voice filled the stale air.

“Hi, beautiful.” Danny greeted. You could hear the smile in his words. His cheery tone eased your worry of him not wanting to talk to you. As ridiculous as the fear was, your brain wouldn’t give it up. You were constantly nervous that you were interrupting, or being a burden, and days like this one only made your brain scream it even louder.

“Hi,” You sighed, feeling your lips upturn into a little grin. It was the first time you’d done anything but frown all day. You slipped your car keys into the ignition, allowing your call to connect to the Bluetooth feature. “I miss you.” You said, unable to hold the confession back.

“I miss you,” He replied, sincerity dripping from his tone. “You okay?” He knew you well enough to tell your mood just from the tone of voice. He was nothing if not attentive, and always willing to listen if you wanted to air out your thoughts.

“No.” You were honest. “I was late to work. Slept in.” You explained as you pulled out of the parking lot. He knew all too well how you felt about your boss, not needing to ask about his reaction. “I think it’s just another one of those days,” you mumbled. He gave a hum of understanding, also aware of how much your bad days could affect you. “Any chance you can meet me for lunch? I know it’s a long shot, but I could really use a hug.” You felt guilty for even asking, but you couldn’t help it. He was your comfort person, and he always seemed to make the bad feelings go away.

“I’m sorry, baby. I would if I could, but we’re at the studio right now. We have a meeting right after we finish up, too.” He sounded sad for having to turn you down, almost making you feel even worse for asking. You hated when was upset, and knowing that he was upset on behalf of how you were feeling didn’t make it any better.

“That’s okay,” you knew it was a big ask, and you also knew he would absolutely be on his way if the situation allowed it. “I’m okay with just hearing your voice.”

“Promise I’ll make it up to you tonight?” He asked, hopeful.

“Don’t have to make it up to me.” You laughed. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’ll bring home dinner, and we can do whatever you want.” He told you, not willing to bargain.

“Okay.” You conceded, pulling into a cafe you frequented.

“I’m sorry I was gone before you woke up. We wanted to get here early so we could get as much done as possible.”

“I know, you don’t have to apologize, baby.” You repeated your earlier reassurance, hating the fact that he always felt like he had to apologize, even when there was nothing to apologize for. You never wanted him to feel remorseful over things he couldn’t control. He put so much effort into you and your happiness, but for some reason it seemed like he felt the need to give even more. “As long as I get you all to myself tonight, I don’t care.” You parked, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“You can always have that, bug. I’m all yours, remember?” He assured you. You smiled at the words, eternally grateful to have someone as kind as him.

“I’m gonna go eat, I won’t keep you any longer. I love you.”

“I love you, baby. I can’t wait to see you later.” The sincerity was thick in his tone, wanting you to know he meant it. “I hope your afternoon goes better than the morning.”

“I can’t wait either, and I hope you have a good day, too.” You smiled. You two uttered a small goodbye, ending the call without another word.

You went into the small shop, thankful for the short line. You gazed up at the menu, pondering what to get. As you stared, your mind drifted off to the boy you’d just been on the phone with. He was your rock, your best friend, and the love of your life; the only thing that gave you true motivation to get through the shitty days. The bad days didn’t come often, but when they did, they were horrid. It was never a just minor incident that caused a disturbance, it always seemed to be written in the stars that everything that could go bad, went badly. When the cashier called you over to order, you settled on another coffee and a sandwich.

After you paid, you made sure to leave a nice tip, hoping that the universe would send some good karma back your way. You moved over to the waiting area, pulling your phone from your pocket to pass the time. When you clicked it on, you immediately relaxed at the sight of your screensaver. It was a picture Sam had sneakily taken of you and Danny; you were looking off in the distance, completely taken off guard when your boyfriend had snuck up behind you and pulled you into a hug. His lips were pressed to your cheek and you were caught in a shriek of laughter. It was your favourite photo to ever exist, and it always made your day better when you saw it.

You’d been dating Danny for a few years now, having moved in together just about a year prior. It had been nothing short of fantastic, aside from the times he was travelling for his career in music. The big home was a bit lonely without him, but you were more than happy to watch him live his dream. There was rarely an argument, and your life was completely filled with love. Still, that didn’t rid your life of days like today, where you couldn’t find it in yourself to see the brighter side of things. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the world that could. Bad days were normal, and everyone had them, but it always felt like yours were catastrophic. They were the type of bad days that made you want to crawl into bed and never leave, plagued with the kind of misery that ached all over and settled deep in your bones.

Danny was like a ray of light, the only aura that could penetrate the cloud of emotion you found yourself caught in. He was well aware he couldn’t solve the issues, but was completely content with just guiding you through it. He did a fantastic job, showering you with love and support. He always quick with positive affirmations in argument to your insecurities, and if words couldn’t help, he was happy to hold you all night if it meant you would feel better. He was beyond anything you ever could have hoped for in a partner, and you were incredibly lucky to have him. At the same time, it sucked that he was the only thing that could truly help you in your bad times, because that meant you had to suffer through until you could see his smiling face. You were sure now that he was aware of the mood you were in, he’d use every spare second of time to send you messages reminding you of how much he adored you.

The barista called your name for the order, catching your attention. You have a half-assed smile and a thank you, reaching out to grab your drink. When you wrapped your hands around it and pulled it towards you, the force from your fingers knocked the poorly secured lid off. The flimsy cardboard cup collapsed inwards, spilling the contents down the front of you. You hissed at the heat from the liquid, closing your eyes at the burning sensation. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” The barista blurted out, scrambling for napkins. She handed them across the counter and you grabbed them, dabbing at your clothes. Thankfully, they were black, so the liquid wouldn’t stain them.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” You assured her.

“I should have checked the lid.” She sighed. “I’ll get you another one.” She told you before bustling away. You cleaned yourself up as best you could, knowing the thin paper napkins weren’t much of a help. You prayed you had a change of clothes in your car, but didn’t hold onto too much hope. You never seemed to have that type of luck in your life. When your replacement drink was safely in your hand, you mumbled another thank you and quickly bustled out the door to avoid any further embarrassment.

You scavenged your backseat for any other clothes, but you were quickly met with disappointment. You got in the drivers seat, fighting back tears, realizing that the day was not going to get any better. As you drove back to work, your skin was tingling with residual pain, and you wished for nothing more than to just go home. You walked back inside with your head down and your lunch in your hands, praying nobody would stop you and try to spark a conversation. When you got to your office, you closed the door behind you and collapsed into your chair, defeated from the days events. You noticed that your phone was vibrating in your pocket again, and your stomach was still growling with violent hunger.

As you began to eat, you read over the texts you’d received. The first was from Danny, telling you how much he loved you in addition to a plethora of hearts. The rest were from his bandmates, all along the same lines of them wishing you a good day and telling you they missed you. Danny had likely told them you were having a bad day, urging them to show you some love, too. They were nothing short of your best friends, and they always wanted to play a helping hand in making you feel better, so they obliged without issue. You replied to all of them as you ate, finding yourself giving a few genuine smiles at their uplifting words.

When your break finished, you returned to work with a steady eye on the time, praying for 5 o’clock to come faster. The afternoon dragged on much like the morning, still feeling like every minute was passing slower and slower. Eventually, when four thirty hit, you started to pack up your bag in anticipation to leave. Five minutes before your shift was through, you logged out of your accounts and gathered your things. Just as you were starting to shut your computer down, a knock sounded on your door. “Come in.” You called. Soon after, the door swung open and your boss appeared with a stack of files. You tried your best to push a smile out to cover up your grimace.

“It’s your turn to do the month-end report.” He said, placing the papers on your desk. You were certain you had done it not too long ago, leading you to believe this was his punishment for you coming in late. You sucked in a breath through your gritted teeth, nodding in response.

“Okay, I’ll get it done Monday.” You said, grabbing the files and placing them in your desk.

“Perfect. See you Monday at nine!” He made sure to emphasize the time before leaving you to yourself. You grumbled a slur of curses before locking your desk drawers and throwing your office keys in your purse. You stood, double checking that you had everything before heading out of the building.

It was raining, now. The grey clouds in the sky had a striking resemblance to your mood. You unlocked your car and threw your stuff on the passenger seat as you climbed in. When you turned the key in the ignition, the engine turned over, but didn’t start. You felt your stomach sink, immediately trying it once more, but you were met with the same result. You let your hand fall with force against the steering wheel, letting out a short-lived scream. The tears you managed to hold back earlier made their way out with a new found force. You fell back into the seat, closing your eyes while you tried to regain yourself.

After a moment, you pulled out your phone and called Danny again. This time, he answered much faster. “Hey, baby, you on your way home?”

“No,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but he could tell you were crying just from the single word.

“What’s wrong?”

“Car won’t start.” You mumbled. “Think the battery’s dead.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m on my way home, not far from you, actually. I think I have some cables in the back.” He explained. You let out a sigh of relief, wiping away tears. Although it was a pointless effort, because they were falling faster than you could keep up with. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” You sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying sorry for, bug?” You felt overwhelmed at his never-ending kindness, feeling deep down that you weren’t deserving of it.

“Making you stop, bothering you all day, being sad.” You gave a small, humourless chuckle as you listed the inconveniences.

“Don’t think any of that is deserving of an apology. Having to stop only means I get to see you, sooner. And, you haven’t been bothering me at all.” You could almost hear the frown in his voice, although his tone was comforting. “You never bother me. You’re my favourite thing in the whole world.”

“I just want to go home and go to bed.” You said, feeling another wave of sobs wash over you. You were distraught enough that you couldn’t even respond to his sweet words. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“I know, bug. I’m pulling in, now. Can you see me?” You looked to the entry of the parking lot, and sure enough, he was there. He pulled up beside you, giving you a goofy smile and a wave. You couldn’t help but laugh through the tears. The sight of him alone was enough to ease the hurt. He rolled his passenger window down, prompting you to roll yours down, too. He ended the call before he spoke. “Hello, beautiful. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Hi,” you greeted, sending him a smile. He climbed out of his vehicle, walking over to your window. He reached in, immediately wiping the tears away from your face.

“No need to cry over a dead battery. Easy fix.” He assured you. He leaned in, giving you a quick kiss. You felt the dread fizzle away, immediately feeling better at the small gesture. “You smell like coffee.” He noted.

“Long story.” You sighed, taking in the sight of him. He was in a cut off t-shirt and jeans, and his hair was pulled back into a bun. He looked tired, but had a permanent smile stuck on his lips. He was gorgeous, even in the simplicity. You thought it would be impossible for someone to be more beautiful than him.

“Care to share?” He asked as he opened the back door of his car. He pulled out a set of jumper cables in triumph, turning to show you. His proud expression was adorable, sending a flood of warmth straight to your heart. His willingness to help was overwhelming in the best possible way. You’d never met someone who cared for you so much, let alone someone who seemed so happy to do so.

“Spilled my drink all over me at the cafe earlier.” You told him, watching him move to the hood of his car. He lifted it, propping it up. He walked over and did the same to yours.

“You’re supposed to drink it, not wear it, silly.” He made a lighthearted pass. “Did it burn you?”

“It hurt, but I don’t think it left any marks or anything. Don’t really feel it, now.” He connected the cables carefully, making sure they were on in the right spots.

“Well that’s good at least, bug. Try starting it now.” He took a step back. You turned the keys over, and the engine sputtered for a moment, but eventually started. You let out a sigh of relief. He removed the cables and threw them back in his car. You left yours running, but got out to join him. “See? Easy fix. Should charge itself on the drive home.” He hummed, holding his arms out to you. You practically fell into them, holding on to him as if your life depended on it. You didn’t care about the rain, just about finally being able to hug him. Everything felt okay when he was holding you. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, gently rubbing his palm over your back.

“You’re the best, Danny. Thank you so much.” You said, fully meaning it. He was the best, you were certain of it. “I love you.” You mumbled, words muffled due to your face being pressed into his chest.

“You’re welcome, baby. I love you, too.” He didn’t let you go until you were ready. Eventually you pulled back, looking up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. “I picked up dinner. Your favourite.” He gave a smile, reaching up and brushing your hair from your face. He cupped your cheek in his large hand, causing you to instinctively lean into the touch.

“You’re too good to me.” You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling of his skin on yours.

“As if,” he let out a playful scoff. “Get in, you’re gonna get sick if you stand out in the rain for too long.” He said. You gave a nod, reluctantly pulling back from him. He leaned down, giving you one last kiss before opening your car door for you. “I’ll see you at home.” He said as he closed the door behind you. “Drive safe.”

“You, too. Thank you again.” He waved you off, not willing to accept a thank you for such a small service. He waited for you to pull out and leave before getting back into his vehicle.

The drive home was much better than the rest of your day. Knowing you would get to spend the rest of the night alone with Danny was enough of a consolation for the days suffering. The idea alone was even able to put you in good spirits, finding yourself able to sing along with a few songs on the radio. When you reached your shared home, you parked and hopped out, eager to get inside and get your coffee-stained clothes off. You weren’t even in the house before Danny was driving in, too. You waited for him to join you, watching him as he collected his things. “You threw a hitch in my plan.” He laughed, peeking at you over the roof of his car. You raised an eyebrow as an inquiry. “My big romantic gesture relied on me being home before you.” He explained. You noticed a tinge of red plaster across his cheeks. He pulled out a bouquet of flowers and a little stuffed animal. A box of chocolates was hidden behind the bear, too.

“Danny,” You scolded, feeling your eyes brim with tears again. Although, they were happy ones, this time. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, baby. It’s not much, but I hope it helps a little bit.” You walked over to him, straining a bit to place a kiss to his cheek. Even with your heels on, he was still a little too tall to reach. “You deserve it. I, uh, got your favourite wine, too. I figured it’s Friday, so…” the dreaded tears ran down your face again, making him nervous that he may have done the wrong thing. “I’m sorry, was it stupid? I just wanted to cheer you up.”

“No! No, I just… I appreciate you. You’re too good to me.” You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself again.

“I don’t think I could ever be too good to you. You deserve the world.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours.

“Thank you so much.” You said as he pulled away.

“You’re welcome, bug. Here,” he handed you the flowers and the bear. You took them, looking over them in gratitude. He grabbed the bag of takeout and the bottle of wine, closing the door with his foot. You both made your way inside, kicking your shoes off and going straight to the kitchen. He placed everything he was carrying on the table and grabbed the stuff from your hands. “Go take a shower, I’ll take care of everything else.” You gave him a soft smile, taking the opportunity to pull him into another hug.

“You’re the best.” You told him, making sure your poor mood didn’t cloud your appreciation.

“Only for you.” He whispered. You almost laughed at the statement.

“Whatever,” you pulled back, looking up at his smiling face. “You’re a ray of sunshine no matter where you go. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I shine the brightest for you.” He reminded. He lifted your chin with his index finger, leaning down for one more kiss before you left.

After you showered, you changed into one of Danny’s t-shirts and a pair of your most comfortable old pyjama pants that you’d word almost to destruction. When you joined him back downstairs, he’d put the flowers in a vase turned all of the lights off. In the living room, you could hear the soft hum of the record player. You followed the sound, seeing him sitting on the couch with the coffee table pulled close. The takeout containers were resting atop of it, with two glasses of wine accompanying them. He had changed, too, now only in a pair of sweatpants. His hair was still tied back, giving you a full view of his face. He’d even lit a few candles around the room, giving some low light after he’d closed the curtains. His lips upturned into a smile at the sight of you

“Come here,” he held his hand out to you. You obliged to his request with no hesitation, joining him on the couch. “Feel better?”

“Much,” You assured him.

“We’ve got the whole night to do whatever you want. We got what we needed done at the studio, today, so we have all day tomorrow, too.” Your heart warmed at his statement, realizing you could spend all day wrapped up in each other. You were eager to get as much time with him as possible, already preparing for the next time he’d have to go on tour.

You two ate in almost silence, enjoying the food and each others company. When you were both full, you took the takeout containers and stored the leftovers in the fridge. You returned and saw that Danny had readjusted himself on the couch, leaning into the arm with his legs strewn across it lengthwise. You changed the record before sitting down, finding home between his legs and resting your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You relaxed into his hold, closing your eyes and leaning your head against his shoulder. He snaked his hands under your shirt, letting them rest on your stomach. There was no hidden implication, just the desire to feel closer to you.

You slipped your hands on top of his, intertwining your fingers. After a moment, he leaned down, placing a kiss to your cheek. He kept his head down, resting his face on yours. You laughed at the action, leaning into him a bit more. The warmth of his skin felt nice on yours, inviting you into him even further. “I love you more than words, bug.” He hummed. The small things he did were worth more than the entire world, to you. His small gestures and loving words never left any room for doubt, and he loved you better than anyone that came before him. You were sure that nobody would come after him, either. You felt quite confident in saying he was the love of your life, and you’d be damned if you let him get away.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” You replied, feeling his arms squeeze you a little bit tighter.

“Bet you it’s not even close to how much I love you.” He smiled.

“I’m sorry my bad days get so bad.” You whispered. “I know it’s hard to deal with, and I know you’re too nice to tell me.”

“I don’t think you’re hard to deal with at all. I don’t know who made you believe that, because it’s always been a pleasure to love you, even on your bad days. Means you’re comfortable enough to show me all of you, and that’s what I want.” He explained. If it was possible to love him any more, at the sound of his words, you did. He always seemed to know exactly what to say. “You’re human. You’re allowed to be sad, or angry, or whatever you want to feel whenever you want to feel it. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I didn’t just want to date you for the good times. That would be selfish. I signed up for all of it, the bad days, the sick days, the boring ones, and the really good ones. You take care of me when I’m grumpy, too.” You chuckled.

“As if you’re ever grumpy.”

“You take care of me in all sorts of ways. Don’t discredit yourself.” He said, loosening his grip and reaching over for his wine glass. “I don’t ever want you to feel guilty for being upset. Taking care of you is my favourite thing to do.” The conversation died down, and the wine was coming to an end, too. You were both slightly tipsy; your cheeks rosy and you were both growing more handsy by the second. With enough time, the fog of misery seemed to dissipate as well. It was part of his charm; just knowing he existed was enough to put a smile on your face. Danny was the exception to every bad mood and miserable day. His love was stronger than any horrible thought or emotion your brain could conspire, and it always seemed to chase them away.

You stood, making a move to change the record which had slowed to a stop. You flashed him a cover, silently asking for approval. He gave a hum of affirmation, appreciating your choice. You replaced the record that was already on with the new one, carefully slipping it back in its sleeve. You touched the needle to the vinyl, waiting a second for the music to start. When it did, Danny stood and walked over to you. He held out a hand, resulting in a quizzical look from you.

“Dance with me.” He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You rolled your eyes, but a smile was growing on your lips. You took his hand, allowing him to carefully twirl you around. He pulled you into him, his hand finding your hip. You brought your arms up to his neck, both of you swaying in time to the music.

“I can’t dance.” You giggled, but he already knew that.

“Me, either.” He laughed, but you knew that, too.

“Four left feet and a bottle of wine don’t mix, Danny.” You explained.

“What’s life without a little risk?” He asked, bracing his arm on your lower back as he pulled you into him and dipped you down towards the floor. You let out a chorus of giggles as he did so, having no fear that he would drop you. If there was one thing you knew about Danny, it was that he’d protect you with his life. If you were falling, he’d always catch you. If he couldn’t, he’d fall, too, just so you wouldn’t have to do it alone. He leaned down and kissed you, holding the position for a moment. He parted from you only slightly, just to give you a grin.

“How romantic.” You poked fun. “You trying to seduce me?”

“Depends,” he said “is it working?”

“Mmm, you’re almost there.” He leaned down, placing a kiss on your exposed neck. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, realizing that there was nothing that could compare. “Better.” He pulled you back upright, making sure you were steady on your feet. He guided your chin upwards with his finger and brought you into another kiss, one where the only thing he had to focus on was you. You let one of your hands fall on his bicep and the other on the back of his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. The wine was clouding your head, enhancing every touch. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you towards him once more. When you parted, you were both breathless and had stars dancing in your eyes.

You watched him for a moment, immersed in his aura. Even the air around him radiated with comfort. He was perfect. He was everything. Unfathomably caring, attentive, and more loving than you ever believed a person could be. You felt extremely blessed to be able to share your life with him, and you were eternally grateful to have someone who was so willing to love you, even when it didn’t serve him any benefit. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, hands still holding you close to him.

“You,” you admitted, giving him a small smile. “I’m always thinking about you.”

“That’s strange,” he hummed, looking quite pensive. “‘Cause I’m always thinking about you, too.”

“That is weird.” You agreed. “You think we should start dating, or something?” You asked, pretending to be bashful about the question.

“Yeah, I think that would be pretty cool.” He nodded. “Should we, like, hold hands or something?” He asked, as if the idea was blasphemous. You shrugged, eventually nodding back at him.

“That would be pretty cool,” you mimicked his statement. In response, he let one hand fall from your hip, extending it out to you. You slipped yours into his, intertwining your fingers. “I love you.” You whispered, a grin eating away at your face. The childish nature of the situation reflected on the purity of the adoration he had for you.

“I love you, bug.” He leaned down, placing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.”

“It’s okay. You always make it better.” He wrapped his arm around you, holding you with all of the love he could muster within him.

“That’s all I want to do. I’d be more than alright if I spent the rest of my life making you happy.”

“You wouldn’t have to try very hard. Happy is the only thing I know how to feel, when I’m with you.” You laid your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, completely overtaken with comfort. You were certain that if you got to spend the rest of your life loving him, it would be the happiest lifetime you could live.

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