Happy to see Danny
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 29
by
copier
· original author:
an188
"Daddykins!" Charlie squealed, bouncing on her toes like an overexcited toddler—if toddlers were seven feet tall and could crack concrete with each hop. She grabbed her father's hands in her enormous golden claws, swinging their arms with girlish glee. "Guess what, guess what? Danny-poo and I found another space rock—just like mine! It made him all muscly and glowy and strong like me!" She punctuated each word by flexing a different body part—biceps, quads, lats—showing off her new cartoonishly muscular feminine body.
Mr. Morningstar's eyes flickered between Danny's gleaming form and his daughter's bouncing pecs. "Darling," he murmured, adjusting his cuffs with practiced calm, "are you telling me this... meteorite has somehow bestowed upon you both these... divine attributes?" Charlie nodded rapidly, platinum curls bobbing, then leaned in conspiratorially. "And guess what else, Daddy-waddy? We're back together!" She planted a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving a golden saliva smear that shimmered faintly. "Gotta go change—behave yourselves, boys!"
The moment Charlie's thunderous footsteps faded upstairs, the air between the two men crackled with unspoken tension. Mr. Morningstar circled Danny slowly, eyes lingering on the way his golden veins pulsed under milky skin. "So," he purred, tapping one manicured nail against his chin, "my little girl found herself a god." Danny rolled his shoulders, making his delts ripple like living sculptures. "Guess you finally caught up to her."
Charlie’s father laughed—a rich, honeyed sound—and strode to the liquor cabinet. Ice clinked as he poured two fingers of whiskey into crystal tumblers. "Oh, Daniel," he sighed, handing one glass over. "I don't know if my Char-char told you but it happened to her in Switzerland—skiing alone, no chaperone, like the reckless little pumpkin she is." He swirled his drink, eyes twinkling. "Imagine my shock when she came crashing through the balcony doors, veins glowing like molten gold, her sweater shredded off that magnificent new physique." He sipped, savoring the burn. "I always knew that my babygirl was meant for divinity, but this? This surpassed even my wildest dreams."
Danny clutched his untouched whiskey, fingers tightening around the glass. The man’s voice dripped with aristocratic amusement, every syllable polished to a shine. "As for you, darling boy—" Mr. Morningstar stepped closer, tapping Danny’s bare chest with one manicured finger, "—I must confess I adored you even when you were merely mortal. That delicious arrogance! The way you tormented lesser creatures! You were always my favorite of Charlie’s boyfriend." His smile turned razor-sharp. "And the only one who really deserved her."
The whiskey burned Danny’s throat as he finally took a gulp. He hated the heat crawling up his neck—both from the liquor and the man’s appraisal. Mr. Morningstar swirled his drink, eyes glinting. "When Charlie first brought you home, Daniel," he mused, "do you know what I thought? Ah. A predator. The way you eyed the staff, the little sneer when you thought no one was looking—magnificent." He chuckled. "But I had to be sure. So I paid a few campus spies. The things they reported—bullying weaklings, humiliating professors, that divine narcissism—oh, you made me proud."
Danny flexed his claws, watching the golden tips catch the light. Mr. Morningstar sighed. "I always wanted a son," he murmured, swirling his whiskey. "Someone that could continue my legacy... and then my beautiful Charlie brought you... tell, muscular, blonde, beautiful... you know that we look quite similar? My Char-char love me... so Mach she found a boyfriend that look like me, that could have been my son..." He chuckled, clinking his glass against Danny's untouched one.
Mr. Morningstar reached out, brushing his fingers over Danny's chest—where veins pulsed unnaturally under skin that shimmered like oiled gold. "I was planning you wading when you broke out with my Charlie," he sighed, "You are perfect together, I am angry at you my boy, it hard for woman to understand that men like can't just lock ourselves to one woman and that we need lovers too, to focus on ourselves, our ambitions, our desires, our pleasures." He took a sip of whiskey.
"You don't know how happy I am to discover that you find a similar meteorite," Mr. Morningstar continued, swirling his whiskey with practiced elegance before handing the second glass to Danny. His eyes lingered on the way Danny's golden claws curled around the crystal—too large, too sharp for delicate things—before flicking back up with a smirk. "And just look at you, Daniel. All that divine power wrapped in your usual... excessive presentation. A perfect god for my beautiful goddess daughter." He chuckled, sipping his drink with a wink.
Danny shifted, hyperaware of his nudity under the older man's amused scrutiny. He cleared his throat—uselessly, since words still tangled in his brain—and flexed his shoulders just to have something to do. Mr. Morningstar waved a hand. "Oh, relax. I've seen marble statues with less definition, and none of them could vaporize cities." He strolled to the window, gazing out at the moonlit estate. "When Char-Char came crashing onto the balcony—veins bulging, thighs thicker than the stone railings—I nearly fainted from pride. And now you're here." He turned, eyes gleaming. "Tell me, Daniel. Do you feel it yet? That hunger to remake the world in your image?"
The whiskey burned going down, but Danny clung to its warmth like armor. "Remake it?" He smirked, mirroring Mr. Morningstar's languid posture against the bookshelf. "More like... correct it." He rolled his shoulders, gold-dusted sweat catching the light. "People were already desperate for me before. Now?" He flexed one bicep, watching the muscle split into jagged peaks. "They'll beg to be stepped on."
Mr. Morningstar laughed—that rich, approving chuckle Danny had spent years trying to replicate. "That's my boy." Danny was happy, his golden claws tightening around the whiskey glass. He'd spent years mimicking this man's posture, his smirk, the way he could slice through a room with just a glance. To hear that approval now, naked and dripping with alien sweat, made something primal tighten in his chest.
"He see me as the son he never had!" Danny couldn't believe what he heard—his golden claws tightening around the whiskey glass as Mr. Morningstar's words settled in his chest like molten gold. The man had been watching him for years, approving of his cruelty, admiring his ambition, even planning his wedding to Charlie long before the meteorite. Pride swelled in him, hot and intoxicating, sharper than the whiskey burning down his throat. He even understands his need for mistresses.
Danny fought the urge to flex outright, acutely aware of his nakedness under Mr. Morningstar's gaze—the way those sharp eyes traced the alien sheen of his sweat, the jagged contours of his transformed body. He forced a smirk instead, tilting his head in lazy imitation of the man's signature pose. "Correction's overdue," he drawled, swirling his drink. "World's been begging for someone to put it on its knees." The words tasted like something Mr. Morningstar would say, and Danny watched eagerly for the flicker of approval in his expression.
"My daughter and you will do it... and I will make sure no one stops you." Mr. Morningstar's grin was all teeth, his manicured fingers steepling beneath his chin as he watched Danny's golden claws leave hairline fractures in the whiskey glass.
What now?
Mr. Morningstar's eyes flickered between Danny's gleaming form and his daughter's bouncing pecs. "Darling," he murmured, adjusting his cuffs with practiced calm, "are you telling me this... meteorite has somehow bestowed upon you both these... divine attributes?" Charlie nodded rapidly, platinum curls bobbing, then leaned in conspiratorially. "And guess what else, Daddy-waddy? We're back together!" She planted a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving a golden saliva smear that shimmered faintly. "Gotta go change—behave yourselves, boys!"
The moment Charlie's thunderous footsteps faded upstairs, the air between the two men crackled with unspoken tension. Mr. Morningstar circled Danny slowly, eyes lingering on the way his golden veins pulsed under milky skin. "So," he purred, tapping one manicured nail against his chin, "my little girl found herself a god." Danny rolled his shoulders, making his delts ripple like living sculptures. "Guess you finally caught up to her."
Charlie’s father laughed—a rich, honeyed sound—and strode to the liquor cabinet. Ice clinked as he poured two fingers of whiskey into crystal tumblers. "Oh, Daniel," he sighed, handing one glass over. "I don't know if my Char-char told you but it happened to her in Switzerland—skiing alone, no chaperone, like the reckless little pumpkin she is." He swirled his drink, eyes twinkling. "Imagine my shock when she came crashing through the balcony doors, veins glowing like molten gold, her sweater shredded off that magnificent new physique." He sipped, savoring the burn. "I always knew that my babygirl was meant for divinity, but this? This surpassed even my wildest dreams."
Danny clutched his untouched whiskey, fingers tightening around the glass. The man’s voice dripped with aristocratic amusement, every syllable polished to a shine. "As for you, darling boy—" Mr. Morningstar stepped closer, tapping Danny’s bare chest with one manicured finger, "—I must confess I adored you even when you were merely mortal. That delicious arrogance! The way you tormented lesser creatures! You were always my favorite of Charlie’s boyfriend." His smile turned razor-sharp. "And the only one who really deserved her."
The whiskey burned Danny’s throat as he finally took a gulp. He hated the heat crawling up his neck—both from the liquor and the man’s appraisal. Mr. Morningstar swirled his drink, eyes glinting. "When Charlie first brought you home, Daniel," he mused, "do you know what I thought? Ah. A predator. The way you eyed the staff, the little sneer when you thought no one was looking—magnificent." He chuckled. "But I had to be sure. So I paid a few campus spies. The things they reported—bullying weaklings, humiliating professors, that divine narcissism—oh, you made me proud."
Danny flexed his claws, watching the golden tips catch the light. Mr. Morningstar sighed. "I always wanted a son," he murmured, swirling his whiskey. "Someone that could continue my legacy... and then my beautiful Charlie brought you... tell, muscular, blonde, beautiful... you know that we look quite similar? My Char-char love me... so Mach she found a boyfriend that look like me, that could have been my son..." He chuckled, clinking his glass against Danny's untouched one.
Mr. Morningstar reached out, brushing his fingers over Danny's chest—where veins pulsed unnaturally under skin that shimmered like oiled gold. "I was planning you wading when you broke out with my Charlie," he sighed, "You are perfect together, I am angry at you my boy, it hard for woman to understand that men like can't just lock ourselves to one woman and that we need lovers too, to focus on ourselves, our ambitions, our desires, our pleasures." He took a sip of whiskey.
"You don't know how happy I am to discover that you find a similar meteorite," Mr. Morningstar continued, swirling his whiskey with practiced elegance before handing the second glass to Danny. His eyes lingered on the way Danny's golden claws curled around the crystal—too large, too sharp for delicate things—before flicking back up with a smirk. "And just look at you, Daniel. All that divine power wrapped in your usual... excessive presentation. A perfect god for my beautiful goddess daughter." He chuckled, sipping his drink with a wink.
Danny shifted, hyperaware of his nudity under the older man's amused scrutiny. He cleared his throat—uselessly, since words still tangled in his brain—and flexed his shoulders just to have something to do. Mr. Morningstar waved a hand. "Oh, relax. I've seen marble statues with less definition, and none of them could vaporize cities." He strolled to the window, gazing out at the moonlit estate. "When Char-Char came crashing onto the balcony—veins bulging, thighs thicker than the stone railings—I nearly fainted from pride. And now you're here." He turned, eyes gleaming. "Tell me, Daniel. Do you feel it yet? That hunger to remake the world in your image?"
The whiskey burned going down, but Danny clung to its warmth like armor. "Remake it?" He smirked, mirroring Mr. Morningstar's languid posture against the bookshelf. "More like... correct it." He rolled his shoulders, gold-dusted sweat catching the light. "People were already desperate for me before. Now?" He flexed one bicep, watching the muscle split into jagged peaks. "They'll beg to be stepped on."
Mr. Morningstar laughed—that rich, approving chuckle Danny had spent years trying to replicate. "That's my boy." Danny was happy, his golden claws tightening around the whiskey glass. He'd spent years mimicking this man's posture, his smirk, the way he could slice through a room with just a glance. To hear that approval now, naked and dripping with alien sweat, made something primal tighten in his chest.
"He see me as the son he never had!" Danny couldn't believe what he heard—his golden claws tightening around the whiskey glass as Mr. Morningstar's words settled in his chest like molten gold. The man had been watching him for years, approving of his cruelty, admiring his ambition, even planning his wedding to Charlie long before the meteorite. Pride swelled in him, hot and intoxicating, sharper than the whiskey burning down his throat. He even understands his need for mistresses.
Danny fought the urge to flex outright, acutely aware of his nakedness under Mr. Morningstar's gaze—the way those sharp eyes traced the alien sheen of his sweat, the jagged contours of his transformed body. He forced a smirk instead, tilting his head in lazy imitation of the man's signature pose. "Correction's overdue," he drawled, swirling his drink. "World's been begging for someone to put it on its knees." The words tasted like something Mr. Morningstar would say, and Danny watched eagerly for the flicker of approval in his expression.
"My daughter and you will do it... and I will make sure no one stops you." Mr. Morningstar's grin was all teeth, his manicured fingers steepling beneath his chin as he watched Danny's golden claws leave hairline fractures in the whiskey glass.
What now?
14 views
·
June 13
Log in to comment