CONTENT WARNINGS: big Morning After vibes and the problematic implication that u may have fucked this asshole on purpose, alcohol/drug use implied, potential for nsfw.

( if danny had a nickel for every time he woke up in a different dimension from his last different dimension, he'd have three nickels — which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened thrice.

this time, at least, he vaguely remembers the night prior: gory cakes and candy-colored liquor and drugs, oh my, and you now, his bed partner cozied up next to him in a tangle of silk bedsheet danny would've never been able to afford in any of his eight hundred and counting lives. danny doesn't remember fucking you stupid, but he figures he must have or he wouldn't be here watching you sleep, watching you wake up.

when you begin to stir, he's there to greet you, propped onto his side on one elbow, palm pillowing his cheek, your one night stand from hell. his pants are on, small mercies, but the top button is missing, fly unzipped and gaping wide like an invitation or a trap. )

What's up, sunshine? ( hey there, pookie. idly, danny digs a tattooed thumb into your bare navel and mops up a smudge of baby blue frosting that he promptly nurses back into his slut mouth, sucked clean past mean teeth. ) Thanks for the lay, I think. Hey, you ain't seen a bitch with tentacles out and about, have you? Maybe hanging from the sky?

( good news: he's not a hallucination. bad news: he's not a hallucination, he's in bed with you, and he's asking you about tentacle sky bitches first jump off a gnarly hangover. )

CONTENT WARNINGS: gut(cake?)-fucking/wound-fucking, eroticized gore (both of a cake and human viscera variety just 2 cover my gore-related bases here), nsfw. this prompt assumes enthusiastic consent from his partner, so pls make sure ur character is a) a freak and b) dtf.

( danny never graduated high school or freshman biology, but he thinks you're a scientific marvel.

his air-tight case, as follows: you don't bleed wherever he bites you, again and again, over and over, from the column of your throat to firm pec or sweet tit, your nipple a candied marble that never melts in his mouth. he's got his hips bullied between his thighs and you propped up as his little doll on some vintage decorative table in an open, sprawling hallway where anyone walking by could watch him take you apart, lick by lick. except you don't bleed. except the only place where your body's caved unnaturally to danny's teeth is a little sweet spot beneath your ribs gashed open, sputtering wet but not bleeding, just waiting.

you've got a hole that needs filling, so danny does what he does best and fills it, responsibly, generously, two fingers knuckle-deep in your spun sugar guts. )

Feels like a cunt, ( is his only worthwhile observation here, though he bets it'd fit his dick like a cunt, too. one hand flexes between your thighs, cruelly squeezing whatever he finds there and doesn't let go. you're a scientific marvel. you're a tasty little slut, case closed. ) You wanna show me your other cunt?

( he's got holes to fill and eight more fingers, one tongue, one fat dick. count it down, count von count. )

( or hit me with anything else! park your character in his lap, get them a little turned around in the maze and have them run into danny in a dead-end corner Mysteriously (Suspiciously), whatever tickles ur fancy. i am ota to both m/f and m/m, prose or action brackets. he's written here v loosely as a crau in mind, but i'm, like, 50-50 on whether or not he'll actually be a crau vs a fresh slate. i'll cross that sexy little bridge when or if i come to it.

danny comes with a slew of content warnings that can be found here. also got a kink list for him over here. )