I've seen a lot of people writing Danny as a space ancient and Dan and Dani as ghosts with moon and sun cores, being sort of parts, versions of Danny and therefore weaker. Now, consider: Dan and Dani are both powerful ghosts with really cool cores and stuff but Danny is just some guy™
Dan, who came from an alternate timeline and is kind of from the future but also not, is Clockwork's apprentice and will eventually become an ancient of time. He probably only agreed to have some lessons with Clockwork to understand better what happened to him, but he enjoys his apprenticeship now.
Dani, with her love of travelling, loves seeing all the different places the world offers to her, and that includes space and different planets and maybe even parallel universes, and she accidentally ends up being an apprentice of the space ancient. For now she's probably a baby ancient of freedom or something like that, but she might become an ancient of space in the future.
We can also have something like Dan having a core of destruction or Dani being the Speed Force if you want it to be dcxdp, or any headcanon of yours about their cool powers.
And then there's Danny. And yeah, everyone knows that he's super powerful, but also he's just some guy.
It can go different routes. Does everyone know that Danny is just Danny? Or do they think that with siblings (well, technically a clone and an alternate version, but whatever) so powerful, he must be even stronger? Is Danny actually something terrifyingly eldritch and ancient and strong, almost a god, but he just doesn't know himself? Or is he just really some guy?
Now, because it's obvious that I have a dcxdp brainrot, have a regular "JL summons/meets a powerful ghost" but its Dan and Dani, and they keep mentioning their original/brother who won a fight against them at some point. The JL is very concerned about Dan and Dani's godlike powers, and they can't imagine what Danny is like. And then they meet him (in his human form), and it's just a young adult in casual clothes, very friendly and helpful, with no evident powers. Imagine the confusion. Imagine Dan and Dani, radiating power, in their eldritch ghost forms, admitting that fighting Danny for real is the dumbest thing to do and not even they would succeed... And then there's Danny is jeans and silly t-shirt, waving shyly.
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I want to ruin a boy with a mean domme friend soo badd
Poor thing being stuck between my praise and her degradation, not knowing who to listen to - maybe my friend gets really pushy, throws him around a bit, fucks him from behind until his head lands in my lap and she drags his face right to my center, telling him that good whores know their place without being shoved there first, and that he better hurry up
Meanwhile, I'm cradling his face and asking him if he wants to be my good boy, and wipe the tears from his cheeks - tell him how pretty he looks all fucked out like this and how good those cute whimpers would sound smothered between my thighs, don't you think, pretty boy?
Just - torturing a sweet boy for a bit
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cw. sanji x f!reader, smoking, praise kink, mating press
Thinking about Sanji just absolutely pounding you into the bed beneath you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every hard thrust of his hips, all the while his cigarette rests between his lips.
The smell of sex is almost as intoxicating as the smoke from his tab, but you don’t care, especially not when he’s ramming into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs every time, leaving you panting under him as he grips at your quivering thighs.
“Good girl,” he mutters, one of his hands leaving your thighs and coming up to his face, removing the cigarette from his mouth and blowing the smoke into the room, stopping altogether and watching you buck your hips needily for more friction.
“Oh, you’re so desperate…” he says, a slight curve on his lips as he watches how eager you are for him to continue. “Need me to fuck this pussy until you’re all filled up, don’t you?”
You nod, tears threatening to slip down the corners of your eyes.
“No, princess, you gotta use your words” he says, smoke seeping out of his mouth with every word.
“I need it, Sanji…” you barely whisper, and he places the cigarette back in between his lips to use both of his hands to force you into a mating press, the new angle allowing him to reach deeper into your walls.
You moan his name over and over, the tears finally dripping down your cheeks as the head of his cock abuses your sweet spot repeatedly.
“You’re doing such a good job, taking me so well…” he says, a string of groans following his words, soft grunts to the same rhythm of his thrusts against you. His brows are furrowed as he looks down, focusing on the way your pussy is swallowing his cock whole, leaving a white ring of your arousal on him.
“You look so pretty when you’re creaming around me, pretty girl” he praises, and he knows you like it when he feels you clenching around him. “You like that? You like me calling you my pretty girl? my angel?”
His calloused hands grip your thighs a little harder at the way you scream his name, his fingertips dig into your skin, sure to leave marks until tomorrow, just the way he likes it.
©️ zoromuse 2023 | all content belongs to zoromuse, do not modify or repost
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the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.
he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.
the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.
he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.
"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.
"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.
wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.
"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.
"changing your tire, sir?"
"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.
"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.
was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."
"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.
he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.
"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"
it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.
"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"
wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.
(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.
when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.
steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)
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