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#'it's probably got an ancient curse on it'
voiidbound · 4 months
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"I do not trust anyone who isn't right in the head and trying to offer me food."
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midatwrtr · 3 months
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Two For One
Aespa Minjeong & Winter x Male Reader
10k words
Tags: Threesome, Creampies, Squirting, Riding, Missionary, Doggy, Virgins, Deepthroat, Double blowjob
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It was a bad idea, a horrible idea. You knew it as soon as you decided to listen to another one of Minjeong’s 3 AM sleepy thoughts: go to the forbidden library of the academy, read the ancient spell manuals, and try their magics. There was already one word you didn’t like in that sentence: forbidden. Most libraries prohibited access to certain books because of their fragility or rarity, which was understandable. However, in a magic academy where not only the teachers could put protection spells on the manuscripts but also repair the damage with ease, surely there must have been another reason. Obviously, it was going to be an important one.
The second thing Minjeong said that sounded suspicious was her desire to try the spells. Both of you knew how hard ancient magics were and knowing that they came from forbidden books should have been a sufficient warning to keep you from attempting them. It was also well known that Minjeong wasn’t the most talented of witches. You didn’t want to be mean to your friend but her academic performance was difficult to ignore.
You thought that being the magic academy’s top student, Minjeong would have brighter ideas, but no. Although you were strongly against the idea, her excitement and puppy eyes got the better of you and you followed through with her plan. 
When you were between the dusty bookshelves and the sounds of the rooms resembled more and more the cries of ghosts and haunted souls, it was already too late to back away. 
“Look, don’t they look so cool?” Minjeong exclaimed, pointing at the black leather book, with ashed gold linings and crooked letters. Clearly a cursed book. You could already feel the languish moans of the unfortunate victims of its curses.
“Wanna take a look at it?” she asked. You were surprised by her lack of worry at the obvious danger in front of her.
“No!” you screamed and pushed her before it was too late. 
“What’s to worry about?”
“What do you mean? If you were to touch that thing, you’d probably lose your hand, you idiot!”
Minjeong looked at you with an offended frown. “You worry too much…” her tone drifted off and she ran to the next bookshelf.
You followed her everywhere, preventing her from killing herself and yourself. There was a moment that almost got you. Minjeong jumped on the shelves with her full force. It was a good thing to remember that these shelves were centuries old and left unkempt for as long as you could imagine so obviously the wood gave out and Minjeong fell together with the ten books she managed to grab out of greediness.
You managed to catch her and shield her from the falling books with your back. Later, she apologized profusely but you had to go back to the dorm with an uncomfortable back pain.
Minjeong followed you to your room. You thought it was to bid you goodbye or apologize some more but then she took a book out of her coat. The weathered leather-bound book seemed to stare at you with its emerald green cover, warning you about its possessor. 
Your friend opened the book and let you see the elegant swirling calligraphy, red and deep. The pages had acquired a creamy yellow color with time and it was hard for you to read it. 
“We should try this spell,” Minjeong declared with a serious tone. 
“We—what?” you replied.
“I said we should try this spell. It will be good,” she said and cleared her throat, gaining a deeper shade in her voice. “It is said to possess the power to bring one’s deepest desires to life. It delves into the very essence of longing and seeks to materialize the aspirations that reside within the caster’s heart.”
“You managed to translate all that from this squiggly writing?”
Minjeong nodded proudly with a bright smile.
Your eyes took the shape of horror.
“Are you really sure? I mean, really really sure.”
“Mh!” she confirmed. Minjeong carefully laid the book on your desk. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she traced her finger along the faded text. “Imagine, our dreams made real!”
You eyed the ancient script warily. “It sounds like a scam. It really does. Do you really think one spell can make all of your dreams come true? It’s even better than the philosopher stone,” you said. “The forbidden section is forbidden for a reason. What if this backfires?”
Minjeong dismissed all your concerns with a wave of her hand. “Oh, come on! This is our chance! Let’s try it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Uhm… that we would die? Worse, we could be cursed for life and beyond as soulless ghouls.”
“Pfft. You read too many books,” Minjeong brushed it off.
“Minjeong, we’re literally in a magic academy!”
“It will be fine.”
Reluctantly, you sighed, “Fine, let’s just be careful. We have to follow the instructions precisely. By the way, what if they hear us?”
“Don’t worry, everyone has gone on the school trip. The nearest students are in the other building.”
The moonlight filtered through the tall windows and cast a soft glow on the center of the floor. The flickering candles seemed to get agitated as their flames danced more frenetically. 
You and Minjeong stood next to each other. She held the wand in her hand with confidence, ready. The air in the room was becoming heavy, there was a palpable energy.
“Are you sure about this, Minjeong?” you asked one last time.
“Absolutely.”
You both closed your eyes in unison. Minjeong’s mind cleared as she focused on channeling her energy into the wand. With a shared breath, they opened their eyes, the moonlight and candlelight casting shadows that seemed to dance with their anticipation. Wands at the ready, they spoke the incantation with a synchronicity that echoed their shared purpose.
"Manifestum Desideria."
As the words hung in the air, a surge of magical energy enveloped the room. You could feel the invisible threads of desire weaving around them, responding to the call of the ancient spell. The air crackled with enchantment, and a faint mist began to materialize, swirling around Minjeong.
The air vibrated and anticipation built up more and more until… it just stopped.
Minjeong opened her eyes and looked at you.
“Was that it?” she asked.
“Yep,” another voice answered. 
Minjeong jumped and screamed her lungs out. You got started as well from the unknown voice and her scream. As you turned around, you could see clearly who it came from. It was a girl and she looked exactly the same as Minjeong. 
“Hey, who are you?” Minjeong asked with a trembling voice, pointing at the other girl.
“What do you mean who is this? I’m you,” she said laughing. Her voice too was extremely similar to Minjeong’s but it was slightly sultrier, more playful, and sexier.
“Uhh, Minjeong? No, Winter?” you suggested.
“Yes, I’m Winter if that’s what you like to call me.”
“You can’t be me,” Minjeong said, more confused than anything. Your friend turned around to search for some kind of reassurance from you but you had no idea either.
“Yes, I am,” she repeated. There was a look of pleasure on her face seeing Minjeong confused. “And I know everything about you. Every little secret you try to hide.”
“W-w-wait, you’re just playing with me.”
“Yeah, like how you stole Karina’s makeup.”
“How do you—”
“And how do you like your friend, right over here,” Winter said, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you closer. Your heart suddenly started beating faster. You could smell her perfume, a strong sensual smell. You had hugged Minjeong before and all of Winter’s sizes were the same as Minjeong’s. She was a clone. If what she was saying was true, you might just roll with it.
“What?” you asked.
“What?!” Minjeong asked too.
“What? Are you going to tell me you don’t?” Winter said, getting closer and rubbing your chest. “Then this won’t bother you, right?” she said smugly, tracing her finger along your neck, then under your jaw and near your lips, right as she got her face closer. You felt goosebumps. You knew this wasn’t Minjeong, but she was so real and so identical to the real one that you wanted to enjoy the moment a little.
“Hey! Get off him!” she screamed, pushing her away. Too bad.
“Why? You like him?” 
“N-no!”
“Mh? Stop lying to yourself, sweetheart…” Winter got closer to your face. “What about you, handsome? Do you like her? You got a Minjeong all to yourself, you know? You can do anything you want with me.”
“Hey! What are you saying?!” the real Minjeong exclaimed.
“I see you staring at my lips, do you wanna taste them?” she asked and leaned closer, slowly enough to wait for a reaction, “Oh, you aren’t backing away.” Truth was, you did want to kiss her.
“You’ve done it now!” Minjeong pulled you away and hugged you hard. She felt territorial, almost possessive. “I’m supposed to be his first!”
“Oh, dear…” Winter laughed.
“Wait.” Minjeong turned to you as you stared at her with eyes wide open. You looked at each other for a moment, both slowly starting to blush.“Oh my god… you’ve ruined everything!” Minjeong screamed in frustration, holding her head in her hands.
“I don’t think so,” Winter turned to you, “You like her don’t you?” 
You opened your mouth and stopped for a second. You felt a gentle tug at the back of my mind. “Well, uhm, yes…” you said. It’s a only after a few moments that you realize what you said. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, and a hint of nervousness creeps in. 
“Ain’t that lucky?” Winter said and clapped happily while the two of you looked at the floor, not baring the sight of the other one. Your feelings had been confessed and so were hers but you did not know what to do now. Your wingwoman did though.
“You guys should kiss now.”
“What?! Listen, uhm, me, you helped us a lot but that’s too much,” Minjeong said angrily, pointing her finger at Winter who on the other side looked at her with a surprised yet content smile. 
“Why not? You want it.”
“Yeah, but we are going too fast.”
“Listen, I’m not leaving until you’ve done everything you have to,” Winter said, folding her arms and leaning her hips on one leg, showing her attitude.
“Right, are you going to stay here forever or is there a way to let you free?” you asked. “Also, why did you appear?”
“Did you guys not read the warning?”
“What warning,” you and Minjeong said in unison. You rushed to the book and immediately found a blood red paragraph on the other side of the page. 
[Exercise great caution when wielding the Desiderium Manifestum spell, for the line between reality and desire is delicate and easily blurred. The spell has been known to personify desires in unexpected ways, and the manifestations may take on a life of their own, beyond the caster's control. Use this enchantment responsibly, and be prepared to face the consequences of desires brought into the tangible realm. It is advised to thoroughly understand the potential repercussions before attempting to cast this spell.]
Minjeong’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait… the warning in the ancient spellbook? It said something about completing the ritual fully to manifest our desires.”
Winter nodded, a smug smile on her face. “Exactly. You manifested me because of your desires, right? To send me away, you have to acknowledge and act on those desires. I am just here to help you.”
You looked at your friend with disappointment as she laughed awkardely. 
After reading the paragraph you quickly understood that ‘making your desire come alive’ was really meant literally. You blamed Minjeong for not realizing it—she was the one that wanted to use the spell in the first place—and scolded her for not reading everything thoroughly before trying it. She apologized and said that it was her excitement that got her so worked up and that normally she would’ve seen it.
“So, we really have to…” Minjeong’s voice trailed off as she glanced at you, her cheeks flushed.
You felt your heart race as you met her eyes. The air was thick with unspoken emotions. “I guess we have to kiss,” you said softly.
Minjeong bit her lip nervously. “This is so embarrassing.”
Winter sighed dramatically. “The longer you hesitate, the longer I stay here. And believe me, I can be very persistent.”
You took a deep breath and stepped closer to Minjeong, gently taking her hand. “We can do this. It’s just a kiss, right?”
Minjeong nodded, her eyes locked onto yours. “Just a kiss.”
Then came the moment you had been waiting for: you had to kiss Minjeong and Minjeong had to kiss you. Your two figures illuminated by the warm light of the candles inside your room stood still as both of you looked at each other, uncertain. Minjeong bit her lip, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater. “Whenever you want,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. A brief silence hung between you, filled by the soft noise of the wind.
You took a deep breath. You were the man, you had to do it. You took a step closer, your eyes met Minjeong’s for a brief moment and shy smile played on your lips. She felt her heartbeat quicken and a nervous giggle escaped her lips. Their eyes locked and you both inhaled. 
You held your breath and gently cupped Minjeong’s cheek. Minjeong’s breath caught in her throat as she met your gaze, eyes wide open. 
Your lips met in a soft and hesitant kiss. It was delicate, shy, and quick. It was just a moment but you clearly felt her soft skin press against yours and it was a shock. You’d want more of it, it was the final gift of your long wait, and you wanted to savor it more.
As you pulled away, your eyes met again and a shy smile appeared on your lips while Minjeong had an ecstatic expression, her mouth still open. 
“Oh my god, good job you guys,” Winter said, clapping behind you. You almost forgot about her. “That’s your man now, you have to kiss him better, you know?”
“Calm down, that was our first.”
“Yeah, I know but don’t worry, I’ll show you. I really can’t hold myself back with him…”
“Wha—” Minjeong couldn’t finish her sentence that Winter jumped on you.
She kissed you ferociously—deeply, passionately. If she was the embodiment of Minjeong’s desire, she must have waited for years. You could feel the pent-up frustration and all the regret in that one kiss. Winter moans into you, pulling your face roughly into hers as her tongue invades your mouth, taking away the innocence that has sealed your lips until now. She moves quickly and hungrily, taking your breath away.
Your hands are naturally drawn to her hips. You’ve hugged Minjeong before and you knew how her body felt against her—Winter was exactly the same. Your fingers dig into her ass as you exchange the kiss. Winter’s hands on your neck felt possessive and territorial. She pulled you in even closer than you already were, pretty much grinding against you.
It took Minjeong’s whole effort to detach you from Winter’s grasp.
Minjeong immediately glued herself to you. 
“What the hell was that?!” She screamed with territorial fierce.
“I just showed you how to kiss properly?” the other said nonchalantly.
“Wasn’t that too much?” Minjeong stuttered.
“You left me waiting for too long. If you confessed sooner…”
You could see Minjeong pout under you. You placed your hands on her waist and pulled her close to you, making her annoyed expression fade away. You take her lips and meet her in a kiss more intense than her previous one. Her tongue timidly pushes forward, searching for your mouth. 
Her words resonate inside your head: “Touch me.” Your hands move around, alternating between her ass and her back, greedily taking all of her into your arms. Minjeong’s hands instead move to your chest, to search for support for what’s stirring inside her.
After a couple of moments, Minjeong’s lip turn into a shy smile and she backs away a couple of centimeters.
“You’re-you’re poking me,” she says softly.
“I’m sorry! I- it was you—no, the other Winter, have you seen how she’s dressed?” you quickly try to excuse yourself, thinking it might have been too embarrassing if you were to admit that she was the cause. But after all the blood rushed to your groin, your brain was left empty and the poor judgement would cost you.
“You pervert! You just confessed to me and you’re getting hard from another girl?!” Minjeong quickly yells at you.
“But she’s you! I’m getting a boner because of you!” you yell back, afraid that you might hurt her.
“You can’t scream this kind of stuff, you fool…” her tone becomes soft and she hides away.
“Oh, it looks like you two are starting to finally be honest with each other,” Winter announced, patting you two, “well, what are you going to do about this?” she said while rubbing your member. You jolt back, goosebumps running through your skin. The feeling alone was enough to have you throbbing. “Because if you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
“You can’t!”
“I know I can and I know you want it too. Remember? I know everything about you,” she says. “Do I have to tell him about all the restless nights you had rubbing yourself thinking about him? Screaming his name in your bedroom, night after night after night…” “Stop! It’s not true!” Minjeong said. She was so embarrassed that she was almost in tears. You couldn’t tell who was redder in that moment: Minjeong, whose secret was revealed to the last person she wanted to tell it to, or you, whose surprise left you frozen.
“So? You already know how her mouth tastes, want to know how it feels too?” Winter said, turning you. You couldn’t answer her question: your legs gave out and you fell into the bed. It was almost as if someone injected you with morphine. Your head started spinning, you couldn’t stand up but you couldn’t stand still either.
“What have you done to him?” Minjeong asked worriedly.
“Just my powers, he’s really really horny right now and his body is starting to lag. I have a really good aphrodisiac in my spit,” she confessed.
“Why are you doing this?” 
“Sorry but I don’t get to leave until he fills both of us with cum.”
“W-what?!” Minjeong was left startled at her clone’s calm demeanor. Their words were a confused blur, from what you knew, you were living a dream, a very fun one.
“The purpose of the spell is to make your deepest desire come true.”
“You must be joking right?”
“Have I said a single lie, yet?”
“No…”
“Look, I’m doing you a favor here, you have to stop being so against me,” she whispered in Minejong’s ear. “Your deepest desire is finally going to come true. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
Winter takes your pants off and your cock springs out. At the sight of your erect penis, Winter lets out a satisfied sigh, being able to finally take a good look at it. Her excitement was vivid, her wide eyes scanned the whole length of your member, from your balls to the tip. Awkwardness, on the other hand, was devouring Minjeong alive. She had her hands plastered on her face, trying to cover her eyes, even though she could see perfectly through them, flickering her fingers to reveal her aroused pupils.
The seducer smirked and looked at Minjeong with a bright grin. ‘You like it?’ is what she’d hear if her eyes spoke and ‘yes’ is what you’d hear coming from Minjeong’s mouth despite her bit red face.
“I know what you want, baby,” she said, brushing the cuter girl’s warm cheek. 
“I-I-I don’t want anything,” the poor girl stammered, suddenly feeling the need to look away at the confused boner between your legs.
“Right, sure,” she giggled. Then she reverted her eyes to you. “You know, dear, I’d really really want you to fuck my mouth and swallow you right up… but,” she looked at her identical friend. “I think she needs it more, don’t you?”
Minjeong was now looking down, rubbing her thighs together. She couldn’t matter a single word
“Scoot up close and give him a little taste,” Winter said, pointing between your legs.
Minjeong little steps on her knees, gulping down when she stood really close. “Are you sure?” she asked again, with a shaky voice.
“Lick him. Make sure to look up into his eyes, too.”
Minjeong took a few breaths to prepare herself. She hesitantly brought her head down, shaking throughout, and placed her closed lips on the bare tip of your cock. You felt shivers running down from your member throughout your thighs. 
Anticipation was killing both of you. “Is she gonna do it?” you thought. “Am I gonna do it?” she thought. She looked at you, looking for some kind of encouragement, reassurance perhaps. You looked just as lost as her, just as excited. You placed a hand on the side of her neck, picked up a few strands of hair, and brushed her cheek with your thumb. 
She smiles, her lips still planted.
Minjeong was ready. She inhaled the scent that was coming from your skin, closed her eyes, and took a long sensual lick, from the base of your cock, right to the tip. She straightened up and looked at you with her puppy eyes.
“D-did you like it?” she asked. 
You quickly nodded. You were twitching terribly at the cold humid air. 
“Take it in your hands and stroke him while you lick him,” Winter said.
“Okay… I’ll give it a try.”
Minjeong gave you a couple more licks, bringing her head down, and up. Her mouth was salivating and it wetted your cock completely. Then she placed her slender fingers, awkwardly holding you with excessive care. ‘You can hold it tighter,’ you whispered. Minjeong nodded.
She jerked you off, your cock slick in her palm. Uncertain about her rhythm, she alternated between fast and slow. Her fingers were thin and delicate but they were enough to make you desperate. 
The licking on the head of your cock wasn’t stopping. Minjeong continued, slowly easing to a more regular rhythm as you began to moan.
Winter let her original do all the work, while like a snake, she wrapped herself around your shoulders, whispering in your ear: “She looks really hot licking you, doesn’t she?” she giggled. “I know you’ve waited so long. You’ve been patient. I can’t wait to suck your cock with her…”
“Use your lips too dear,” Winter said. “No teeth.”
Minjeong placed her lips on the tip of your penis and started lightly sucking it. She looked more confident than before. Her hand continued jerking you off, her cheeks sunk in to give you small suckles, while her lips brushed her saliva away. 
You started to moan more deeply. You couldn’t help it. You placed your hand behind her neck this time. You weren’t sure what this meant for you—were you too stimulated and needed some support, were you praising her, were you caressing her—but for Minjeong it meant, “go deeper”.
So she did.
She lowered her head further until her lips touched her fingers and her tongue fully coated your frenulum. Your hips jolted for a moment. It seemed to please Minjeong a lot, who started to suck with more passion.
“You look really cute sucking his cock…” Winter commented again with her lowly seductive voice. “What about you, do you like her?”
“Yeah,” you said in a single breath.
“Minjeong, I want you to take him deeper.”
Minjeong raised her head, detaching herself from you. A big strand of thickened saliva pooled down from her lips to to her hands. “I can’t take them that deep…” she said in a tiny voice as she wiped the liquid from her face. Her eyebrows curved down in a worried frown.
“Don’t be silly, you’re me,” she said. “You can do it. Besides you dreamt about it every night. Taking his cock right down your throat to the deepes–”
“Stop! I’ll do it. Just,” Minjeong blurted out, “shut up!”
“Alright, alright. Just put him in your mouth. You have to relax your throat.”
Minjeong gulped and opened her mouth as wide as possible. Her warm breath made you stand taller. She wrapped her small hand around the base of your penis, to guide to her. You could feel it slide through her tongue, her lips grazing your skin, enveloping you completely.
She stopped midway.  You could feel the bump of her tongue with your tip. That warmth and wetness were already making your heart race, your breath was short and quick.
“Thaaaat’s right. Good,” she said. “But you can go deeper. Mmmmh. Show him how much you love him, how much you love his cock.” The last sentence sounded way too lewd. The growl from Winter shocked you. It was almost demonic, of pure lust and desire.
Minjeong took you deeper and seemed to struggle at first but then your penis touched the back of your throat. You weren’t breathing anymore and neither was she. She squinted her eyes, trying to keep you there, nice and snuck, until she couldn’t anymore and had to come up to catch her breath. 
The moment she took you out, you gasped. 
“I-I’m sorry, was that too much?” Minjeong mumbled.
“Don’t worry. He liked it!”
“Is that true? Did you, um, like it?”
“It… it was amazing, Minjeong. I’ve never felt this before.”
“Oh, that’s a relief! Okay,” Minjeong smiled, puffing her cheeks. She looked adorable, cute. Just like before the whole deal started. Just that this time, she was covered in spit and her eyes were slightly pink.
“Let me show you,” Winter said, taking you away from Minjeong. She put her hand on your cock and started stroking you up and down, while she was explaining. She picked up all of her previous spit that pooled on your crotch, using at lube. Somehow, she knew the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm.
“I know just how to take my his cock. Watch me. You move your tongue like this,” she pulled her tongue out, “and sucking, like gasping just a little will allow you to get his cock down without gagging as much, well unless you want to. You can slowly take him in. Like this…”
For the demonstration, Winter tried to take it in as slowly as possible, that took a lot of holding back, you could tell. She blinked a few times, her eyes crossed on your penis as it slowly slipped inside of her throat. Her throat was the same as Minjeong but her technique was completely different, this time it was smoother, tighter, and deeper.
She held you there, her lips planted right on your crotch, balls deep. You continued to gasp, feeling the twitches of her flesh caressing you and her throat trying to swallow you down. It was about ten seconds later that she decided to take you out. 
You were left disappointed but now was Minjeong’s turn.
“Like that. Now you try,” Winter said casually, whipping her lips clean.
“Okay. I’m going to try my best,” she agreed and then looked at you. “Can you keep your hand on me?”
You pat Minjeong’s head again, like a little puppy. She smiles cutely and closes her eyes as you rub her head. She giggles and smiles brightly. “Okay, now,” she said and focused. You kept your hand on top of her head, trying to guide her in.
She did just as Winter said, sticked her tongue out, gasped and let you in. She struggled again but this time she actually took you all the way in. She kissed your crotch and puffed up her cheeks. You could feel her moan, the vibration caressed your whole skin, you must have hit a good spot. 
Then she took you out. 
“I did it!” Minjeong exclaimed.
“You did so well, baby,” you said and continued patting her.
“Hehe, I like it when you compliment me,” Minjeong mumbled. She wasn’t usually like that. Well, she did become very touchy sometimes and demand your hugs when she drank too much, but she was never this… submissive. You glanced at Winter with a suspicious gaze. She just giggled and raised her shoulders.
“She’s just cock-drunk.”
Minjeong took you again, deeper than before. And when she couldn’t hold it anymore, she took you out, caught her breath, and went again. Again and again. And then she made a discovery: she didn’t need to take your cock out of her mouth to breath, just half was good. She maintained a constant suction, leaving you no rest at all.
“You’re so good Minjeong, your throat feels like heaven.”
After a minute of slow bobbing she made a second discovery: having you graze her throat actually felt good. So then she started bobbing her head up and down, just small centimeters, enough to feel you go in and out of her throat. She continued her moderate bobbing, gasping, and moaning, while her thick spit went everywhere. She was affectionate and sucked with passion, she really wanted to make you feel good, and she loved you.
“God, you’re making me lose my mind,” you moaned as well. Minjeong loved your moans. That and your hands on her head made sure she knew how good you were feeling and she just wanted to suck you more.
Winter giggled and brushed your ear. “Isn’t she doing so good?” she whispered. “Wow, all the way down. I’m a little jealous…”
“You know,” she started. “I think you should fuck her face. I think she might like it…”
It was like her words took control of your body. You kinda wanted it but you also wanted to be gentle for her but you stood up. Minjeong stopped and breathed heavily. She looked at you with confusion as she didn’t hear her counterpart. 
“Dear, why are you standing? Is everything okay?” she asked. You didn’t answer as your knees were getting weak but you didn’t want to leave her hanging either. You put both of your hands on her head and patted her, playing with her hair, caressing her gently. “Ah… I love it when you run your fingers through my hair…”
“Minjeong, do you want to feel him take...a bit more control?”
Minejong looked at you with her puppy eyes, submissive and innocent. “I-I’d be okay with that. I trust you.” She held the hand on her head. “Mmm, I trust your touch. I know you’ll be gentle. I’m ready. I promise. Guide your cock into my throat, please.” You wonder how such a pure girl could pronounce suck lewd and naughty words with the same innocence as when she asked for cuddles.
You stand up and she follows you on her knees, holding your thighs. You kinda of felt bad for her, she had to be the only one to stay on the floor, but she looked more than happy. You pushed back into her, as gently as possible. Minjeong wiggled her head to take you in with a slurp and started lightly sucking on you, with care and love. With both of your hands on her head, you started pushing in and out of her mouth.
At first, you only used your hands at a slow pace. You wanted to make sure she got used to the feeling. You didn’t want to be too rough. But then she got more enthusiastic, you could tell she was buckling her head herself, telling you to go faster.
So you did.
You start moving your hips as well, properly fucking her pretty mouth. It was a moderate pace, you were still afraid of hurting her. She felt amazing, out of this world. If her mouth was already pleasurable before, now with the rhythm, it was ecstatic. 
You almost got carried away when you heard the wet sloppy sounds of her spit pooling out of her lips. You had to stop yourself. You pulled out and saw Minjeong coughing. You quickly brushed her face with worry.
“Are you okay?”, you asked.
She looked at you with resolution. “Please, don’t stop.”
Who were you to refuse? You were back in no time and fucked her face even faster than before. Now she started moaning, the vibration of her voice adding to the pleasure. Your legs start shaking and you moan together with her. Moans, slop, and plops, the sound of spit and her mouth were all you could hear.
“Oh wow. It’s so hot watching you fuck her face like that,” Winter coos. “I feel left out… Do you want my mouth and throat, too?”
She put her hands on you, it’s a seductive hypnotizing touch that took your mind out of the moment. You stare at her, blinking vividly, and you slowly stop fucking Minjeong’s face. Winter must have been a succubus, there was no way she was just a “manifestation of Winter’s desire”. She controlled your every muscle, every thought. You reluctantly let go of Minjeong’s head altogether and turn to Winter.
“Why did you stop?” your friend asked needly.
“Because it’s my turn, he’s gonna fuck my throat now.”
Winter’s knees are already on the floor. She crawls towards your crotch. Her eyes are already more riled up than yours. She sticks her tongue out and you’re buried deep inside her throat. She doesn’t gag at all, instead, she starts giggling and sucking you violently. Her hands on your buttocks help her pull your cock inside of her. 
You give her slow hard fucks. You try to break her throat. The wet mess that is her mouth is way too pleasurable for you to hold back. There comes a point where you stop caring and start fucking her throat as rough as you can.
Fast and rough, hard and deep. Every thrust brings you closer to the edge. Your eyes roll back into your head, slowly but surely, and your mind fogs up. You can only feel pleasure, pleasure, and hunger for more.
You went on for so long, you were even surprised at yourself you could last that long. It must’ve been Winter’s doing. 
You were two thrusts away from cumming when you stopped. Actually, you didn’t stop, it was Winter again who pushed you away. She slurped all her spit and cleared her throat. 
“You know I loved it but I didn’t want to keep you all for myself. I want Minjeong to taste your cum too,” she declared and pushed you back down into the bed. Winter continues to work on your cock with small licks and suckles. She gestures for Minjeong to come closer and join her. She does.
Now both of the Minjeongs are licking and sucking you, with such eagerness and hunger, that you were wondering who the original was. But you didn’t have enough brain left to think about it.
Thinking about it, Minjeong was being a lot more affectionate, mixing her licks with little kisses, she was sloppy and inexperienced. Winter was being a lot rougher, her licks were fast, and she sucked you hard enough that she could have left hickeys on you. Both of their faces were smushed together trying to claim more of you from the other.
But you couldn’t last long. You came right after.
You came harder than you ever did.
Strings of thick cum came raining down on their faces. They both stopped in surprise and admired the cum shooting out of your helpless cock. It was a piece of art. Both of them were painted white. Your penis continued to twitch and contract even when there was no more cum left—the pleasure was too much.
Winter went right back with gentle long strokes of tongue to clean up after their mess. She swallowed your cock once again, to suck up all the cum that was left. 
Minjeong instead slowly picked up the cum from her face and stared at it in the palm of her hand. It took her a moment to decide that she wanted to taste it. She licked it. Picked more and ate it. She continued to brush all the cum from her face and hair and licked it right up, like a cat trying to clean her paws.
Heavily breathing and with your heart still pounding, Winter flashed you a very bright smile. “So what do you want to do now?” she asked you. 
“Huh?” you responded. Your mind was still cloudy.
“You can do anything you want. What’s your next move?”
You breathed a couple of times and swallowed. “I want… I’d like to return the favor, Minjeong.”
“Eh?!” Minjeong jolted up. “W-what are you saying?”
“I want to eat you out, Minjeong,” you said with more resolution.
“You’re being too direct.”
“Come on, have you seen what we have just done? There is really no point in hiding now.”
“You’re right…”
“Oh my, you’re so selfless, baby,” Winter joined the conversation. “It’s okay, I can help with this too. After all, this was one of Minjeong’s desires as well. I have the full knowledge.”
“Please, will you ever stop saying this embarrassing stuff?” Minjeong pleaded.
“No, hehe” she giggled.
Minjeong replaced your spot on the bed, but this time she sat right in the middle and you crawled before her. She spreads her legs. The action makes her blush terribly but you’re just as embarrassed. You position in between her thighs and awkwardly smile at her. “I’m– I’m kind of nervous.”
“Well are you gonna leave me here with my legs open, you jerk?” Minjeong teased you.
To break the ice again, you softly kiss Minjeong’s lips, trailing down to her neck. While you’re sucking her skin, your fingers make her towards her heat. Softly brushing her legs, her thighs, and then her panties. Your fingers start playing with the drenched cotton. It had already absorbed all her juices, one squeeze and it would’ve overflown right onto the bed.
“You’re so wet, Minjeong.”
“Please don’t say that,” she said breathily.
You moved down, bringing her panties away. Your breath hits her very core. You stand low, admiring her pussy, completely wet and excited. “You smell sweet,” you said before placing a kiss between her lower lips. She let out a soft moan of anticipation.
You then started licking her pussy and clit with your full tongue. Minjeong moaned louder and her hands immediately strapped to your head for support. Your tongue started moving around and licking her wildly.
The feeling of your warm breathing hitting her core and your tongue making swirls around her clit was a feeling she had never felt before. “That’s so good, baby,” she moaned. You inserted a finger into her hole and your tongue continued to lick onto her bead.
Second finger in, Minjeong let out another lewd moan. “You taste so good, Minjeong.”
“Wait—you have to slow down! Hhhngg, I’ll cum!”
And that’s what you wanted. The continuous licks and motion of your fingers send Minjeong to her high. Her pussy continued to let juices flow out of her hole, which you licked right up with excitement. She could feel the knots forming inside her stomach and her back beginning to arch more and more with each pump, and each lick.
The poor girl couldn’t hold it in anymore. She was twitching everywhere, the pressure inside of her was begging to overflow and her toes and fingers all curled up in an attempt to resist.
Eventually, she let out the most lewd noise that you had heard yet. “Fuck!” as she came. Her pussy let out thick transparent cum, with such a lewd noise as well. You slurped it all up. It was as sweet as all her other juices. With her hands still on your head Minjeong is breathing heavily and looking at you with surprise as you’re still cleaning her up.
Jaw still open, there is a vague smile on her face.
But she wasn’t satisfied and neither was Winter, especially her. She was here for a reason, to make sure Minjeong’s darkest deepest desire came true. Unfortunately, fortunately for you, it wasn’t simply kissing you, which you have already surpassed by now, and it wasn’t pleasuring you either. It was, to put it simply, to have you cum inside her, but you didn’t know that.
“It’s time for the main course, dear,” Winter said, amused at your little work with her twin.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, we aren’t done,” she said, giving you a confused glance. She wondered why she even had to explain it, of course, you weren’t finished. “You have to…” with a softer voice, “put it in.”
“Uhhhh…”
Winter smacked her lips. “I can understand why you’d be nervous, but don’t tell you me you don’t want to. After all, you haven’t been this hard throughout this whole… ‘interaction’, and I only mentioned the possibility of fucking her.” She giggled and brushed your shoulder. “Look at you, so excited.”
You turned around to search for Minjeong’s opinion but you could only find her cloudy, drugged eyes. She was mindlessly staring at you, full of lust and desire, her lower lips were slightly twitching at your sight. Goosebumps all over, she didn’t need any more time to recover from her previous orgasm, that was her warmup.
She stretches her arm to grab the back of your neck and pulls you into her lips for a soft kiss. “Please, don’t you want it as well? We have already come so far… I don’t think I’ll have that courage again,” she told you in a weak airy voice.
Minjeong was ready. She was ready to take you.
“Alright,” you decided.
Minjeong’s pussy was already dripping wet, warm, and stretched, waiting for you to come in. The demon on your shoulder was caressing your ear the whole time, whispering words of lewd and temptation, encouraging you to act. 
You grab your penis and inch yourself closer to her already parted legs. You position yourself and after Minjeong’s nod of approval, you start lowering yourself into her, steadily, slowly. You stare at your cock disappearing into her folds. The girl whines helplessly and you groan when your shaft finally enters completely, breaking her lock and burying itself completely inside her.
She moans loudly and instinctively hugs you, searching for support. 
You never forget your first time, they say. The first thrust is always the hardest, it makes you grit your teeth. The first time you feel something so tight and warm. Never in your life have you felt such wetness, your lower body stiffens and you already want to cum.
After breaking her lock, every sort of profanity seeps out of Minjeong’s lips. “Fuck! So… full…!”
It takes time for Minjeong to get used to the burn from the stretch. She could feel your every throb and pulse inside of her, so snug and tight. She quickly gets used to this new feeling and finally finds herself begging you to move. 
You’re being careful, not to push too deep and not hurt her more than necessary. But Minjeong liked it. She wanted to feel you against her cervix, your tip brushing against it, and she pulled you deeper and deeper with every thrust, with her ankles clenched around your hips.
Your mind had already lost it. Reduced to grunts and curses, you only knew to push and pull into her pussy, worshipping the beautiful body of your greatest love with the deep motion of your hips. “You’re amazing, Minjeong. You’re—ugh—incredibly tight,” you said. You wanted to let her know. Your movements still don’t stop and you find it a great feat to let out any words at all.
Minjeong responds with a couple more of her moans. Something the lines of ‘Why did you take so long to finally fuck me like this?’ and you were sure to make up for the lost time.
You switch the pace in a desperate attempt to make yourself last longer. Your hips live her and slam against her again, hard, with glistening slick strings stretching between your and her skin. She’s wet, incredibly wet. Everything is too slow for Minjeong, too slow for how desperate she was but you were doing great. You hit exactly the right spot, that exact spot to drive her crazy. All her past frustrations come back with vengeance, building up in her belly, reaching a crazy strong pressure. 
Minjeong’s screams are almost silent, breaking against her vocal cords. Her body finally succumbs to the insurmountable pressure and pleasure of your penis, and she finally cums. She grips you tightly and roughly pulls you into her body, finding comfort in your warmth and weight.
“It’s okay, let it go…” you murmur against her wet skin.
You gently pull out of her, letting yourself rest against her lips and two fingers on her pulsing clit to help her ride her orgasm out. However, you get the opposite reaction. It might have been the heightened sensitivity from her previous orgasm, or how wound up she had been for this long, but your fingers push her over the limit. Another screech and she’s convulsing again, the pressure building up again, and all of a sudden she’s gushing, spraying your arms, sheet, and wetting your whole body.
Her hips buckled and twitched while streams of squirt poured out of her twitching cunt. Her moans were loud, desperate, and helpless. 
“Oh my god, look at her go,” Winter said with a great smug plastered on her face. “Good job,” she said with an even more seductive tone, “look at your work. Look at how totally drenched the sheets are.”
As she talked, her hand came to wrap your cock. She started to stroke you, slowly, and carefully. It was a strange feeling. You were ready to burst, your penis was rock hard, and you were on the edge. But no matter how much she touched you, you just couldn’t cum, it was a constant edging.
“Mh? Wondering why you can’t cum?” she giggled. “Let’s just say it’s a little magic of mine…” 
She turned around to Minjeong, “And to think you were trying to deny it just moments ago and you came so hard. Fucking slut you are.”
“Shut up,” Minjeong replied weakly. She was still trying to recover from her violent orgasm.
Winter laughed with amusement and let you lie down. “Do you think you’ll make me cum as well? But let me tell you something first: I’m the one in charge.”
Her fingers suddenly clamp tightly on your cock, straighened out, she aligned you and sunk you inside of her. It was a totally different feeling. Way sloppier, way wetter, way tighter. You couldn’t believe they were the same person. It was like her pussy was trying to milk everything out of you, clamping down with a choking grip. 
Winter wastes no time and starts jumping on you, with hard pumps. She knocks the air out of your lungs. It was an aggressively fast pace, paired with her tightness, you were already going to cum. But you couldn’t cum. Winter had you on the palm of your hands. 
“So helpless, I bet you want to cum, don’t you?” she laughed.
“Please slow down,” you begged. 
Soon enough, her hips slow down. She remains glued to you, twisting and moving her hips around, your cock swishing inside her pussy. You could feel every single fold of her pussy, she was inviting you to explore the inside of her body. 
It didn’t last long though. There you go, Winter was pounding you inside of her again, with wild hips. You wondered how could she move that fast, even you couldn’t do it. Your hand was just a tiny bit faster than her, which was extremely impressive. 
Your mind was broken. You had difficulty moaning—the pleasure was spreading all the other parts of your body, your fingers were jittery, you curled your toes, and started salivating. 
“Fuck, finally, that’s good…” she exhaled. Her own pleasure was her goal but it was inevitable that you were going to be broken as well.
She stopped once again. With slow forceful strokes, she got up and smashed herself down. It was intense, you had to admit. 
Letting you cum was an act of compassion. She pulled you out and let you spurt your semen everywhere. You covered her tummy and yourself. You collapsed immediately from the exhaustion. Winter lowered herself and started cleaning you, licking your hypersensitive head, and swiping up all the strings and droplets of cum.
“You did a great job, handsome,” she congratulated you with your cock in her mouth. “Didn’t think you’d last that long without passing out.”
“You’re… you’re crazy,” you said with a faint voice.
“Sure, I’m not even human,” she giggles. “Pull yourself together, handsome. We’re not done yet.”
The Deja Vu makes you stand up. “What do you mean?” Her response is a wet kiss. She swivels her tongue inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue and inside of your mouth. A small peck and you’re hard again. 
“Consider that a little help,” she said.
You feel two hands hugging you from behind. It’s Minjeong. She sounds tired but determined. “I haven’t made you cum yet,” she whispered.
“It’s fine, I don’t—”
“It wasn’t an offer.”
When you look at her, your blood runs cold. Pure lust. Pure desire. Pure libido. Stripped of her innocence, there was nothing different from Minjeong and Winter anymore. Strangely enough, her eyes alone were enough to get you riled up. Seeing her desiring you so much got you in the mood as well.
Again she laid on the bed before you, but there was something different this time. Her eyes were a lot more inviting, needy, and she made it clear as with her two hands, she stretched out her pussy, inviting you in. You watch her pink folds slowly open up, completely drenched and tight. You couldn’t resist such a naughty sight.
You slide yourself inside and it’s heaven all over again. Holding onto your arms, you fucked her hard and deep. With her cunt utterly drenched from the non-stop cumming, every thrust was a loud sloppy mess. Her grip was demanding. Her pussy gripped you tight, with her lips glued onto you, trying their best not to let you slip out.
“Don’t worry about me,” Minjeong said. “You can be as rough as you want…”
You were already exhausted but her words could only fire you up even more. You had lost all control of yourself, you pounded her with desperation. 
Her face was contorted in frowns and grimaces of overstimulated pleasure. You got lost in her eyes. They desired you, they wanted you. 
“Please, please, I need you to cum inside of me.”
Minjeong made herself clear. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Her legs wrapped around your waist and locked you against her pelvis. She squeezed you, forcing you to go even deeper into her wet pussy. You continued pounding her as much as possible, trying to enjoy your last moments. 
“I’m really gonna cum now,” you warned her.
“Do it,” was all she said.
You couldn’t hold it in. With Minjeong’s nails deep into your skin, her legs tightly locked around your hips, and her lips quivering in your ear with that needy lustful voice of hers: “Please, I want it inside. I want you to cum inside me… please,” you couldn’t do anything else but fulfill her desire.
You grunted as you cum so deep inside her womb.  Minjeong had complete control over you, leaving you with no choice but to release more of your semen into her. Her tight walls eagerly accepted every intense release, filling her with an abundance of creamy fluid. The relentless contractions and pulsations continued as she milked you completely dry, not allowing a single drop to escape. Even after that, you couldn't resist the urge to keep thrusting, pushing your messy and heated load deeper and deeper inside her.
As soon as you pulled away from her warm embrace, Minjeong loosened the tight hold her arms had around you, and sat upright on the bed with her legs spread wide open. You cam so deep inside of her that it took a great effort of pushing and squeezing for your cum to finally pour out of her. With her wet pussy lips on display, you both observed as your cum trickled out of her—a steady stream of white liquid that left a mark on her thighs.
"Wow, you totally filled me up," she inquired, breathing heavily, as she slid a finger into her wet pussy and provocatively licked it clean. “Was that too lewd?” she giggled.
“Yeah, totally,” you responded and laughed with her.
“Don’t you think you’re forgetting someone?” Winter cooed, grabbing your chin. “I think you still got some more juice inside those balls. They don’t look empty to me.”
“Is that fine, Minjeong?” you asked. Unsure. At this point, with your seed inside of her, she probably had some kind of right over you. 
“Oh, what a gentleman you are,” Winter said. “But just so you know, I am not leaving until you fill me up to the brim.”
“If that’s what she wants,” Minjeong sighed. “I don’t want to deal with her anymore.”
“Come on, what are you waiting? Are you gonna cum inside of me or what?”
You don’t want to make her wait any longer. You force Winter’s face down to the mattress. Ass up, hands on her lips, she’s full spread, ready to take you in. One single push and you slip inside. There is no need to warm up again, no need to pick up the pace. Her pussy was already molten and shaped to accommodate your cock perfectly.
You quicken your pace, Minjeong rests with her back fully arched to help you reach her deepest spots. Your cockhead taps against her cervix, arousing you more than it should. 
Your hands kneed her asscheeks with greed. It only turns her on, your lips grip you with fierce. Her hole tightens and twitches as you mistreat her pussy.
Winter laughs and moans with joy. “Oh my god, yes!” She squeals. In a sudden burst of energy, she fucks herself back on your cock. “Come on, give me your cum!”
“Fucking cumslut. You’ll get all of it.”
Your hands grab her waist tightly, pulling her hips right into your crotch. Minjeong plants kisses on your neck and lips, to encourage you. The warmth of her breath itches your ears, causing pleasure to the upper part of your body as well. She surrenders completely to you, allowing you to have your way with her. Or maybe it was the other way around and you were her slave, fucking her just how she wanted. 
You couldn’t let Minjeong standing there. You turn around and give your attention to her breasts. They are just the right size to fondle, and you do so generously upon discovering how sensitive they are. You roughly sick on her nipples, pulling on them with your lips and licking them to make her squirm and whimper. She hugs your head, pleading you to continue. 
“Oh God, it only took you one girl to get this good?” Winter mumbles.
“Fuck!" she swears right after. Just like Minjeong, of course, like her clone, she is a messy squirter. 
Winter’s spurts make a total mess of your room. Her climax is intense and drenches the whole floor. Spurts of squirt shoot out from her hole onto the tiled surface and your body, causing her to grip your shaft so tightly that it completely overwhelmed you and triggers your orgasm as well. Although your moans are embarrassingly loud, they are drowned out by Winter's ecstatic cries.
Her cries are shrill compared to the mature and seductive tone she had blessed you with until now. You don't pullout, you can’t. To do so would be to defy her orders. 
You pour all the rest of your cum inside of her with the assistance of the spasm of her vagina, which milked you till the last drop. It takes you a couple of minutes to recover from the mind-numbing orgasm when you finally pull out to witness your cum rushing out of her pussy.
Winter laughs with satisfaction, laying lifelessly on the bed, her hair disheveled, her body ruined. You lean into Minjeong, who was holding you on for support.
“That was your third load? It was so much,” Winter said. “God, I’m sure would have gotten pregnant if I was human…”
“Wait, what about me?”
The color drained from Minjeong’s face, her smile disappeared as the weight of the situation sank in. The fun and excitement of the moment evaporated, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. Your hands hands, which had been vigorously grabbing Minjeong’s waist, now clenched nervously. Her heart pounded as they exchanged worried glances.
“Right,” you said. “I- I just came inside of you.”
“What’s gonna happen?” she asked you.
“You might— no, you will definetly get pregnant.”
“Don’t worry guys,” Winter said. “I put a little spell on you, you won’t get pregnant.”
“Really?!” you almost screamed.
“Yeah,” she said.
The tension in the air broke like a popped balloon. You and Minjeong’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and you let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Your hearts, which had been pounding moments ago, began to slow to a normal rhythm. Your clenched hands opened, and a tentative smile returned to your face. Minjeong’s eyes, wide with worry, softened with immense relief.
You glanced at each other, grins spreading as the weight of their fears lifted.
"I really thought I messed up," you said, your voice filled with a mixture of amusement and relief.
Minjeong’s face flushed a deep crimson as she started speaking. “Uhm… and how long does this spell last?”
“Oh my god,” Winter laughed. “You want him to cum inside you again?”
“No! No– I mean…”
“To celebrate you two I’ll make it last a week, just for you two.”
“Oh, thanks…” Minjeong smiled shily.
“Well, my job here is done,” Winter said, standing up on her wobbly legs. You could see the cum still dripping down her legs, with droplets of squirt painting the floor.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” you said.
“Yeah, thank you,” Minjeong repeated after you.
“I had fun guys. Farewell,” she said one last time and disappeared with sparkles falling to the floor. 
Both of you remained still for a few seconds reflecting on what just happened.
Minjeong played with her fingers absentmindedly, her thumb circling around her ring finger. You watched her, your eyes tracing the curve of her hand, the gentle movements of her fingers. The moonlight shined on her skin, her completely naked body. With your lust completely drained, she looked a lot smaller than before.
“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was gentle and intimate. “What are we now?”
You looked up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were trembling. “What are we?” you echoed. It wasn’t a nice conversation with the both of you smelling like sex and sweat, but it was necessary.
She nodded, waiting for your response. “Yes. You and me. What are we?”
“At this point… you already know how I feel about you,” you said. “And I guess I also know how you feel.” You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “I want us to be together.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his again. There was a flicker of something there, a spark of understanding. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked, the words tentative but hopeful.
"Yes," you said, the certainty in your voice surprising even you. It was the first time you were this honest. "Boyfriend and girlfriend."
Minjeong smiled. “Good. I felt the same.”
“Glad we got that out of the way,” you said. “But let’s get cleaned up now.”
Minjeong giggled. “You’re right. Wanna go in together?”
“You… are you not tired?”
“You know, unfortunately, we didn’t get a clone of you to tell me exactly the whole truth about you, so I am not totally convinced… Take my doubt away. Show me how much you really love me.”
THE END
Written, January 5 2024 - June 26 2024
2K notes · View notes
theglamorousferal · 4 months
Text
Persephone's Binding Part 1
Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au
AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Fuck me, that's what I get for not wearing my helmet tonight. Jason came to with numb hands and legs, burning shoulders, a gag tight in his mouth, and a pounding headache. His ears rang and a groan escaped his throat before he could keep quiet. He slowly cracked an eye open and when he wasn't blinded took stock of the situation he was in. He was kneeling, tied to a post behind him and in the middle of what appeared to be a magic circle of some kind. At the edges of the circle there were candles, a bright Lazarus green, and beyond that were robed figures.
Great, cultists. Perfect. The ringing in his ears started to fade as chanting filled the room. After the first repetition of unfamiliar words the flames of each candle one by one turned black, and once it came around, the edges of the circle started to glow bright green. The glow followed the path written in what Jason assumed was blood until the entire thing was glowing bright enough that Jason had to squint to try and make out any of the symbols and commit them to memory, any little thing could be a clue after all.
As the chanting got louder and louder, the glow shone brighter and brighter. He could feel a build up of energy and his hair began to stand on end like lightning was about to strike. The light became blinding and the pressure in the air built up until he felt he couldn't breathe, he could smell ozone in the air and suddenly the light returned to normal, he collapsed forward and his cheek hit carpet.
"Oh my Ancients! Are you alright?" He heard a feminine voice say and let out a pitiful groan. "That's probably a dumb question, one second let me grab something to cut those ropes and I'll help you up."
He heard shuffling and opened his eyes to a purple shag carpet with the magic circled burned into it and registered the ozone scent shifted to a burning smell. He tried moving his arms and yelped in response. He heard a thud and a quiet curse as his apparent savior stopped rifling through their drawers with a quiet "Aha!" He turned his head towards the sound and his mind stuttered to a halt for a moment.
Stood there, with a sword at least as long as the Demon Spawn is tall, was a woman Jason would expect to find in Themyscira. She stood almost seven feet tall with long red hair pulled back into a high ponytail braid, a helm-like crown adorning her head. Muscled shoulders had a black capelet from one and a pauldron on the other. She wore golden bracers like Wonder Woman on her forearms and armor similar in shape, but black with a symbol blazoned across the chest, under the armor she wore a teal toga. He turned his attention to her face and found a sheepish expression in those teal eyes.
"I absolutely forgot I had my sword with me today because of the council meeting. Let me just-" she quickly strode forward and cut first his feet and then his hands free, and after giving up on the knot, carefully cut the gag from his mouth. She knelt down and helped him to sit more comfortably. "Do you think you can make it to the couch? it's very comfy, I use it when I need a break between council meetings."
Jason tried standing and his legs protested feeling like pins and needles and tv static. He shook his head and she nodded thinking to herself. "Okay then, here."
Jason blue-screened as he realized he was suddenly being held in a bridal carry by this woman like it was nothing. He blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears as she carried him to her honest to god fainting couch and placed him upon it like a swooning maiden.
"So, um, hi, my name is Jasmine, please just call me Jazz regardless of whatever you hear anyone else here call me. Do you need some water? I'm gonna order some water, and some painkillers maybe? Honestly, I'm just gonna ask them to send one of the yeti healers to take a look at you and I'll need to ask someone who can read ghost speak to translate whatever brought you here." She rambled and made her way to one of the doors and spoke with someone just outside.
Jason laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and trying to get himself focused on the situation at hand. So facts so far: he was just used as a sacrifice of some kind, he was teleported somewhere unknown to him at this moment, and whoever he was sacrificed to seems to be some form of royalty and was arguably the most attractive and so far kind woman he's ever met. He nodded to himself and carefully pealed the red domino mask from his face.
"Jason." He said to her as she turned back to him after closing the door. She stopped for a moment, eyes wide. "My name, it's Jason."
She blushed a moment. "Right, yes, nice to meet you Jason, I wish it was under literally any other circumstances." She said walking forward to shake his hand.
"So, uh, where are we?" He asked, gesturing to what Jason assumed was a window, but wasn't certain because the sky was green and purple and had floating doors and islands in it.
She closed her eyes and seemed to take a fortifying breath. "Right. What do you know about the supernatural, besides the obvious that apparently magic circles work?"
Jason thought about what he could say here. Should he bring up his time in the All Caste? Should he bring up the Lazarus pits? I don't know enough about the situation yet. "I know that magic is real, kinda hard not to what with heroes like Zattana and Raven making headlines and the fact the city I live in is hella cursed."
He watched some tension leave her shoulders, but not all the way. "Good, I won't have to go over that particular world-shattering revelation, though I'll probably ask you more about those heroes you were talking about, I haven't heard of them." Jason was stunned for a moment, but she continued. "We are in a sort of, Between. We are in the Infinite Realms, the existence between existences. The Infinite Realms is the space between the dimensions of the multiverse. We are currently in the castle of the ruler of the Infinite Realms, more specifically my office." She hesitated before continuing. " I'm, sort of, the Queen Regent actually." She said embarrassed.
Jason processed that for a moment, and she let him. So, the multiverse is real, and he was apparently just sacrificed to the ruler of the dimension between dimensions. She let him sit with that information, letting him come up with his own questions, when there was a knock at the door.
"Excuse me your majesty, you called for a healer and scholar? I had not left yet from the earlier council meeting and figured I could be of assistance." A tall yeti with ice for one of his arms and frozen horns atop his head appeared in the doorway. What also appeared seemed to be a literal skeleton that pushed a tea cart with a pitcher of water and little finger sandwiches on it into the room and left again.
"Frostbite! Perfect, first, can you take a look at Jason, he was apparently sacrificed and judging from the blood in his hair he at least has a head injury. Then the circle he appeared in burned itself into the carpet, I'm still not great at reading ghost speak, especially in an older dialect, I can't figure out what it says." Jazz spoke in a rush as she walked toward the cart to get some water for Jason.
Frostbite had a kind smile as he turned to Jason and pulled out a first aid kit from seemingly nowhere. "Yes, hello, you must be Jason. How are you feeling? What hurts in particular?" Jason went along with the examination, and gladly accepted the glass of water from Jazz as she handed it to him. "Well it looks to me like you mostly just need to rest and maybe take some painkillers. Here," The yeti carefully handed him a small cup with two over-the-counter pain pills in it. "Alright, now let's take a look at this circle!" He stood to his full height, carefully ducking to avoid knocking his horns on the chandelier. He observed it for a moment, humming to himself from time to time. "Right, so this appears to be a binding ritual, somehow tied to the Solstice celebrations. Typically it entwines the soul of the sacrifice to the being they were sacrificed to. Somewhere in the archives there is likely more information about it, but you'll probably have to spend quite some time searching."
Jazz looked pained for a moment. "Okay, do you think it can be broken?" Her face showed hope, but with an underlay of resignation.
Frostbite thought for a moment. "There are some, though most are permanent. I can send over some of my scholars to help locate the correct ritual, I would suggest asking the Master of Time as he would know for certain, but you know how they can be." He straightened before bowing to both Jazz and Jason. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Queen Regent and Lord Jason, I must make my way back to the Far Frozen to gather those to help your search. Good day." With that, the yeti left the two of them alone.
Jazz sighed heavily and put her face in her hands. She growled, frustrated, before she straightened after having made a decision. "Okay, so you're probably going to be staying her for a little while while we figure all this out. Let me show you to a room so you can rest a bit, and I'll have one of my aides bring you some clothes so yours can get washed too."
She led him through the passageways of the gothic castle, it's black stone bricks and tapestries of silver seeming to glow. They stopped at the third of a row of doors and went inside. The room was large, twenty-foot ceilings and a bay window with a sitting nook framed by two large bookcases stood across the room. A massive bed with an intricate quilt portraying what seemed to be a battle between supernatural entities was braced against one wall with a grand fireplace on the opposite wall.
"The door to the left of the fireplace leads to the bathroom, the first thing I did when I took over was make sure there was hot water and large soaking tubs in all the bedrooms here. There should be bathrobes of varying sizes in the closet that offshoots the bathroom. If you need anything, I'm probably going to be in my office for the next few hours and there is always the bell by the door for stuff like, food or whatever. Um, I guess I'll leave you to it?" She shuffled nervously out the door, leaving him standing there, hand half raised in an awkward wave goodbye.
He chuckled to himself for a moment before striding over to the bed and sitting down to start unstrapping his body armor and boots. Once stripped to his boxers, he made his way to the bathroom and was pleasantly surprised to find not only a large soaking tub, but also a shower with a bench to sit. He quickly showered all the grime from the last few hours from his body, careful to get the matted blood in his hair untangled. Once finished, he started filling the tub before walking towards the closet where he found not only bathrobes, but also bath salts and bath bombs. Deciding to indulge, he grabbed one of each in similar enough scents and dropped both into the bath tub before easing himself into the hot water. He hissed at the temperature before it started easing the aches across all his muscles. He shut off the faucet and then leaned back and allowed himself to think.
So, he thought, I am in an alternate dimension, in the castle of the extremely attractive Queen Regent of said dimension, and my soul is apparently bound to her for the foreseeable future. He thunked his head on the walls of the tub contemplating the facts laid before him. He startled, shooting forward with his back straight.
"Wait a minute!" He said to himself. "Wait a god damned minute!" He smacked his forehead with his hand and ran it through his hair. "I'm in a romance novel plotline! Bound to an entity of unknown power against my will, but the entity is actually a kind and beautiful woman! Holy shit! I can't screw this up!"
Decision made, Jason Peter Todd, closeted romance novel enthusiast, began to plan.
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bluecollarmcandtf · 4 months
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Bros, Bros, and more Bros
I made a mistake! My cousin told me about this fortune teller that cast a spell on him. Apparently, it made every man he ran into act like a fatherly figure in his life. I had an awesome dad, but I've always struggled to connect with guys my own age, so I tracked the witch down and begged her for another spell. She eventually came around, but the effects aren't quite what I expected...
"Sup, dude! Wanna skip and hit the park?"
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My eyes stretch wide to take in the sight of my own father, carrying a skateboard over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's been acting like this for weeks; not washing his hair, barely even washing himself, and constantly wearing that stupid cap backwards. He's lost any sense of his old self!
"Dad, it's Monday. You've got work," I reply, not wanting him to piss his boss off.
"Work blows!" he sneers, "I hate wearing this stupid tie, and I'd rather hang with you, bro."
I sigh as my father tosses down his skateboard and extends a palm, pulling me into a cliche bro-hug where he claps me on the back. My dad used to give out hugs all the time, but it was never as performatively masculine as this. All this stupid curse did was turn my father into an 40 year-old frat guy.
"You're going to work," I say firmly, "And I'm going to school. We can play videogames or whatever when we get back later tonight."
"Bruuhhh!" he groans, "Fine. I'll catch you later, dude. There's pizza in the fridge if you want."
The idea of leftover pizza this early in the morning makes my stomach ache. My dad used to cook an entire meal every morning, complete with fruits and veggies. Now, he'd probably settle for a bag of chips.
The man leaves the skateboard behind and grabs his suit jacket, pulling it on with an attitude. He gives me one last head nod before bounding out of the house, hair flowing behind him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before my dad's boss is fed up with his new persona. I can't imagine a bro-personality is very conducive to getting work done in a corporate office. Hopefully, he'll mature soon.
With an empty stomach, I saunter out of the kitchen and walk to campus. I'm grateful to live close to the university. Hopefully, my curse won't get in the way of my day.
"Hey, how's my favorite student doing, bro?"
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My professor yells and breaks into a goofy grin at the sight of me. I close the door to his office to give us a bit of privacy. Mr. Carlton only acts like this when I stop by, so his colleagues would be shocked to see such a drastic shift in his usually stoic personality.
"I'm good, Professor Carlton," I say, "I wanted to check on my grade for this course."
"No need to be so formal, dude," he smiles, clapping me on the back, "You can call me Daniel. Want a drink? I have some bourbon."
"I'm good. I really just-"
"Relax, bro," my professor says, shoving a glass in my hand, filled to the brim, "This is good stuff. I save it for special occasions, so sit down! Kick your shoes off! I don't care!"
The department head pulls off his suit jacket and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and stretching his arms behind his head. I'd never seen the man act so unprofessional, but ever since the curse, he's started treating me like his closest buddy.
"Professor...sorry...Daniel, I just wanted to hear about my grade."
"I got you, bro!" he laughed, "Just keep doing what you're doing. I don't care if you don't show up!"
My shoulders relax. That's what I want to hear. It's not that I don't want to attend his lectures, but the last time I did, he started acting like a jackass in front of the entire class of 50 students. His presentation went from ancient monetary systems to ratings of best celebrity nip-slips. It's a miracle he didn't get fired!
"Ok, good. I have to go," I say checking the time, "And you have class in 20 minutes."
"Shit, I know," he groans and gulps down the rest of his booze, "Another day another dollar, I guess. When can we hang out, man? Tonight? I really wanna hang out with my guy."
"Nope, sorry!" I tense up and grab my backpack, "Good luck with the lecture."
"Right on, bro," he holds a sad hand up for a high-five, swallowing the rest of the drink he poured me.
I give my tipsy professor a halfhearted clap and scamper out of the office as quickly as possible. These interactions make me cringe so hard when a grown man acts young and cool for me. It's especially awkward to see such a respected individual sink to such a low level. What would we even do if he came over?
"Dude! Long time, no see!"
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In the hallway, I run into the football coach and two of the team's best players. The three of them look like they're getting back from an early morning conditioning session. They're all sweaty, panting, and happy to see me.
"Oh, hey," I muster, feeling increasingly less cool around these jocks. I hate to admit it, but guys like this wouldn't give me the time of day before I got that bro-curse.
"Hey, man! You gotta come hang out with us," the brunette grins, "The team's still changing, but you're cool to come in the locker room!"
"Yeah, bro!" the blonde quickly adds, "We'd love to have you in there!"
My heart pounds faster and faster. This is why I've never been able to connect with guys my own age. I find myself boning up every time they look in my direction. Now that these two athletes are practically begging for me to join them in the locker room, my erection is bursting out of my pants!
"We can take care of that too," the coach suddenly mentions, pointing a finger at the tent I'm trying to hide in my crotch.
"What?" I stammer with a dry mouth.
"What do you think bros are for?" the coach continues, clapping his two players on the back, "My boys would be happy to help a brother out!"
The two football jocks nod. It feels like I'm dreaming, and I don't know what to do. Before I can decide, the two athletes have approached and grabbed me by the arm. Their grips are firm, and I realize I'm being escorted into the changing room whether I like it or not!
"Who's this guy?"
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My stomach drops as I enter the locker room, finding an array of footballers in different states of dress. They all glance up at me with confusion, like I'm not supposed to be there, but then their faces soften. The gypsy's magic sets in, and they don't see a stranger when they look at me. They see their bro.
"Oh, it's you, bro," the same jock says, letting down his guard. I think I recognize him as the quarterback.
"Oh yeah, dude!" the massive lineman stands up and pulls me into a sweaty hug, "Glad you're here!"
"That's right guys," the brunette at my side says, still holding me tightly in place, "Our best bud is here, and he needs some attention."
My face flushes as I suddenly remember the problem poking out between my legs. By now, the entire football team is staring at it. If anything, it's only become more rock solid.
"Let me take care of that for you, bro," the quarterback says, grabbing my crotch without any hesitation.
"Move, I'll do it," says the lineman, pushing the quarterback out of the way and getting on his knees. He opens his mouth wide and-
"Shut up, all of you!" the coach suddenly roars! The locker room falls silent: these athletes are really well trained. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Line up!"
"Yes, coach!"
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The jocks back up and form a line in front of the lockers. Even the blonde and brunette that were holding me, release and join the rest of the team on the bench. Suddenly, I'm standing with the coach, looking at an entire team of well-disciplined football players. My throbbing erection is very apparent and pointing right at the small crowd of muscular men.
"Our bro deserves to be kept satisfied, right?" the coach slams a hand on my back.
"Yes, coach!" they shout back.
"So we don't just want to get our boy off once and move on, now do we?" he punctuates his question with another slap, this time lower on my back.
"No, coach!"
"We're going to set up a system for us to get him off whenever he needs it!"
"Yes, coach!"
The broad-shouldered and balding coach gives me one more slap, clapping me on the ass this time while staring into my eyes. "I'm gonna have my boys take turns sucking you off, bro. You just tell me which one's your favorite. Sound cool?"
I manage to mumble my assent, and with one look from coach, the quarterback is on his knees crawling towards my crotch. He pulls down my pants and unleashes my aching hard-on. "I got you, bro," he says, before putting his mouth to work.
After a few minutes, the coach pulls the jock off my pole and orders the linebacker to get busy. Before long, it's the brunette's turn, then the blonde's. I cycle through all 30 of the team's exceptional players, and I've gotten off more than just a few times. It's impossible to choose a favorite.
At the end of it all, the coach pushes the last player aside and says, "My turn, bro," before opening his mouth as wide as he can.
The entire football team watches as I spend the next 15 minutes just filling their coach's eager throat. When I'm finally done, I feel completely spent. I swap numbers with each jock and am repeatedly promised that they will be available whenever I call, but it isn't enough. They want to hang out with me now. They want to go out and party. I find it too difficult to say 'no' to a group of 30 eager athletes, so I let them sweep me up and take me to the nearest bar.
Needless to say, we end up causing a bit too rowdy of a scene.
"I got a complaint about a bunch of college idiots causing a ruckus. Would that be you?"
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The officer was all business when he first walked in the bar. My football bros were dancing and yelling, barely even paying attention to the policeman scowling at the wild scene in front of him. He looked pissed, and his glare only softened when it found me.
"Woah, didn't know you were here, man," the cop says, cracking a slight grin on his hardened face.
"Well, I am!" I cry, feeling the effects of all the drinks my bros had been buying for me, "You should forget about work and party with us!"
"You got it, dude! Screw this badge!" the officer yells, pulling me into a tight embrace. I guess the bro-curse even works on law-enforcement!
Just like that, I'm dancing with a policeman in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't have any moves, but he loosens up after we get some beer down his throat. The football team loves watching the cop party right alongside them. Apparently, this guy has broken up many of their parties in the past.
"Drink! Drink! Drink!"
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The officer gulps down his seventh beer and slams the glass on the floor. It breaks, but the shattering is largely drowned out by the music. His onlookers go wild, but I can see the intoxication on his face. Beer is plastered around his mouth and dripping down his neck to soak into his uniform. I doubt this man has ever been this drunk in uniform before.
He stumbles over and throws a muscled arm over my shoulder, "Come here, bro. Let's do some shots or something!"
"I think it might be time to call it a night, officer," I yell in his ear.
"Oh, screw that!" he whines, "And don't call me officer! It's so formal!"
"Ok, what should I call you?"
"I dunno..." he mutters, "Buck! Call me Buck. That's what my wife calls me."
I roll my eyes at the mention of his wife. Of course this guy is taken. He's a complete stud of man. I've always liked a guy in uniform.
"How'd you like to come home with me tonight, Buck?" I ask sheepishly.
He lights up, "Bro, I thought you'd never ask!"
The cop grabs my arm with a wicked grin and stomps his way towards the door, dragging me along like I'm the prize he won at a fair. The players on the football team all stare at him with envy, mad that he's stealing their new best friend away for the night. I could see how badly each one of the jocks wished they were the one having a sleepover with me tonight.
"Hop in, I'll drive," officer Buck slurs his words and gestures to the police cruiser with his free hand.
"I think I'll handle the driving, if that's alright," I say, "Just hand over the keys."
"Anything for you, bro."
"Looks like someone got lucky!"
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"Oh my God. Dad you're still up?"
"Bro, you said you'd play videogames tonight and then you never showed! What was I supposed to do?" he retorts, unbothered by the late hour or the cop hanging on my arm.
"You have to go to work in 4 hours!" I scream, "And you haven't even changed out of today's work clothes! What are you thinking?"
"Chill, bro," my dad says, turning to the drunk policeman holding my hand, "Take him to the bedroom and show him a good time. I'm sure you were going to, but the dude could use some extra help relaxing tonight."
The sound of my own father encouraging the man I brought home to 'show me a good time' makes me question everything again. My dad just witnessed his son bringing home a cop that's the same age as him. He doesn't even care! I want to tell him to grow up and be the man I used to know, but Buck is already jerking on my arm.
"Let's go, bro," he mumbles lowly, using his strong arms to drag me into the bedroom.
"Enjoy your new cop friend, bro!" my father calls and I hear the sounds of his videogames start back up.
I barely have time to worry about any of it. Has this curse gone too far? Will my dad make it to work tomorrow? Does Buck have a wife I need to worry about!?
It all goes away when I'm thrown on the bed. The intoxicated officer flips the lights down low, and stumbles in front of me. He may be drunk, but he is certainly not a disappointment. The cop stares down at me as he rips his state-issued hat off and unbuttons his dark uniform shirt, all the while moving his hips to the beat of gunfire from dad's videogame in the living room.
With his hairy chest exposed, he crawls on top of me and whispers in my ear, "Where do you want me to start? Us bros gotta look out for each other, don't we?"
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iwaasfairy · 1 year
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┌─ “ ! „ CHALKBOARD AND NAILS
tw. noncon, yandere, dumbification, objectification, daddy kink, some degradation, some praise, threats, brief mention of murder and blood, hair pulling, forced oral wordcount. 4.5k
a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @totalleelee ♡♡♡ here you are my loVE!!! happy late birthday to your friend as well, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! I always like getting to write new characters and Nanami was definitely a fun one. I had to make the fic longer bc I wanted moreEeeeee but yea i just really really hope you enjoy it, and thank you again a miLLIOn for commIng me iM so sO HONOUREDDD
nanami kento x fem!reader
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You should think about what you’re doing. Lying upside down off the couch with your eyes big and long, distracting lashes and your hair hanging; casting playful shadows on the floor when you move. His couch. He’d like to believe you’re doing it on purpose -hell, most people would probably be inclined to- when you’ve got that coy, little smile on your face and your shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of skin above your pants.
He would assume if you had ever dared to come onto him in any way. But you haven’t, and so he can’t, not when you remain the perfectly sweet, kind, respectful graduate they hired only a few years ago— and it makes him too aware of you.
Nanami’s not the prim and proper bootlicker Gojo jokes he looks like; so among the other sorcerers, it isn’t even too illogical that you would cling to him a little. A kouhai dumped on his doorstep when the higher-ups decided to employ them fresh out of school. If it were anyone else, he would’ve complained until the choice was overruled. But you’re not anyone else. He can’t even lie about the fact that he’s grown quite the attachment to you.
Your bubbly, engaged energy and blueberry scented shampoo and cheap coffee in styrofoam cups that you always, always forget to throw away at the end of the day. Your chattering that rings through his brain before he goes to sleep and the way you talk and talk and talk when he won’t. You’re the exact opposite of an enigma, because that would require that you left him with some mysteries, and you don’t have the ability to keep your mouth shut. He hates how easy you wind him around your little finger, and he hates that he hates it.
Nanami’s not a dependant guy- and it seems to be your goal to prove him so fucking wrong.
“Why wouldn’t that be possible? I mean, it’d be hard if suddenly a curse shows up and you’re called up in the middle of the night and have to rush to work, and our rates of serious injury are pretty high. But I think I could make it work! Y’know, communication is key and all that.” Your pretty lips shine as you ramble on. You prop your head onto one arm, and turn over so your leg is basically straddling his furniture. “Have you ever dated a non-sorcerer while you’ve been a grade one, Nanamin?”
He lets out a slow exhale, and shifts his gaze back from the lines of your throat to his book so you don’t catch him looking. “No.”
“Not once? In like twelve years?” You raise a brow like you’ve suddenly discovered he’s some ancient fossil dug up from the canal.
“I prefer not to leave my partners for weeks on end with no explanation because the sorcerer world forbids it— so no. And I didn’t graduate twelve years ago, brat.” With the spine of the book he taps your nose, before getting up from the chair to join you on the couch. The few drinks have been abandoned as you finally let the blood back out of your head and wobble like a deer, blinking too slowly. Even now, you’re pretty. Prettier than he wants you to be, taking in the soft slope of your nose and the pillowy lips and your stupid flush on your face. Brat is right.
“I think I’ll do it,” you declare after a few seconds, and rest your head back into the couch with a pout. “I get lonely. And most sorcerers have giant egos.” He’s not sure if it takes him aback -can’t place the emotion that washes over him a few inches at a time- but he finds himself watching the side of your face a little too tightly. The cogs turn in his head and send some uncomfortable cold to gather in the pit of his stomach. Your lashes flutter and some wetness lines your waterline, and he can tell that you mean it. It isn’t the alcohol, he knows you better than enough.
When you look up at him, your faces are only a few inches apart— soft breaths filling the narrow space between. Has he ever told you he loves you? He’s not a man of too many words, that’s always been more your style than his— so probably not. But he does. So much it carves a gaping hole in his chest upon impact. He doesn’t have to say anything to see the way your eyes flutter shyly with the near perfect closeness. As your silence hangs as the room disappears, his hand twitching on his thigh. Aren’t you partly his like he’s yours? That’s how it should work. It’s the only logical course of action, and so he can’t help but lean in.
You’re just too shy to say anything- right? You wouldn’t hang out with him so much if you didn’t, wouldn’t trust and touch him, or confide in him so much if you didn’t. His heart burns in his chest the closer you seem to get. But before he can finish up the gap, you giggle and back away. “Wow! Hey, we almost kissed.” Your voice is a higher pitch than normal, but still rambly. Fuck. “I didn’t expect you to be so close when I looked up,” your nose and cheeks are burning hot, “you scared me, Nanamin~”
You stand from the couch instead, and lean towards him with that little smile that drives him crazy at night. “Senpai, it’s clearly time for me to go home. I’m getting sloppy.” You are. And as much as he wants to use that as an excuse to grab you by your waist and pull you into his lap, it wouldn’t do any good. Not when you’re too busy running your mouth to understand the consequences. He loves you, but you’re one infuriating little runt. You run your hand through his hair like it’s an intrusive thought, spilling loose locks onto his forehead, and then you smack your lips. “Will you see me to the door at least?”
For not the first time, he blames your loose lips for making it so hard for him.
+
You’re entirely different outside the four walls of his apartment.
It’s a coincidence that he finds himself across the street as he spots you walking under the streetlights with a little jump in your step. You look a different sort of formidable— clinging to the arm of some plain fucking loser that is so very clearly drooling all over you. It’s almost pathetic how easily swayed the guy is, as you bat your lashes and smile at him. And somewhere in the back of his mind, it rings a little familiar, but common sense and logic get pushed down a little under the feeling of anger that he feels bubbling up in him.
Not at you— though he told you he didn’t think it a good idea, you’ve always been a bit dense. In need of protection. It isn’t an option, and Nanami’s responsible for you. He looks out for you. This fucking loser though, is oblivious about anything but the skin your dress is showing off. In the brief few moments he gets to spot you walking off towards your street, that much becomes clear. You love making it hard for him. You’re basically magnetic, dragging him along from whatever chore he was doing to follow behind patiently, getting more and more agitated.
See, Nanami has thought quite often about what he is, and isn’t. You forced him to think it over whenever he found his mind wandering back to you each time it had the chance, squeezing around his cock and whining out your dramatics into his mouth. In his imagination, he’s easy to wrap up into a neat bow. With a begrudgingly growing interest each time you landed on his couch, or trailed behind him like a puppy at work. It’s because of all that introspection that he decided he isn’t a good do-er. He does good, and he is perfectly adequate at doing it too. But he doesn’t do it for the praise of it.
Nanami isn’t a hero. He isn’t a vigilante.
He’s a simple guy with simple wants: you. So there’s only one reason that crystalizes in his mind as he finds himself walking a good distance behind this fucking loser that you’re blinking stars up at. It isn’t a noble one. Just that every fiber in him aches to grab the guy by the back of his neck and kick his head like a soccer ball. You wouldn’t like that much, but he still wants to do it.
You’re beaming and chattering along like you do at such a pace that you don’t even notice that he’s started to follow behind. Hell, you barely even acknowledge a passerby to move out of the way. You’re totally zoned in to your doe-eyed, little fantasies— even as the distance gets closer and closer, and he’s walking down the now familiar streets towards your apartment. And as much as he wants to blame you, he can't. Not really. It’s not like he didn’t know what a sweet little cheerleader you were when you were prancing around his office with the shortest skirts known to man and a coquettish blink of your long lashes. But it’s different when it’s some two-bit, middle aged non-sorcerer with a five o’clock shadow.
It’s different when it isn’t him. Even you must know that. You must feel it.
The sky’s darkening as your conversation goes from enthusiastic to clearly flirty, letting your giggle ring out down the lane— as he makes up the last bit of distance. The guy’s probably musty breath reaching you as he swings his arm over your shoulder, as he pulls you close. As he fills your head with all kinds of promises that he definitely won’t actually meet as soon as he gets your pretty hands around his cock. He knows it, and he knows that even your innocent, sweet personality would take a hit if that happened. You wouldn’t be able to perform well at work, and maybe even your relationship with Nanami would suffer if you got your heart broken.
There’s a very clear path before him that ends right where you’re walking up the steps towards your door, and those pretty lips form words he can’t focus on. He walks up to the door, and only now do you glance behind you and your pretty eyes go curiously wide at him. “Nanami?” You’re so fucking cute. But that stupid fucking arm around your shoulders is in his way. It blocks you from view, and ruins the sight. It’s a bother. There’s only the faintest hints of  jealousy and rage left in his veins - when he gives you a quick nod, then turns towards the guy who’s now got an awfully dumb expression on his face. It reminds him a little of a curse, blank and narrowed and disturbed. He feels eerily calm, really. It’s a simple problem with a simple solution, isn’t it.
“What are you doing here-” you start to say, before you stumble back.
Blood splatters all over, and with an awfully easy motion that stupid head rolls and drops to the floor. It’s quick, and there’s a few seconds where he waits for the resistance. The uncomfortable feeling of guilt. But it doesn’t come—
Until your shaky hand clutches almost painfully onto his shirt, pinching him. “H- Nanamin. What the hell do you think you’re doing? What did you-” You gasp, breaking off into a choked cry when your eyes take in the sight before you, before squeezing your eyes shut entirely and starting to shake harder. “What’s- why?! What did you do? Why did you do that?! I can’t- I can’t even- what- why?!”
You shove him aside, and his foot lands in the mess as you fumble sticking the key into the lock— too shaky to control your own extremities well. But your mouth still hasn’t stopped running. “Stay away! Go away! You’re- I- hick- I don’t wanna look!” You finally manage to get the key turned by the time the tears are making your cheeks entirely shiny, snot running and lip wobbly like a five year old— and sink down into a crouch to start sobbing it out into your arm. “You just killed a-an-” You can’t even make it halfway through without breaking out into another squeak. “F-for no reason. I invited him here- seriously, what’s wrong with you?”
Your face doesn’t come up again for breath until he grabs you by the arm to help you up, and you shove at him again, almost yelling this time. “No, no, no no no! Leave me alone!” This little scene you’re making is gonna attract attention, you know. “Leave me alone, I want to go in!” Before the situation can get out of hand, he pushes your door open enough to toss you inside, and the body after you. There’s a muffled little whimper from you when it lands with a thump on your floor. But as soon as he closes the door, the surge of adrenaline calms.
He just has to explain it to you, give him a minute.
“I don’t wanna- I don’t-”
For some reason, the entire situation winded him, and his beating heart bangs loudly in his chest. He drops his weapon aside and kicks off his shoes, and goes to you— where you’re cocooned in your own arms, knees to your chest. “Hey, it’s-”
“Leave me alone!” you squeak, knocking his hands away from you, only briefly looking up. “Go. Hck- go away!” You’re crying so much that your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. But he still grabs you by your arms and hauls you up into his chest, ignoring the way you make yourself dead weight. Brat. He wants to say it, but he’s pretty sure you wouldn’t be too happy to hear it at this very moment. It’s not like he blames you. He’s always tried to shield you from the more gruesome parts of the occupation as much as possible. Of course you’d be upset. “Nanamin~” you whine.
“Shhh, just calm down. It’s all good now.” His heart still beats so loud. Maybe he was angrier than he first imagined. He carries you -much to your dismay, if your sniveling cries are anything to go off- out of the hall and into your bedroom. Where it smells of perfume and girly body lotion, and so overwhelmingly like you it takes him aback a little. You’re still crying, and still talking- but he does his best to drown it out in favor of explaining. See, he’s always been such a sucker for you. Swallowing down the slight rasp in his voice, he allows you to drop back into your bed, and looks down at you. You’re still pretty even with your eyes clenched closed, and crying like a baby. “There, ‘s okay.”
He runs his thumb along your eyes, then settles down next to you on the plush mattress. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Listen-”
“How can I -hck- listen?!” You’re quick to turn your face away from him, and wrap your arms around yourself a bit tighter— probably unaware of the distracting way you push up your tits that way in that little implication of a dress. Really, Nanami swallows, you can obviously do much better than that loser that’s probably staining your carpet at the entrance. Your lip wobbles again, before you suck it into your mouth. “I don’t know what- or how- but that isn’t okay, Nanamin. I just-”
So again, he tries to get your attention, this time by grabbing your arm. “Just listen. I did it for you- if this was anyone else I wouldn’t have been so pressed.” It’s true. No one is a priority like you are. “I had to.”
“What are you talking about? How- is killing someone- oh god, there’s a dead guy in my house, Nanamin! I don’t k- what am I gonna do? Why would you-”
“I’m trying to tell you something.” His voice is lower and sharper this time, and your eyes finally shoot open to look at him. But it isn't that adoring little look you normally have, and somehow that pisses him off too. You really need to have everything spelled out for you, huh. He loves you though, really, he genuinely, genuinely does. As more than just an equal— if he could, he’d give you everything. He just doesn’t know how to say it, staring back at the wobbly tears on your face. “I love you,” is what ends up coming out, and then a breath.
And he’d say more if you weren’t such a talker.
Your face goes a little distant for a few seconds, before you shake your head. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I will tell you, if you just-”
“I can’t accept that, senpai! You can’t just go around and kill-”
“I was protecting you!”
“From what?!” Before you even give him a chance, a real one, you start righting yourself on the bed and run a hand under your nose. And you stare at him with such disbelief and broken trust that it makes him feel a little dizzy. He doesn’t know exactly how he imagined himself spilling his guts, but it wasn’t like this. “You need to leave. And I need to contact someone from the higher ups to- take care of- I don’t even know,” you sob, “I don’t know how any of this goes. That’s so messed up, Kento.” That’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his first name. Scolding him for a choice he made purely for you. He did this for you. “You need to-”
He can’t let the first time end this way.
“Stop talking.”
“Stop talking?” You echo back to him, and glare, also getting up off the bed and farther away from him— and he can’t help but follow. “What did you think was gonna happen? That I wasn’t going to say anything?” As he gets up with you, you walk back a step, and your eyes flick back and forth between him and the door a few times. But he chases, and you jump in surprise when your back meets the wall, effectively trapping you between the wall and him. “I- Nanami-”
“Kento.”
You barely blink as you take a sharp intake of air, and then hold your hands up to his chest to keep some space between you two. “Look- just- we can talk about this, but I can’t just ignore that there’s a dead body in my house, Kento.” He’s really sick of you talking. You’re lucky he loves your voice so much, because if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t stand for it. Whatever you see in his expression must have you worried, because that slight defiance that remains gets awfully feeble when he reaches for you this time. “You’re scaring me. Please, just- hck- just back up. Let me process this, and then we can talk.”
“No, all your talking just gets in the way.” Your eyes go wide and a wave of heat washes over your features, making you look even more attractive. If he can’t tell you, he’ll just show you. You’ve got it all fucking wrong. What he feels for you is true love. Before you can go on another mad ramble, he grabs you and drags you back to bed, as gently as he can while having his hand screwed tight around your wrist. He wouldn’t ever actually hurt you. As you land on the bed, he holds you down— watching as you open your mouth to talk. But you can’t, because he’s already shoved two fingers between your lips and feels the way your hot, wet tongue squirms as he pushes them down your throat. “There, that’s better.”
Still you’re trying to talk, it’s almost funny. You whine around his fingers and gag when you can’t, breathing his name into an uncomfortable moan that just turns him on. You try to pull your head away, but you can’t. “You’re a lot sweeter when you’re not running your mouth sometimes, baby.” He can’t help it, it just comes out. He likes you so much, and you just look so cute gagging on his fingers and grabbing his sleeve like you’re not sure whether or not to pull or push. Tears start welling up along your waterline when he runs his fingertips over your soft, pink tongue. And his cock twitches in his pants.
That’s the good part, see. Even with all this fighting, you two still get along so well. You make him a better man when he’s around you. At least, in theory. He’s not crazy, he knows that holding you down and making you choke on his fingers isn’t really the best course of action -but you left him no choice- and he’s better off finishing what he started. “If you shut up,” he draws his fingers out of your mouth to start unzipping his pants, “I’ll let you breathe. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you won’t want to talk again.” It’s all up to you, pretty girl. Simple cause and effect. You take one sharp breath as you try to get out from under his weight, but there’s really nowhere you can go.
So you do what you do best, and whine. “Nanami~” It’s a baby-ish little whimper that makes him name sound so fucking good. But still. He grabs your face to squish your cheeks, and stares down at you with such intensity that you keep your cries in.
“It’s Kento.” His voice is a low, soft rumble. He wonder if it gives away the way his body feels right now, standing above you while his cock strains against his pants. They’re getting too tight to be comfortable. “Or daddy- you like that better? Say it.” You shake your head into his grip -but your ears start glowing another color brighter, almost like he’s caught you in a lie. Of course you do. You and him are made to be together. You let out another little squeak before he lets go of you to start undoing his pants. 
That apparently seems to be too much, because suddenly you’re trying to get up as you speak. “No, no, I’m not-” You’re trapped when he forces you back down and now yanks your head back by your hair, making you cry again. “Ow, please senpai— I like you, I really do- but I can’t- I- hang on.” The heat crawls up his neck to his ears watching your eyes go big as the belt falls and his pants go down his thighs. You really do look good on your fucking knees.
“I told you to stop yapping, didn’t I?” He asks in return, and finishes sliding his boxers down, kicking them aside. Then he pulls your face towards his cock and watches as you whine. “Open up for daddy. There’s only one thing your mouth’s good for.” You’re so easy to hold in place, and it sends unimaginable gratification through his body when your little tongue comes out for him. You’re really such a brat, making everything so fucking hard for him. 
You open your mouth enough for him to start pushing inside at just the slightest yank of your hair, making you whine and whimper as you shuffle around between his legs. Your hands come to rest on his thighs, but that doesn’t hold him from sliding the hot head of his cock as far as he can into your mouth right away. You look amazing drooling all over his cock, choking when he starts to move with the most patient moves he can manage. It’s not easy to do much of anything except rock himself on your soft tongue and feel your whining go down his shaft and balls. “There, now you’re making yourself useful. That’s what you do best, hm, fucking brat?”
“Agh, fuck- that’s- such a soft little mouth.” You make him feel heavenly, and by the way you’re shifting down there on the floor -trying and failing to get the friction you want- you’re also feeling it. He can tell by the way you blink up at him so slow, swallowing around him and letting that pretty voice out in the cutest, little moans. Just for him. Only ever for him. “You’re so lucky you’re this fucking cute,” he ends up rasping out, before letting you finally pull back to breathe when you start jittering. “Say something smart again, brat.”
“Agh, daddy,” you sob, drool spilling down your chin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can tell you are. Your big eyes glossy and cheeks hot, you try to get up from the floor, and he yanks you up to turn you over instead. Your little dress rides up too easily, giving the rest of the way when he shoves it up your back. It’s almost embarrassing to see how wet you are, lacy panties soaked all the way through and peeled too easily aside to reveal that needy pussy. And you don’t even deny it, just shiver when he runs his finger up and down your slicked up cunt. “Please.”
He’s such a sucker for you, fuck. It’s almost like you know it. “My little cock slut, look at that. You’re dripping down your thighs, brat.” He spits on your center once before lining up and sliding in, and watching as your little pussy stretches around his cock with some effort— as you let out a lewd, almost desperate whine. “Fuck.” And Nanami hoists himself over you to start fucking into you, hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out, as you open your legs further to let him in. Your back half hangs pathetically over the end of the bed as he fucks into your tight, hot -so fucking hot and wet and beaming- pussy and his balls clap against you. You feel so good it’s hard to hear anything over his own heartbeat hammering wildly against his ribs.
“Daddy feel good inside?”
“Mhm, agh-yea.”
You too, baby. Nothing in the world feels as good as letting your pussy swallow and suck him in deeper, like you’re trying to hold him in that impossibly hot, blissful clutch forever. He can’t even hear much of your whining and moaning and pitiful struggle, but you probably haven’t stopped. You don’t even have the energy to close your mouth, trying to push back to meet his thrusts more even as he bumps against the end of your pussy— and his one hand is squeezed around your neck. But you look pretty this way. You look useful.
“Tell me how much you like me.”“So~ much, so much, fuck. I’m gonna cum, Kento. Daddy.” Your mouth’s still running when he snakes his hand underneath you to start rubbing at your puffy clit, and feels the way his own body starts to tighten when your walls clench wildly around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I want you to cum too, want to feel it- I wanna have you deep inside me forever, ah, ah. Oh, you feel so good, fuck.” It’s almost ironic when he thinks about it. How much he likes you running your mouth like this, begging for more. It’s poetic.
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letoasai · 1 year
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dp x dc 2 Mother Gotham
 I had... zero intention of continuing this.... and i still.. have zero intention of continuing... lol i don’t know how this part 2 happened XD Please enjoy or feel free to take it   ~
Part 1      Master List  Constantine stared. 
He’d had very, very little time to learn everything he thought he needed to know about the Ghost King through his contacts and as an adult, he didn’t like what he’d heard so far. He might not be the most responsible bloke but damn it, he wasn’t okay with a fourteen year old taking on so much pressure after what was likely a traumatic death. 
He learned very little other than how young he was, how well liked he was, and how he’d not only earned the respect of many ancients, but befriended them. A good section of his contacts refused to answer any questions about him at all, stating at they didn’t want to cause trouble for the king. 
It was commendable but fucking frustrating. He had to find his boy and his sister and take them to both Lady Gotham and Batman. He’d had a headache all night. 
Constantine wasn’t a stranger to the occult, not by a long shot. He was rather the Justice League’s resident expert, but his lack of knowledge surrounding Amity Park was inexcusable. He had no idea how an entire town went unnoticed but he was going to find out. 
The amount of liminals in one place was ridiculous but he’d have to actually go there to gather more information on these teenagers. As things were, he was waiting at the Gotham welcome Center at the appointed time and was always startled by the amount of activity there. People coming and going. Gothamites were unfazed by the gloom of the city and newcomers were often transfixed by their first taste of a city that harbored so many curses. 
Few were able to understand that it was Lady Gotham stretching her non-corporeal limbs. 
He’d only been there an hour, and he had no description of these teenagers. He should have just asked Bruce. The man had probably somehow already tracked down everything on these kid right down to their favorite colors, but he hadn’t honestly thought he’d need anything like that. Turns out... he was right.
Constantine had just lit another cigarette when the room got cold. He glanced around the room, eyes zeroing in on a hooded figure, a NASA logo printed across the front. He slid up to a vending machine, pushing a dollar in and punching in the numbers for whatever snack he wanted. 
The kid was so unassuming. He could have been any random teenager. The strangest thing about him was that he had a thermos dangling off his belt and stars had been drawn on his shoes in what looked like marker. 
He bent to pick up his snack, but when he turned, he was already pinning Constantine with a stare. 
He wasn’t used to a kid being the one to pick him out in a crowd, but this one…well… Constantine wasn’t about to question his qualifications as royalty. When Constantine did nothing, the teens head cocked to the side in confusion. It was a far too long moment where they did nothing but stare at one another from across the room. 
The staring contest was broken when a red headed young woman exited the nearby bathroom and slid up behind her brother, a hand on his shoulder and a question on her lips. She was definitely liminal, and not as human as they both likely had been once. Not that that mattered to him. It was just one more piece of information to file away for later. The Ghost King silently nodded in his direction, and now there were two piercing gazes in his direction.
 There was something about the sister he couldn’t put his finger on but it would be a bloody cold day in hell before he purposely pissed her off. She was definitely the type to be her brothers keeper, and someone with that kind of sway over the Ghost King was no one to fuck around with. 
He inhaled once more, enjoying the smoke filling his lungs before he hauled himself off the bench he’d been occupying to head towards them. 
“Welcome to Gotham. I’m your one man welcoming committee.” He greeted.
 “Who sent you?” The redhead asked. 
“Got a name?” The Ghost King asked right after. 
They were paranoid, but he didn’t blame them for that. Whatever had them running likely wasn’t friendly. The boy's eyes were rimmed with dark circles and there were bruises along his jaw and neck. His sister wasn’t injury free either. She was holding one of her arms to her chest. Possibly a dislocated shoulder or elbow. “John Constantine. Member of the Justice League Dark.” 
He never would have introduced himself like that normally but he was dealing with a King and well... spooked kids. 
“Dark?” The brother and sister exchanged a look. 
Constantine grunted. “We deal with the magical nasties and what not. I was summoned to Gotham to greet you, Majesty.” 
The Ghost King didn’t wince, but there was a tick to his jaw.  “Danny.” He corrected. “This is my sister, Jazz.” 
“Who was it who summoned you?” Jazz asked, her good arm wrapped around one of her brother’s. 
Constantine nodded to Danny. “His mother. Dunno your full story, but i was led to believe this was your actual mother.” 
Danny’s lips pinched. “That is what Clockwork said…” He muttered to his sister who nodded, though she didn’t look overly trusting. 
“And you have no connection to the GIW?” She bulldozed right through. 
Constantine’s eyes narrowed. “Bloody fuck is that?” 
They exchanged another look. “The Ghost Investigation Ward.” 
“The fuck?” He inhaled again, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth. “What’s their problem?” 
Danny’s brows lowered, a soft, quiet, and mostly certainly deadly sort of anger in that look. “Hunting and experimenting on my people for sport.” 
Constantine tsked, but it did nothing to truly betray how pissed off that made him. “Sounds like a couple of pretenders messing around in my neck of the woods. Thanks for the tip. I’ll be looking into that.” He paused to pull out his cell phone and make a note of them. “No, I’m a right bastard for sure but meddling with the Infinite Realm is a major no-no.”
The Ghost King’s ire lessened somewhat, but the faint glow to Jazz’s eyes hadn’t yet waned. “Why were you picked to escort us?” 
“Probably because i’m one of few around that could hear the call. Your mother has been making arrangements for the both of you. I’ll take you to her first and then to where you’ll be living.” They weren’t a very trusting pair, but he had to assume they had every reason to be cautious. 
Danny finally heaved a sigh and took his sister’s hand. “Fine. It’s a leap but only a lunatic would claim to be in the Justice League when they weren’t.”
 Constantine didn’t react to that, he didn’t want to worry the kid about how many lunatics there actually were. The laugh he’d have over this kid looking like Wayne adoption bait would have to wait. 
“Besides, one wail will take out a good chunk of Gotham, so i’m sure you won’t do anything stupid.” Danny continued. 
“Noted…” Constantine said dryly. He was getting shitfaced tonight. 
~
 Danny rather liked Gotham. Sure he’d barely seen any of it but the ambient ectoplasm was more than enough to sustain him. There weren’t many people who could say that kind of thing energized them but Danny sure could. Jazz could to a lesser extent. It was almost like home, except hopefully less volatile. 
Constantine showed them to his car that smelled like alcohol, cigarettes and magic and took off with them. He didn’t even seem to mind Danny opening and eating his bag of chips. He knew Jazz wasn’t in a trusting mood. He wasn’t either but Clockwork had told him bits about his mother. Had told him to follow his core and he’d find his mother. So far… he was satisfied with the direction they were headed. 
He stifled a yawn but tired tears sprung to his eyes anyway. He had no idea what time it was anymore. Gotham was so dark but there were people out on the street. It could have been noon or midnight and he was too lazy to even pull out his phone and check. It didn’t matter when his master plan was to get himself and Jazz somewhere safe and then sleep for hours. 
When Constantine finally pulled his car to a stop and got out, it had started to drizzle just a little. It wasn’t enough rain to even really get them wet, it was just vaguely annoying. The streets were startlingly vacant compared to the ones they’ve driven passed before and this was obviously an older section of the city. 
Having just arrived, Danny and Jazz didn’t know all the districts in Gotham yet but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that this wasn’t main street. Constantine headed towards an old bridge, pieces of it having crumbled away from age but the architecture had obviously once been top tier. 
“Where are we?” Jazz asked, keeping close to Danny, her voice only just above a whisper but Constantine heard her. 
“The meeting point.” 
Danny frowned, but he held out an arm to keep his sister behind him. His core fluttered in his chest, and he recognized that something was coming. He tried to pinpoint exactly what it was but the feeling was something altogether new though it reminded him of Clockwork or Pandora. 
With a gentle wave of power, she appeared. A woman, cloaked with gargoyle like features. She could have been made of stone but she approached them cautiously. “Daneil.” She whispered, and he felt her voice wash over him with emotion. Pride. Pride. Pride. Regret. Pain. Joy. 
Confused. Relaxed. “Was that my name?” he asked. He’d been so terribly small when the Fenton’s had caught him but he could see how his name could have gotten twisted around at some point. “Are you…?” 
Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. 
“This is Lady Gotham.” Constantine said, probably for Jazz and Danny’s benefit. 
She moved, fazing in and out of existence and stopping just out of reach. “Son…” she whispered, the emotion nearly dropping him to his knees. All of her attention was on him. When was the last time he’d had that from a parental figure? 
Danny stared back at her, her green eyes so familiar. He reached up to touch his cheek under his own blue eyes. It was a wonder she could even recognize him. Sure he felt the same but he was half human. Half alive. That didn’t matter to her? 
Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. 
Danny exhaled shakily, falling into his shift. The rings of light circled around his middle before spreading out and revealing his ghost half. White hair topped with a black crown and green eyes matching the spirits. 
Constantine cursed softly under his breath, taking several steps away. 
“Oh, don’t be a wuss.” Jazz chuckled. “He’s not after you.” 
“Not taking any chances with all that,” he said. 
Danny couldn’t help his faint smile at that. “Daneil.” Lady Gotham reached out slowly, cupping his face. She didn’t feel like stone for all she looked like it. She was cool to the touch and he wondered what her core was. She felt familiar. Like he’d met her before. That made sense if she were his mother but after all this time, there was this connection that clicked into place.
 I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Lost you. Lost you. 
Here now. Here now. “It’s okay.” Danny muttered, barely even registering that the bruises on his face were disappearing. “It’s not your fault.” He dared to move, stepping into her space to hug her. She trilled in affection, holding him tightly while Danny chirped his automatic response. When was the last time Maddie had hugged him? 
Jazz could make him purr or chirp in affection but had his parents ever? He’d known Lady Gotham for all of a handful of minutes and already he felt safe in her haunt. It was far safer than his in Amity. 
Welcome. Welcome. Missed you. Missed you. “Daneil.” She said his name like a prayer. Voice quiet but filled with affection. 
“Guess i’m staying here for a while.” He muttered, his core humming. He pulled away from the hug, silently wondering if he’d ever grow horns or something like Lady Gotham when he glanced back over at his sister. She was waiting patiently, still cradling her arm. He’d managed to pop it back into it’s socket but it was terribly tender. “What do you think?” 
“I’m staying if you’re staying.” Jazz said simply. 
“Good child.” Lady Gotham whispered. She vanished from in front of Danny and reappeared next to Jazz. Thank you, Thank you. Thank you. 
Jazz couldn’t always make out the words in emotions but she felt them all the same. Her smile was warm. “He’s my little brother. I love him. I had to come along.” 
She hadn’t. She could have lived a normal life. She could have left him behind. She didn’t have to act as his shield when their parents found out about him. She didn’t have to but she did. She’d never abandoned him. 
Welcome. 
“We’ll figure it out, Jazz. Promise.” 
Lady Gotham reached slowly, taking Jazz’s hands. Thank you. Her immense power shifted again and Jazz gasped in surprise. Danny raised a brow but grinned at the drop of Gotham’s power that flowed into his sister. It sped her healing up, taking away the ache in her arm. He guessed Jazz would become a stronger liminal than she already was. 
Constantine cursed again. “This just doesn’t happen…” he muttered. 
Danny could tell though, his mother was amused. 
“Jasna.” Lady Gotham spoke clearly, pleased with herself. 
“Wait… what?” Jazz looked confused, trying to read the emotions that were being sent to her. It was a mouthful, and amounted to… The sister of my son is also mine. 
“Renamed by an ancient…” Constantine was shaking his head, pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket. Names were powerful… you couldn’t just hand them out… But he was not about to argue with Lady Gotham. 
Danny snickered. “You can still keep your nickname, Jazz.” He felt… calm. He was happy to be here. He liked Gotham because it was safe and his mother was here and everything suddenly felt like it would be okay after all. He and Jazz could start over. 
“Jasna…” Jazz repeated, testing it out. “Thank you.” After everything that had happened.., she could use a mother figure.
Lady Gotham seemed so satisfied. She turned back to Danny, hugging him again, even the wings on her arms fluttered with delight to have her child back. 
My son. My son. 
Danny smiled, wondering if it was like this for all ghost children when their parents were near. He’d have to call Ellie and have her swing by to see if she felt the same way he did. “We’ll figure everything out…” He paused and looked back at Constantine. “You were taking us somewhere else too?” 
“Yeah.” He was flicking his lighter on and off, likely considering another smoke. “Lady Gotham is entrusting you to someone who will also have a hand in keeping you safe. She hand picked him and everything.” 
“We just need an apartment… and…” Jazz frowned a little. They’d talked about it a little and Danny had hated the idea of his sister giving up on school for even a week. 
“Not necessary.” Constantine said dryly. “You’ll be fine.” 
“Where…are we going exactly?” Danny asked, looking at his mother again. He was so strangely pleased that they had the same eyes. 
She laughed, actually laughed. He felt her excitement in her bones. She pointed up into the air and only a few beats later, the bat signal was spread across the sky, glowing against the smog and clouds. 
“That’s…” Jazz blinked, who could have planned for this? 
“No way.” Danny stared at the glowing signal. Everyone knew what that meant. He looked to Constantine again who only nodded his confirmation. His mother was still laughing, enjoying the moment. “We’re staying with Batman!?” ~~ ~~
I really didn’t intend to continue this, i’m not sure it’ll happen again. I have no confidence in writing for the Batfam. If anyone is interested, go for it. 
Tag list. 
@meira-3919 @choppedphantomsweets @kisatamao @thewondersoflebanon @emergentpanda-blog @epilepticnerd @paroovian @blep-23 @addie-lover-of-stories @phoenixdemonqueen @bianca-hooks123 @crystallicedart @observethevoid @jaytriesstuff @skulld3mort-1fan @icedbluesoul @rosecinnamonbun @nixthenerd @oterion @lexdamo @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @villian-lover7899 
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chaoticallyfluffy · 2 months
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Tw for drugs, but not addiction. All light hearted.
I like to imagine that when he became the Champion of Magic, Billy was wildly irresponsible and did insane things to test his powers. The second he finds out he’s bullet proof he launches a dumpster into the stratosphere to see if he can survive being crushed by it when it falls, jumps off of a building into a pile of knives, and flies into the sun just to see what would happen.
Then he wonders if his invulnerability includes his insides as well and shovels a handful of shattered glass into his mouth. When he’s still perfectly fine he drinks a can of bug spray, and when he’s still fine he drinks bleach and rat poison and the brown water from the faucet at the abandoned building he’s staying at. None of them affect him (they tasted nasty though).
After a few months he’s got a pretty decent grasp on his powers and their limits but then he takes down a drug deal and during the commotion drugs were scattered everywhere and by now he knows he’s immune to everything he’s injested, so drugs probably would affect him either right…?
He sticks a finger into a big pile of spilled drugs and licks it before he can consider the many reasons he should Not do that. Then he panics because he did NOT think that through and why did he just stick random illegal drugs into his mouth?! He just stands there shaking, thinking he’s going to jail and that he accidentally just gave himself an addiction or something, but when doesn’t feel anything after half an hour he calms down and continues on with his day like nothing happened.
Obviously he learnt nothing from this and every time he defeats a different type of drug ring he impulsively licks just a bit of it out of curiosity. After a few years of this it’s just a ritual for him to taste test pretty much any suspicious substance he doesn’t recognize. Any type of drugs, potions, glowing chemicals in evil looking vials,mud, stinky liquids inside of vases that have been buried in tombs for thousands of years and are imbued with an ancient curse. You name it, he’s tasted it. Most of them taste terrible by the way, but that doesn’t stop him.
Then one day he’s on a mission with the justice league and they end up stranded on a strange planet with none of their tech and trying to figure out what planet they’re on. The ground is made of white powder and Bruce mentions that it doesn’t look like normal sand. If only he had his tools he could figure out what it’s chemical composition is and identify what planet they’re on and how to survive it. So of course Marvel scoops a handful of the ‘sand’ and shoves it in his mouth while the league stares in disguist and horror.
He slowly chews the mouthful, humming thoughtfully before swallowing. “Yup! That’s cocaine :)”
This does not comfort the league and they freak out because
1- Their colleague just ate an entire mouthful of hard drugs and seems entirely unbothered by this fact.
2- Said colleague recognized cocaine by taste despite it not being something you take by mouth so he had more than enough time to spit it out but he swallowed it anyway.
3- this entire planet is made of cocaine apparently and if a single breeze comes and they accidentally inhale it this mission will quickly become much more difficult.
I just think it’d be fun lol.
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hpgal · 25 days
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DC x DP : Those Glowing Green Eyes
CW: Blood, Gunshot Wounds, Violence
TLDR: Danny is on the run from the GIW and ends up in Gotham heavily injured where he gets found by a gun wielding vigilante.
Word Count: 2313
Everything hurts.
But when did it not?
But this time it wasn’t just injury number 67942 causing these aches and pains, though it did contribute to it. The mental anguish of being ran out of my own home and turned away by those I loved. Because I was a ghost. That pain was worse than the wound in my side.
Now the GIW is chasing me across the country and my last scuffle with them left me hurt worse than ever. They’ve been pushing hard this time around, new toys, more numbers. It was ridiculous. Seeing my own family there made me hesitate when they jumped me too. I didn’t react, just stared in horror as my own mother aimed a gun at me and my own father cheered her on.
Despite it all, I am still convinced there is hope. That there was. But when she pulled that trigger, all hope was gone. 
Now, that leads me to the present. Somehow I escaped and now was walking around with a gunshot wound in my side, a bum wrist and I think a head wound in an unknown city. Thank The Ancients for the luck I had with a portal to The Ghost Zone being nearby. I fell through it but had to immediately find another door to the mortal realm when I saw Vlad nearby, who has also been hunting me since this began. 
So here I am, in a dark, dank city. The ectoplasm here is toxic as hell and tastes like multiple smokers' houses smashed together and death. Night was falling and it got cold here fast. That could just be my core or it could be that I am slowly bleeding out. That was unclear at the moment.
Either way, I walked the street looking for shelter, mostly ignored by others or simply stared at. Honestly, I did not mind, I didn’t want the attention. Even with the toxic ectoplasm here I could heal up quickly and bounce back to the Ghost Zone to expel the toxicity of it with the help of the feeder ghosts and be good as new. It was abundant here, not nearly as much as Amity Park but it was a close second. That little fact told me this city reeked of death which meant it was probably also dangerous.
Maybe once this whole my parents and the government trying to murder me passes, I could come back here and purge the toxic ectoplasm as Ghost King. Because that is the only thing left for me to do, become Ghost King since my human life seems to be over. I have no clue what there is left for me to do with everyone I loved and the U.S Government wanting me dead
Too bad I can’t fully exercise that power of King until I come of age next year. I could’ve resolved this and just hid in the Ghost Zone for the rest of my undead life. Vlad wouldn’t be able to touch me then. Curse my stupid half alive and half dead existence, no other ghost would’ve had to wait but the council likes to be a pain in my ass. Probably in spite of Clockwork in all honesty, I half joke to myself.
My mind reels as I think about home, my friends, even Vlad. All of them had turned overnight. Even Jazz, though she showed hesitancy at every turn. Their eyes seemed to have a tinge of red when I saw them attack me for the first time, reminding me of Freakshow and his mind control abilities. That was the only thing I could justify holding out hope. But I didn’t see that in my moms eyes this time when she shot me.
Even Vlad switched from the whole crazed rich fruit-loop routine of trying to make me his son to attempts on my life. By the Ancients, if he were there this last attack and not in the Ghost Zone, I would’ve been dead. I had no doubts about it. It was pure luck that he didn't notice me in the zone.
I grimace as I continue walking, holding my side, warm blood seeping through my white shirt and the bandages I put on it already. My vision and mind feel foggy as I turn a corner, instantly clearing for a moment when my ghost sense activates, sending a shiver down my spine, hair standing on the back of my neck.
Now?
Really?
I nearly groan both in pain and frustration at this change. I look around pissed off only to find a guy in a red helmet across the street. My entire being on edge as I see him. He didn’t look like a ghost but he gave the impression of having an association with ghosts. He had higher ectoplasm in his body than normal. Even more so than most Amity Park citizens. For a second I thought I saw the flicker of a core but just as quickly as I saw it, it goes away. 
Could he possibly be possessed?
The gears turn in my head as everything screams at me that he is bad news regardless. The moment this masked man steps towards me, I muster all the energy I can and start to run, my decision being made. There was no way I could fight in this condition. Every inch of my body, my muscles scream at me for this. My side burns and my vision is blurry at best.
I risk a glance back to see him following and pick up speed. Grateful for my inhuman abilities still being of use despite my injured state. It’d be easy to go ghost or phase through a wall on a normal day but this was not normal, even for me. There are so many ways I could lose this guy but no, I keep running, oblivious to anything except the urge to escape this new, unknown threat.
Him following me all but confirms my suspicions that he is bad news. I mean I saw those guns on his side. They could be loaded with anti-ghost bullets. I’ve been shot once today, I do not plan on doing that again. Ever. He has to be a hired gun by the GIW is the only explanation to this.
At some point in the chase, I look back to see he is managing to keep up with me, which in hindsight made so much sense with my injuries. I turn right only to find this was the wrong choice. Because of course that would be my luck today. I screech to a halt, nearly crashing to meet the dead end head on, a brick wall separating me from escaping. I lean against the wall in frustration before turning to see if he was in the alley yet.
I could just phase- ”Demon brat what have I told you about stepping in my turf?” Damnit.
I am so tired. I am trapped. I am injured. This day just freaking sucks.
I glare at him with as much intensity I can muster. If only I could use my powers, scare him away. Now that he was closer it was clear he was a human who experienced death. Not a ghost. Not a halfa like him, just a human. But if he did that then the GIW would be sure to find me again in no time. And the stranger called me a demon brat. That has to be some sort of slur to ghosts, although I am not familiar with slurs for ghosts. Is that even a thing?
I shake the thought away and focus on him. I look him up and down, taking in his appearance and movements, ready to fight back.
Despite the mask covering his face, I could feel this stranger looking at him up and down despite it being dark. Maybe his mask had some sort of night vision built into it. He was assessing and judging him. And I was doing the same to him between the glares, my superhuman night vision letting me miss nothing in this dark space.
He looked like what I imagined a human vigilante would look like. Except 10 times scarier like he wouldn’t care if he helped civilians or not. Maybe this guy was just here for an adrenaline rush or some other bullshit reason a normal human would act like this. The red mask was intimidating, he was well built and tense, ready to pounce on him like I was on him. Except he wasn’t fighting death itself right now so he for sure would win without me using powers. Maybe he is a hired gun by the GIW with how he is sizing me up.
The vigilante takes a step towards me, “Woah, woah, you're bleeding.” he seems to hesitate but I glare back up to him like a feral animal. This had to be a trick right? The care and concern in his voice wasn’t real.
I backed up against the cool brick wall behind me, sinking into a low stance, ready to jump and fight back. I let the wall support me where it could and where it couldn't, I sucked it up with gritted teeth. I had faced worse before. If I died here I’d probably become a full ghost anyways so I could haunt his ass for the rest of his life, exercising the full power of Ghost King just to be petty for the inconvenience. Serves him right for the scary vigilante routine. Too bad for him, I am scarier and I would not fall for cheap tricks.
I try to make myself as intimidating as possible. Hell, the blood seeping from my head and how ready I was to fight probably made me look like a feral, wounded, animal right now. I mean that is what everyone else thought I was anyways, right? I bare my teeth at him, my canines most definitely unnaturally pointed.
“Seriously, kid? Two can play this game.” The man takes a step closer, I watch, calculating. 
Then his eyes glowed green.
At least that had to be what happened under the mask. I felt the surge of ectoplasm being used when it happened and I snarl at him in response. This would be a harder fight than I thought. How did I miss the ectoplasm tainting him, enhancing him this way? The fact he could willingly do it meant he was trained and well versed in his abilities.
Well shit.
He seems taken aback at my response, not expecting me to not be frightened. Well tough luck buddy. “I can do that too.” I say with venom dripping off my tongue between gritted teeth, not willing to let this guy get the best of me.
I look up at what I presume are his eyes based on his mask and allow my own eyes to flare neon green, brighter than his. A show of power and dominance that some ghosts use to avoid a fight. Maybe I could avoid this fight entirely if he had the innate understanding many liminal beings had when experiencing this with or without knowing what it means. Either way it was clear he knew something.
“I have been hunted, shot, maimed, and tortured by much, much worse.” I threaten. “You do not scare me. And I sure as hell am not going to go down to a nobody like you.” My vision  continues to blur and darken at the edges as the adrenaline from the chase starts to wear down, the rapid heart rate pumping my blood much faster than I need it to be to prevent blood loss as more blood seeps from my wounds. That little trick took more energy from me than I anticipated.
The unknown man looks at me, his body language indicating he was confused and concerned. I nearly wanted to laugh but I needed all the energy in case I had to fight. “Shit.. you’re not Demon Brat. Kid,” he starts, his body relaxing ever so slightly, “you need help, let me help you.”
The man takes another step forward, holstering a pistol. When did he draw that to begin with?
I flash my eyes again, a bit weaker this time as I feel my legs start to buckle under me. No. Not now. I can’t go down now. Panic welling up inside me as I growl at him and try to steady myself against the wall.
“Go away,” I muster, throat dry, “this isn’t your problem.” I manage to say as my last attempts to get him to screw off.
The man takes another step towards him, now in arms reach, “Look, I know a doctor who might be able to help you. She-” I stumble a bit and he reaches out ready to catch me, still keeping from touching me, “Shit- kid. She won’t turn you away. She can help. She doesn’t share the identity of her patients. She treats the Bats. You can trust her if not me”
My body shakes at his words. Or maybe I was shaking the entire time. God it was so cold now. Almost as cold as being dead for real. And man do I have experience with that. My entire body felt so heavy and aches everywhere. It was almost peaceful, in a way. Except I hated how dark my vision had gotten and blurred.
Something about how he speaks and acts, I decide in my haste, wanting to not die a second time to trust him. My body relaxes, no longer ready to fight him. Was it a bad idea? Probably but I did not want to die in an alley this time. My vision darkens and the last thing I remember is falling into his arms as my answer to him.
Please help me, stranger.
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A/N: This was a fic I planned on writing but got burnt out after writing the first chapter so I figured I'd post it here, maybe it'll motivate me to continue it.
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mokulule · 7 months
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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 11
First | Masterlist
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:
Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.
Part 11:
Danny took a running leap and landed lightly on the next shoddily tiled rooftop. He’d lost the midget in the Southside factory district and now he was in some sketchy neighborhood with smaller buildings. It was on ground level, but it seemed almost like it was sunken into a hole as the rest of the city had grown up around it and swallowed it - one of the main highways even went plain over it. 
Danny stopped for a moment catching his breath. The roll of heavy duty cable slung over his shoulder was… well heavy. He looked out over the mishmash of old neon lights and newer LED signs for bars, nightclubs and little kiosks. In the alley next to Danny’s building money was exchanged for services Danny was not sticking around to watch. Blushing, he skipped to the next roof, taking care to land silently. 
He should just disappear, he was far enough away from his own hidey hole and he was tired. He was always so freaking tired.
But…
Well, first off he wasn’t phasing through a night club to go underground. 
And secondly…
Red Helmet hadn’t showed up. 
That was a good thing, Danny told himself frowning, as he walked along the spine of the newest roof, dodging around chimneys. The past weeks had been torture. 
Every time the Red Helmet had shown up it had been so hard not to go to him. He’d wanted so bad to give in, to just for moment heed the call of his core, the promise of companionship, comfort. Refusing that instinct was agony. And Ancients, Danny remembered how he’d looked in civilian dress, in that well worn henley, broad chested and with those big arms, he probably gave great hugs - if only he wasn’t one of the vigilantes trying to capture him… And if he wasn’t absolutely terrifying.
Danny shuddered, remembering how angry he’d been last time, yelling for him to stop. Yeah… Red Helmet was… He was an anglerfish, a lure, a treacherous light in the dark, that he had to resist, and last time he’d shown his teeth. 
Red Helmet not showing up was a good thing. 
Danny stopped and looked up to the cloudy night sky, jaw tight. It was a good thing. Why did he still feel so bereft?
He pulled the goggles down around his neck and rubbed his wet eyes angrily. Fuck it all, he just wanted to go home already!
His only warning was an electrical bzzt and he threw himself to the side instinctively. His eyes widened in fear as he only barely dodged two sticks sparking with arcing lines of electricity. Every hair on his body stood on end. The entire world narrowed in on those two weapons. He jumped backwards, uncaring where it took him he just needed to get away. 
Something hit his back and stopped him. His hands touched brick: wall. One of the sparking weapons was swung in lazy swirls as the dark shape attached to it bent down to pick up the roll of cable that had caught on a small chimney. Danny touched his shoulder, finding it bare of its earlier cargo. His hand tightened into a fist angrily and he cursed himself for not paying better attention. 
The shape got up and while half Danny’s attention was on the electrified weapon, he could now see it was Blue Bird. Danny had encountered him before, though only a couple of times. He’d been the bantering, good natured sort next to the angry midget, and he hadn’t known those sticks he used for weapons could do that.  
Realization ran cold down Danny’s back; Blue Bird hadn’t thought he needed the electricity before, but he did now.
Blue Bird moved and Danny ripped himself free of his petrification. Casting around he realized the wall was not a wall, but a pillar and most importantly neither was a thing that could stop him. It was only at the last second he went intangible and stepped backwards. The metal sticks clanged against the bricks where he’d stood. 
The sound of Blue Bird cursing, was a dull far away sound, as Danny started shaking. He kept a tight desperate hold on his intangibility but still felt himself losing focus. He quickly had to go somewhere. 
He dropped down until he found one of the many flood pipes that handled overflow if the sewers couldn’t handle the pressure. Something that seemingly didn’t happen too often judging by the dry debris left here. You could say what you wanted about this city, but the web of underground channels and tunnels was impressive, and the city was if nothing else prepared. 
He set down carefully and then let go of his intangibility. He was still shaking. His heart was pounding too fast. He wrapped arms around himself and took careful deep breaths even as his body told him he wasn’t getting enough air. But he was, he knew that was the panic speaking. 
He fucking hated electricity. 
Hated it. Hated it. 
You would think he’d be used to it by now. When he died, all the times Vlad shocked him, Vortex, that time Valerie tortured him in a basement, the- He forcefully shut down the thought. 
He should be fucking used to it by now!
But he was not. Especially not when it came out of nowhere like this. He’d frozen. They could have caught him. Danny could not be caught. Could not. Could not. Could not. 
Shakily he breathed in slowly through his nose and let it out. 
They were going to use electricity again. There was no way they wouldn’t take advantage of a weakness like that. 
He’d lost the cable.
Red Helmet hadn’t shown.
And why did he keep coming back to that! Of all things that should be the least of his worries. It was a good thing. It was. 
It just didn’t feel like it.
Oo o oO
Tim didn’t blame Bruce for letting him take point on this. 
After Jason had pointed a gun at him, he was rightfully shaken. Oh, he pretended not to be, but anyone who knew him could tell. There was a furrow edged on his brow even when he played Brucie whenever someone wasn’t directly interacting with him. He was worried and afraid.
And Tim got it. He had been there for everything. He understood how terrified Bruce was of losing Jason again, just as things had been slowly looking up. Bruce was drawing back, which was for the better. The alternative, that Bruce might come to a point where he thought something needed to be done about Jason, was too terrible to imagine. He would do it too, set aside his emotions, and do something, if he thought it was for the best. None of them needed the fallout of a Bruce who’d convinced himself Jason was too dangerous.
He was dangerous. But, thinking of the broken mirror, bleeding feet and tired eyes, Tim thought he was more dangerous to himself. 
It had been a painful realization to make. Tim had gone to Jason, with the mission in mind, only to find that maybe Jason had needed someone to check up on him for him. But even worse, Tim couldn’t be that person, because they didn’t have that kind of relationship. 
It wasn’t fair.
In an ideal world Tim got to be Jason’s annoying little brother. In an ideal world Tim wouldn’t be afraid of Jason. 
 What Tim could do was solve this issue. He took a deep breath and put all his emotions aside, they could wait. He was a plans guy and they needed a plan.
Tim surveyed the mess of papers he’d made of the table, as he’d pulled everything off the evidence board. It was time to start from the beginning. 
He sorted through and found the “meta?” sign, crossed out the question mark, and hung it in the center of the board. 
In the beginning they’d thought primarily that the Ghost used cloaking tech, but the phasing had made that very unlikely, and Duke had all but confirmed the meta theory when he told them he sorta glowed to his senses. He sorted through the papers and trashed those old theories. 
He put the known powers back up, then paused when he found the little scrap with a silly cartoon ghost Dick had drawn and put up in the corner of the original board. It had eventually gotten covered with something else and Tim hadn’t seen it when he took things down.
Now he considered it with a sigh, and pinned it next to the powers. Ghost was as good a codename as any and Tim suspected it was only Barbara who still refused to use it because Dick was obnoxious about it. And, Tim moved on to the picture of the phone to pin it back up, there was the fact that the recovered messages said nothing but “ghost”. So there was some connection. He marked that connection with a piece of string to the cartoon ghost.
The short contact list went up with the phone picture. 
At some point when this was all over Tim needed to take a closer look at that phone. He had no idea how that brick managed to get any signal, much less how all the contacts were out of service when called from that phone, despite some of them actually being in service. Yet, it could somehow call other existing numbers fine, both local, out of state and international. 
It made no logical sense!
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let it go. 
Danny Fenton? went up above meta, they were reasonably sure that was his name. Next Tim took the list of known thefts and dates and hung it up on the left side of the board. Then added Star Lab break in a bit higher up. There was about three weeks in between the Star Lab break in and their first recorded sighting. It could mean anything. He could have stolen numerous things in the mean time without being discovered, or only just gotten to Gotham. 
Tim had scoured crime reports of Metropolis and other nearby cities for thefts that fitted Ghost’s MO, but had found none, so for better or worse he seemed to be sticking to Gotham for now. 
He put up buyer? And building? Underneath. Tim still had the terrible hunch he was building a portal that would end up destabilizing reality, but since he had nothing but his gut feeling to build that on he couldn’t put it on the board - not the board in the cave anyways.
He trashed a few dead end theories, found a scrap of paper that simply said “electromagnetic interference”. He held it in his hand for a moment, something niggling in his brain, but it was only half formed, he turned around and pinned it under powers and let it go.
Next he pinned up the “weaknesses”. Finally, thanks to Dick’s temper, they had something. He’d not been pleased to come home from his mission to the state of things being even worse so he’d gotten serious and treated the Ghost as an actual threat. 
Tim wrote electricity on a new scrap of paper and then put it under weaknesses. He tapped his chin with the capped marker. The Ghost’s behavior was odd. With the abilities he had, why even play chase with them?
He didn’t use the phasing to escape them early on. It was only when Jason entered the picture that began. Was it because the ability had a limit? Did it cost him to use it? Also what prompted the odd reaction to Jason that first night? And what about it made the Ghost so desperate he’d disappeared on them as soon as Jason was in sight?
Tim grabbed a new scrap of paper and pulled off the cap on the marker. He had to resist the urge to write “Jason” on the scrap, he’d keep that thought to himself, and instead wrote “limit?” And hung it under weaknesses with electricity.
There were more papers on the table. An analysis of the electromagnetic signal he gave off, that Tim had used to reduce noice in their visuals and audio. Pictures of the protein bars and the backpack. A map with every place the thief had disappeared on them marked: aka basically spread all over Gotham. A blood sample readout that was too degenerated for a useable DNA sample. These things didn’t go in the trash, but they weren’t important for capturing the Ghost, instead they went into a folder and put to the side.
Table now clear, Tim noticed his favorite mug full of steaming coffee and a plate of cookies set near the edge. He smiled and rubbed a hand through his hair self consciously. He hadn’t even noticed Alfred had been by, but he was a lifesaver. He would have to thank him later. 
He took the mug and a cookie and sat himself on the table, surveying the evidence board. He sipped the mug savoring the good coffee. It went perfect with the chocolate chip cookie. 
His eyes rested on “electromagnetic signals” again. It had been one of Dick’s early “proofs” that their thief was a ghost - if you subscribed to Ghostbusters lore at least. Tim rolled his eyes. The real reason the ghost couldn’t be a real ghost was that he was visible at all. Only magic users could see ghosts without a spell to make them visible (Something Tim was pretty sure Dick knew). He didn’t actually know whether the electromagnetic disturbance was a real ghost thing, the JLD didn’t need such tools after all when they could see them just fine. And besides if it was it probably wasn’t to the degree the Ghost gave it off. 
Would an EMP do anything? Probably not, since they were convinced the Ghost wasn’t using technology at this point, but a small localized pulse couldn’t hurt to try.
He took another sip of his coffee, contemplating, he needed something better. They could run the Ghost around all they wanted, but unless they stopped that phasing, he would get away every time. 
Jason couldn’t continue staying out of it like this. They’d chased the Ghost once without him and he was worse than a tiger in a cage, and twice as vicious. Tim scoffed, if only they could put the Ghost in a cage-
Tim’s thoughts crashed to a halt. 
No, they couldn’t- it’d never work- but if they- 
He jumped off the table, took three steps, then turned back to put down his mug and cookie. Then hurried over to the where they had the maps. With nimble fingers he sorted through the rolls only barely skimming the tags before discarding and moving to the next. They had to have- Got it! A utility map of the industrial area in Southside Gotham. He grabbed it and hurried back to the table. Unrolling it he placed the mug and the plate to hold down the corners even as he was already scanning the map looking for-
There!
It may be a while until the Ghost hit the area again. And they would need all hands on deck for this and preparations had to be made. But…
Tim smiled. They had a plan.
-
So we've gotten to this point :D Hope you enjoyed it! Comments will keep me warm on my night shift tonight <3
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Halloween prompts year 2, day 1
Danny had no idea what he was doing. There. He admitted it. He had found a book of spells that reminded him of Sam and stole it on instinct. He didn't have much money after running away. He didn't even have the chance to grab one of his Go Bags as his parents fired on him.
Good news was that ghost powers made it very easy to steal stuff. Now with a book that has actual magic spells in it? He'd never go hungry again! It was kinda weird though. New dimension or not he didn't think a grocery store would sell multiple copies of spellbooks just out in the open like this. They were clearly new and a product or modern manufacturing so it wasn't like it was some ancient relic or anything.
Hmm. A mystery for later then. In the meantime he was going to go around Gotham turning rogues and random jerks into frogs! It went pretty well. There was a mass Arkham breakout not too long ago and Danny was having an absolute blast sneaking up and froggifying people while wearing a cheap glittery devil masquerade mask. Once suitable frogged he trapped them in a magic bubble and left them on the rooftops for the bats to find.
This went awry however when one of the local vigilantes, Robin, tried to attack him from above. On reflex he turned Robin into a frog and freaked out, "Okay. Crud. Okay. I can fix this!" He said while picking up the tiny vigilante, "Just promise not to hurt me and i'll turn you back!"
The angry ribbiting told him that the vigilante would agree to no such thing, "In that case," Danny used his ghost powers to make a human sized ice cage and placed the frog inside. The cages bars were thin but sturdy. It would take Robin only a few good hits to break out of it but by that time the mysterious magic user would have had a head start.
Unfortunately, Danny had just started the spell that would turn Damian back when one of his siblings, Tim, got the jump on him...and got similarly froggy for it. Now there were two frogged bats and a startled magic user.
Danny looked up at the rooftops to see more and more bats staring at him. And the just froggified Red Robin. And the frog version of regular Robin. In a cage. This looked bad. After dodging a batarang Danny apologized to the frogs and quickly yelled, "Not today satan!" At batman before dropping a smoke bomb and teleporting away.
Later at the batcave Damian and Tim were placed in different enclosures to keep their new forms healthy and to prevent any frog on frog violence as they sort this out. At first they thought this was a meta who could turn people into frogs but that was quickly ruled out due to Damian and Tim both typing on devices and telling them about the ice powers.
Thus begins Danny's attempts to find the frogged siblings and turn them back before he gets stabbed by an angry bird and Robin and Red Robins attempts to escape to find this magic user cause it was clear that he had cursed them by accident and had wanted to turn them back right away.
They're family keeps trying to stop them though saying its too dangerous to go out as a frog and they don't know what that magic users intentions were. They didn't really have much choice however seeing at Constantine couldn't help them.
The trench coated brit and said this magic was like nothing he had ever felt before and he would have to do some research. Which lead to the boys swinging across rooftops as amphibians and probably making more than a few people question what was in thier coffee.
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jointherebellion215 · 6 months
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Birdie
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John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.
Word Count: 2.9k
Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"
A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)
You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!
Songs Mentioned in This Fic:
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters
G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer
The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.
Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.
Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.
You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.
It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 
All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.
Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.
“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”
Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.
Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.
“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”
You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”
Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.
An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.
“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.
You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.
“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”
They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.
“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.
“He brings you coffee every morning.”
“I thought he does that for everyone.”
“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”
“He takes care of his appearance!”
“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”
“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”
“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”
“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”
“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”
“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”
“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”
“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”
“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”
That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.
“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.
“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.
“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 
You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.
“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.
Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 
“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.
Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 
“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.
“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”
You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 
“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”
You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.
One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 
The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.
He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way
He had a boogie style that no one else could play
He was the top man at his craft
But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft
Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.
One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.
Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,
“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”
She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 
“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”
“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 
“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”
The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 
The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.
You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.
Meanwhile…. 
Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.
“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”
Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 
As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?
A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 
Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.
DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”
“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.
I’ll catch you up
When I’ve emptied my cup
When I’ve worn out my friends
When I’ve burned out both ends
Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.
His little Birdie.
“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.
When I’m pure like a dove
When I’ve learned how to love
He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.
As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 
It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.
John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.
Then the world starts back up and carries on.
Right here in the old therebefore
When nothing is left anymore
Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 
The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.
Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 
Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.
“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.
His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.
Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.
“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”
Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.
His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“I know, Buck. I know.”
Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.
“She kinda snuck up on me.”
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weasleyreidstyles · 9 months
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Serendipity
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chapter four
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): fainting, hospitals, talk of dark magic and curses
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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Mattheo guided you to an empty carriage with his palm gently grazing the small of your back. If you were in your right state of mind, you'd shove his hand away. Probably.
But at that moment, he was the only person holding you upright. You had no idea what was wrong with you, what this overwhelming feeling was.
It's just the adrenaline, tesoro. It'll pass. Theo had barely spoken to you since school started, not including the few nights you'd been on patrol with him late at night or in Ancient Runes and Transfiguration. Everytime you interacted with Mattheo he seemed to become agitated, as though it wasn't his idea to have his best friend teach you control.
You sat in the far corner of the carriage silently as they deliberated what to do about the necklace that was floating between you all, and for some reason you felt an odd tingling, cold sensation wash over you as it came closer to you.
"Should we take it to Snape? Or straight to Dumbledore?" Zabini asked as he used his wand to rotate the antique, looking at it with distaste. Theo and Mattheo seemed to debate this as Enzo nodded in agreement immediately.
"No we take it to Madame Pomfrey." Pansy injects. "She's going to need to see what cursed Katie. So she knows how to heal her."
"She could've died." you say quietly into the warmth of your scarf. They all turn to stare at you. "The necklace is famously doused with a death curse. Over a few dozen muggles supposedly died instantly when they touched it with their bare hands. Had she not had her gloves on, she would have died."
They look stricken, as if this had not occurred to them at all. The air in the carriage went frigid, suddenly. And not because of the chill.
"All the more reason to get it to Dumbledore." Zabini insists, but you vehemently disagreed.
"No, Pans is right. Madame Pomfrey needs to see the necklace. I doubt she'll be able to treat Katie here, Hogwarts won't have the necessary resources for this sort of thing."
Zabini seemed to think on this and in the end you all agreed; when you reached the Hospital Wing where Katie Bell was writhing helplessly in a bed, you all but collapsed into Mattheo's awaiting arms.
~∞~
You've discovered that fainting is an odd sensation. One moment you felt fine, fine enough to function normally at least, then the next minute everything is a hazy void of nothing.
You wake up in a bed in the hospital wing, Hermione next to you, reading a muggle novel with a furrowed brow. She jolts up when she sees that you're conscious.
"You're awake. I'll get Madame Pomfrey, hold on." And she's off down the aisle of warded beds, back seconds later with the matron in tow.
Madame Pomfrey fusses over you for a moment, asking you all the generic questions, that you answer only with half-truths, before leaving you alone with Hermione once again when you answered sufficiently enough.
"How do you really feel?" your best friend asked, her face full of worry. "Harry and Ron wanted to be here, Ginny too, but they have Quidditch practice."
"I feel like I got hit over the head with a hammer." you say, your voice rough and hoarse. "What even happened? The last thing I remember is walking into the Hospital Wing."
"Nott said you passed out when you came to hand the necklace in. Riddle got you settled into bed and let Madame Pomfrey do her work. But she hasn't said what is implicitly wrong with you." she explained and you stared up at her incredulously.
"But I only fainted? It's not that serious, is it?" your anxiety spikes and, not intentionally, you blocked out Hermione's voice in order to get some answers.
I hear helped me into bed? I could've sworn you don't have a nice bone in your body, guess I was wrong.
You're awake. He sounds surprised...relieved.
Obviously or I wouldn't be communicating with you right now, would I?
Funny. His voice is filled with mirth at your sarcastic response. How do you feel, sweetheart?
Do you want the lie I told so that I could leave the Hospital Wing quicker, or the real answer?
I'd hope that all the time we've spent in each other's presence would warrant the truth, Meadow.
I feel like shit, Mattheo. I don't even know what caused it, I felt fine when we were in the carriage.
Did you? He doesn't believe you.
I mean– I think so, I– My arm doesn't hurt as much. Do you think that has something to do with it?
Maybe. Is Granger still with you?
Yes, why?
No reason.
Mattheo?
He doesn't give you a response.
Hermione is snapping her fingers in your face and calling your name as if she'd been doing it for a hot minute.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asks, concern written all over your face.
"You know, I feel a little fatigued, I might try and sleep it off." you feel like the worst person in the world for lying to your best friend, but you want answers, and Mattheo seemed like the only person who would be brutally honest with you.
"Alright. I'll come back tomorrow with the others if you're still here after lessons are over." she smiles at you and guilt eats away at your chest.
"Thank you for staying with me, Mione." She squeezes your hand affectionately before she stands up and leaves you alone.
~∞~
Half an hour later it's not Mattheo who comes to visit like you secretly hoped for (but you were denying this to yourself vehemently). Instead Professor Dumbledore walks into the Wing with his usual grace and grandure.
"Good evening, Miss Meadows." he says cheerily as he stands before you bed. "May I sit?"
Bewildered, you nod your head silently.
"There's no need for the confusion," he says, clearly using Occlimency on you. "I see you have a good grasp on your mind. When did you learn to do this?"
"I like to learn new things." you say, brows furrowing at him as he gets comfortable in the plush seat beside your bed. He hums at your answer, rubbing his chin with the fingers of his good hand.
"I believe you experienced something rather....odd this afternoon." he began, his usually twinkling eyes holding an emotion that you could not place. "Can you describe it to me?"
"Um...I guess it started when we got closer to Katie and Leanne-" you start before cutting yourself off. "Actually, how is she? Katie? What happened to her?"
Dumbledore sighs as he answers.
"She was taken to St. Mungo's for treatment. They have far better equipped staff for dealing with dark curses. Poppy does not do that sort of healing."
"But she'll be okay?" you ask.
"She'll live, miraculously." he says before he focuses on you again. "Now back to you, Miss Meadow."
"Right. We were walking down the lanes, behind them and then I think they had stopped walking while they were arguing and it felt like an eery shift in the air. I don't know how else to describe it but then Katie touched the necklace and went up into the air. When she started screaming that's when Matt– Riddle– that's when Riddle and his friends turned up behind us. Enzo and Blaise went to find Hagrid and Ron, Theo and Riddle helped pull her down. I tried to help but when I touched her, my arm started to burn." you can fell the sting like a phantom now that you think about the pain.
"Interesting." he says as he pulls an old signet ring from his deep robe pocket, holding it out for you to take. "Can you tell me what you feel when you touch this, please?"
You do as he says and take the ring into your hands. Twisting it around your fingers, allowing your magic begins to swirl around it before it burns your fingers. You drop it in an instant. That same cold, tingling feeling you felt when Blaise rotated the necklace washed over you right afterward.
"It's cursed?" you asked, looking up at the Headmaster for confirmation, who is staring at you with knowing, inquisitive eyes.
"Something like that, yes." he says, his decaying hand twitches in response.
"Is that why your hand is like...that?" you ask, motioning to the appendage.
"Yes, rather nasty isn't it?" he says, tucking his hand away from your prying eyes. "I'm not sure what it is cursed by, but that is why I have asked Harry to befriend Professor Slughorn. I believe it has something to do with Lord Voldemort and Horis is the key to everything.
He ignores the way you instinctively flinch at the name. But thats when you notice that the ring that is still on your bed, holds the Riddle insignia. Mattheo's family crest.
"Sir, what's wrong with me?" you croak, as you turn the ring in your hands once again, letting your magic wash over it and dropping it into your lap when it zaps you with another stinging burn.
Professor Dumbledore removes the ring from your possession as he answers carefully.
"You're an incredibly smart witch, Miss Meadows." he states. "Professor Snape tells me of your incredible non-verbal abilities, and am I correct in assuming that you are also talented with wandless magic?"
You flush at this. "Yes sir."
"It is no surpise to me that your magic picks up on things that other witches and wizards may not." he says, tilting his head at you. "I believe you would make a good Unspeakable in the future, my dear. Or perhaps a curse breaker."
"What?" you ask, completely muddled by how cryptic he seemed to become. "Why do you say that? Shouldn't I be worried that I can somehow detect dark magic?"
"On the contrary...I believe it will be the most important skill you learn in this life."
With that note, he stands and with a simple goodbye leaves you lying alone in the bed with a thousand thoughts running through your head.
None of them bringing you any closer to a solid answer to the biggest questions you have:
Why the hell can you sense dark magic? Why did it cause your skin to burn? Why did it cause you to lose your grasp on consciousness?
~∞~
aaand the plot thickens...🤭🤭🤭
this was quite short but there will be more mattheo and meadow moments to come in the next one i promise xxx
comment to be added to the taglist!
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taglist:
(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)
@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira
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purple-goo-writes · 10 months
Text
Cursed Ship Idea
Danny and Vandal Savage as the Bitter Divorced Couple.
Like when Danny met Vandal, Danny's already pretty ancient, hurting from his family dying but not becoming Ghosts, possible destruction of his dimension and losing eveything then becoming Ghost King. And decides to check out another dimension to escape his duties as Ghost King for a while, MAYBE actuallh processing all his Truama ™. Meets Savage during probably like his western Era and realizes the other is immortal, and well it is established that when Savage isn't being completely evil, he is a charmer.
I mean he has Kids for God's sake, he had to be charming some how. And well, Danny is pretty morally Grey by thus point, he had to become such as the GIW got worse before his dimensions destruction and as well as being Ghost King and a being of Balance. After all, Balance isn't about what's right or wrong, it's about keeping the Universe Balanced. Sometimes it means allowing more good acts then evil and other it means allowing evil to prevail.
So yeah, morally Grey Danny. Anyway things hit off, some how Danny and Savage get married down the lane. (Nabu ends up their kid, since canonical he is Savages son) And then the two have a falling out because as Savage goes off the Deep End and as a while morally Grey, Danny can't condone his actions as it tips the scales too far.
Thus begins the Bitter Divorced Saga.
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thealtoduck · 3 months
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Being a Son of Iris, headcanons…
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PJO x Male Reader
Reference to possible: Travis Stoll x Son of Iris!Reader
Warnings: References to violence…
Summary: Just some headcanons for being the son of Iris, Goddess of the rainbow…
(A/n: I think I cursed myself with that poll about my draft fics because the progress on those ⬇️… but I hope you’ll like this good enough for now)
——
In the far left corner of the Hermes cabin is where the three Iris children, you, Butch and Blanche, had set up their own little area of a bunkbed and a matress all with colorful sheets.
That was until after the war when the three of you FINALLY got a cabin of your own.
The exterior was very simple and made of stone like an ancient greek temple. With carvings of Iris on the walls.
As soon as the cabin was declared finished, it gained an iridescent glow. Which most people assumed was a sign that Iris had blessed it and was satisfied with their work.
Above the door of the cabin where it says Cabin 14 there is also a giant opal placed on the wall, that glistens in all the rainbows colours.
One time the Hermes cabin stole the Opal as a prank but when the Iris cabin found out you were pissed and you and your siblings cursed cabin 11 to turn hot pink as revenge.
You, Butch and Blanche only changed it back after Chiron forced the Hermes cabin to apologise.
——
Speaking of the Hermes cabin, The Iris and Hermes kids have a bit of a rivalry since Hermes took over Iris duty as the messanger of the gods against her wishes. So the two cabins engage in a mostly friendly rivalry on a lot of occasions.
You personally have a rivalry with Travis Stoll, the two of you always competing about something, who’s the fastest, who’s the strongest, who’s the better fighter, who looks better in their swimming suit…
Your siblings tease you saying you’re both crushing on each other. You deny it saying: ”Ew, why would I like Travis and his dumb cute face”.
Meanwhile in Cabin 11, Travis: ”Gross, why would I like Y/n and his sorta hot body”.
——
The powers you as a child of Iris have are that:
You’re really fast runners and can run for a long time, Iris was the messenger of the gods for a reason.
You can cast colour related curses and change the colour of different things and objects. If someone pisses you off, hope they like having the most obnoxious blue hair colour in existence and having their cool black car turned baby pink.
You get free Iris messages.
You can generate small rainbows that can be used for shorter Iris messages.
You can make your whole or just parts of your body glow with the rainbows colours. Helps when you’re somewhere really dark.
More a general trait but when a child of Iris skin gets wet it turn iridescent.
——
Congrats! You’re probably one of Hera’s favourite cabin as Iris acts as her personal messenger and confidant.
You even received a ancient vase as a cabin warming present from her.
——
Beacuse of your cabin’s association with colours and rainbows a lot of campers say watching you and your siblings in battle is like watching the Powerpuff Girls.
You are occaisionally referred to by the other campers as ”The Powerpuff Cabin”. Which you and the others don’t mind, who wouldn’t wanna be compared to the Powerpuff Girls.
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aphroditelovesu · 4 months
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The Lost Queen - XIV
— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.
— genre: yandere, dark!au.
— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.
— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.
— word count: 3,040.
— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra.
— the lost queen series masterlist.
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Chapter 14
It had suddenly started raining. A good omen, you thought, but when you heard the screams outside your tent you realized that it wasn't for the Persians.
As the raindrops fell from the sky, you moved restlessly inside your tent in the Persian war camp. Your anxiety and stress levels were high and you were afraid that this could affect your pregnancy.
The conversation with Darius and Bessus — you shuddered just remembering the last man, — hadn't been productive and you feared what that might mean. By now Alexander had probably already been notified of your disappearance and was going crazy.
Nothing good would come of Alexander's anger. You placed your hand on your stomach, on your not-yet-growing belly, and took a deep breath. You needed to calm down, all this stress wouldn't do you any good, it would only make you more anxious.
"Excuse me." You were startled when you heard a low voice with a strong Persian accent next to you. You looked at the owner of the voice and relaxed when you saw that it was Bagoas, the eunuch. His footsteps — was that him? You weren't sure — were really silent.
Darius had assigned this eunuch to you as your servant, in this case, personal slave, during your time here. Bagoas would be perfect to satisfy your wishes, the King had said. You felt like slapping him. You didn't need a slave and you didn't want one. Even in Alexander's camp you refused to keep slaves but rather free servants to serve you.
You nodded, waiting for him to continue talking. Bagoas kept his gaze down, not daring to look at your face. He was a slave, you remembered. And like all slaves he was trained to be submissive, not to look free people in the eye.
Your heart ached remembering this, remembering that slavery was common and accepted. That what they did to Bagoas and many others was natural.
Bagoas spoke softly, "Do you need anything?" His voice had a very strong Persian accent but you understood him perfectly.
You shook your head, "No thanks, Bagoas. I'm fine."
Bagoas nodded and silently moved to leave, until you called out to him.
"Bagoas?" You called his name, "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay with you."
Not that he had a choice, you mentally cursed yourself.
Bagoas nodded slowly and stood in front of you. You pointed to a chair next to you, silently telling him to sit down. Bagoas did as he was told.
''You...'' You started to say, but realized you didn’t know what you really wanted to say. Realizing this, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Bagoas, in turn, remained quiet.
You cleared your throat and tried again, ''Would you like some wine or water?''
Bagoas blinked slowly at your request, clearly surprised. He nodded slowly after a few minutes of being completely still. You smiled and took the pitcher of wine and poured it into a cup for him, who hesitantly accepted the cup.
"It's not poisoned." You joked softly, trying to lighten the mood.
Bagoas glanced at you lightly and you could see something amusing sparkle in the eunuch's dark eyes. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip of wine, his eyes fixed on his feet. You smiled lightly and drank some water.
"Would you like something to eat, Bagoas?" You asked, pointing to a silver tray that held cheese, bread, and a piece of honey cake. Bagoas looked at the tray and shook his head.
You frowned. Bagoas was thin, very thin.
"Are you sure? The honey cake is delicious." You tried again but the eunuch just denied it.
"I thank you but no, your Majesty." Bagoas said, his eyes never meeting yours.
"I understood." You sighed and decided there was no reason to say anything, "You're dismissed then."
Bagoas placed the cup on the small table and bowed gracefully to you and silent as he had entered, he left.
You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your sore neck. You closed your eyes but opened them quickly when the tent flap was lifted and you locked eyes with the intruder.
Perdiccas.
"What do you want?" You practically growled, not bothering to try to be polite.
Perdiccas frowned and sat down next to you, "I have news, my love."
You tried not to make a disgusted expression when he called you “my love”.
"And what would that news be?" You asked uninterested. Perdiccas grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently. You frowned at his boldness.
Perdiccas rubbed your fingers, "We are going to Babylon."
You choked on the water you were drinking and the cup was placed sloppily on the table.
"What?!" You questioned him, standing up quickly. Perdiccas didn't seem bothered by your outburst, however.
"We are going to Babylon." He repeated as if you were a child with a learning disability, "I talked to Darius and he agreed that it's safer for you than staying here."
"I am not going." You growled, not even bothering to try and contain your anger. You were tired of men trying to tell you what to do. It could be the custom, the normal thing at that time, but you weren't from that time and you didn't care anymore.
Perdiccas raised an eyebrow, "That's not your choice."
"You don't give me orders." You said confidently. Perdiccas seemed to be getting angry.
Good. That would make two of you.
Perdiccas grabbed your face with one hand and forced you to look into his eyes, "We're going to Babylon and that's final."
Before you could say anything, Perdiccas pressed his lips against yours violently, practically swallowing you. You gasped and tried to pull away but his touch kept you in place.
It was wrong and disgusting on so many levels to feel him kiss you again. At that time, you were desperate and wanted comfort and that's why you kissed him but now it felt wrong, not only because he was forcing you, but also because you didn't want him anymore. You didn't even notice when the attraction you felt for Perdiccas started to wane, you just knew it disappeared.
Now all that was left was a spark of what had once been your friendship. But did this friendship really exist?
When Perdiccas finally released you from the kiss, you noticed that his lips were slightly swollen and you shivered in disgust as you watched him lick them. Before you could think or say anything, you raised your hand and slapped Perdiccas across the face, the sound echoing through the tent.
Perdiccas' face turned to the side from the impact and you knew it hurt when he placed his hand where he had just hit and hissed in pain.
Good.
Perdiccas looked at you in disbelief. He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost and not the woman he knew.
"W-What happened to you?" He asked, still holding his hand over the area where he was hit.
You stared at him with contempt shining in your eyes.
"I happened." You said, your eyes narrowing as the words were spoken, "And don't you ever touch me again without my permission, understand?" Your words were harsh and one could feel the anger reflected in them. Perdiccas swallowed hard as if he had just had a divine revelation.
He finally noticed, you realized it. Perdiccas finally realized that you are no longer the desperate and terrified woman he had met a few months ago.
You were a Queen and you were starting to act like it.
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Alexander's tent was eerily silent on that restless night. One might think that the great King was resting, but the flickering light of the flames danced across the walls of the tent, betraying the agitation that consumed him. Alexander found no peace, not while his beloved wife was missing.
The entire Macedonian camp shared his anguish. News of the Queen's kidnapping had spread like wildfire, plunging soldiers and officers into a mixture of fury and despair. No one dared to blame Alexander for his insomnia, as everyone knew that the emptiness next to him in bed was an open wound in his heart. He spent hours pacing back and forth, his troubled thoughts reflected in the flickering shadows the flames cast.
Inside the tent, the atmosphere was filled with tension. Maps and parchments were spread out on the table, fingerprints and wax stains bearing witness to long nights of planning and worrying. The heavy curtains that bounded the space swayed gently in the night breeze, but they failed to carry away the feeling of helplessness that permeated the air.
Every sound outside the tent, whether the distant noise of the watchmen or the low murmur of the soldiers on watch, seemed to amplify Alexander's inner silence. His eyes, fixed on the flames, burned with the determination of a man who would not allow his wife to remain a captive any longer. The King of the Macedonians was prepared to move heaven and earth to bring her back, and everyone who knew him knew that nothing would stand in her way.
The entire Macedonian camp reacted with deep consternation to the news of the Queen's kidnapping. The atmosphere, already tense due to the nature of the military campaigns, became even more charged with discontent and suspicion, especially among Perdiccas' men. These soldiers, in particular, were disgusted by their general's actions. How could Perdiccas betray everyone's trust by kidnapping the Queen? By committing such an act, he not only condemned himself, but also cast a shadow of distrust on his subordinates.
The growing distrust between Perdiccas' men and the other soldiers in the camp was palpable. Loyalty, a fundamental pillar of the Macedonian army, was seriously shaken. Alexander had established that any fight between soldiers would be punished by death, a drastic measure to maintain order and discipline. However, the ban seemed to be ignored. Physical conflicts broke out with alarming frequency, and punishments were equally frequent, but they failed to stem the tide of violence and resentment.
The situation reached a critical point when even two of the most prominent generals came into conflict. Hephaestion and Craterus, known for their skills and loyalty to the King, became involved in a fight that shocked the camp. The details of the incident were hazy, but the essence of the conflict seemed clear: Craterus blamed Alexander for the Queen's kidnapping, a serious accusation that infuriated Hephaestion. He, in an effort to defend the honor of his friend and King, confronted Craterus, but the fight only served to increase anxiety and chaos among the troops.
The tension in the camp was almost palpable. Each soldier knew that the unit was crucial to the survival and success of their campaigns, but the shadow of Perdiccas' kidnapping and betrayal put everything at risk. Uncertainty about the Queen's future and safety hung over everyone, exacerbating the tension and making each day more difficult to bear.
The other generals were also overcome with fury at the betrayal. Cleitus, who had now recovered well although he was still too weak to fight, personally wanted to ride a horse with a group of soldiers and scouts to search for the Queen. However, Alexander did not allow it, which resulted in a heated argument that had to be ended by Ptolemy.
Hephaestion spent most of his time at Alexander's side, desperately trying to calm his friend. He was rarely seen outside the King's tent these days, his loyalty and concern evident in his every gesture. Ptolemy, on the other hand, stood out for his calm and rationality. Although he was also deeply upset by the Queen's kidnapping and Perdiccas betrayal, he tried to keep a cool head, aware that one more angry mind would not help anything.
Cassander was equally furious, but he controlled his words carefully so as not to say something that could get him killed. The tension made him clench his fists and grind his teeth, but he knew he needed to maintain his composure. Parmenion and Philotas, in turn, maintained a facade of indifference. They didn't show much concern or emotion in public, but everyone knew that deep down, they cared deeply. The Queen had won their sympathy and respect, and the apparent coldness was just a mask to hide genuine concern.
The camp was on the verge of emotional collapse. Every decision, every word, carried weight. The generals knew they needed to remain united and focused, but the shadow of the kidnapping hung over everyone, making any semblance of normality difficult.
Something needed to be done, and Alexander knew it. He had plans, detailed and strategic plans, and he was determined to carry them out above all else. His mind worked incessantly, tracing every movement, every step necessary to rescue his Queen and punish the traitor.
Inside his tent, Alexander prepared himself. His eyes, burning with a mixture of pain and fury, reflected the intensity of his determination. He knew that once he got his hands on Perdiccas, nothing would stop him. Perdiccas would pay dearly for his betrayal.
Alexander was willing to do anything to get his Queen back, to get you back. The thought of you being in danger tormented him, and he would not rest until you were safe by his side again. He summoned his generals, outlined his strategies and prepared his troops, ensuring that each soldier knew the importance of the mission.
With each passing moment, Alexander's resolve solidified. His leadership, fierce and relentless, galvanized the Macedonian army. The search for the Queen was not just a military operation; it was a rescue mission that touched every soldier's heart. Everyone knew that under Alexander's leadership they would be relentless in their pursuit and punishment of Perdiccas.
As the camp buzzed with preparation, Alexander remained focused. Nothing would divert him from his goal. He would do anything, face any obstacle, to bring his beloved Queen back. And when he finally rescued you, justice would be done, and Perdiccas's betrayal would be avenged with all the fury of a betrayed king.
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The night was cold and silent, very silent. The rain from earlier had made the air colder and not even the heavy fur clothes seemed to contain the cold outside.
But you thought it was because most people had already gone to sleep, only you were awake and getting ready to leave the Persian camp.
You sighed and looked around, noticing some guards and servants tidying up everything. You sat down on a rock and tried to contain the excitement that was growing inside you. A part of you was furious with the events, especially with what had happened between you and Perdiccas earlier, but the other part was excited at the prospect of seeing a historic place in person, of seeing Babylon at its height.
You just didn't expect it to be like this. You were a hostage and you knew a lot could go wrong. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
"A kiss for your thoughts." You opened your eyes when you heard a voice. You sighed as you realized it was Aslan— or whatever he really called himself — talking to you.
"What do you want?" You asked, adjusting your robes.
Aslan frowned and said sarcastically, "In a bad mood, cara mia?"
"Just tired." That wasn't a lie, not completely. You were exhausted and couldn't sleep well at night with everything that was going on.
"Hmm..." Aslan murmured and sat down next to you, looking at the night sky, "I heard about what happened in your tent with Perdiccas today."
You gave him a sideways glance, ''Leave it alone.''
Aslan shook his head and you could swear there was barely contained anger on his face, "No, I won't let it alone. That wasn't right... Him forcing himself on you like that." The way his words seemed sincere took you by surprise.
You raised an eyebrow and glared at him, ''And do you care?''
"I'm not the bad guy here, (Y/N)." Aslan said and you scoffed, "Despite what you may think, I genuinely care about you."
"Care about me?" You laughed darkly, "If you care about me, then why the hell did you bring me here? What's the point of all this?!"
Aslan sighed, "You'll understand eventually. Now is not the time for you to know the truth, but..." He took your cold hand and rubbed it, trying to warm you up, "I promise I'll take care of you."
You couldn't help how your body shivered at his words. You found yourself watching him closely, his attractive features. Aslan was a handsome man, you finally realized, and although you didn't trust him, there was something about him that attracted you.
He seemed familiar to you somehow.
Aslan brought his face closer to yours and you felt your heart beat faster. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered, "I promise I'll make him pay for laying his hands on you."
You closed your eyes, feeling strangely warm inside at his words, at the promise in them. Aslan's words brought you comfort, something you hadn't felt in a while.
He smiled and kissed your cheek lovingly, "I need to go. I have things to do but I'll take care of you." Aslan let go of your hand and stood in front of you, he placed his hand on your face and lifted your chin, making you look into his dark eyes.
You couldn’t look away and you didn’t want to. Aslan rubbed your chin and brought his face closer to yours, his lips brushing yours, he said, "I promise I will always take care of you."
The frigid night air didn't seem so cold anymore as Aslan's words were heard by you over and over again. You were standing still, not knowing how to react, just watching him walk away from the camp.
There was a lot to be discovered, you realized. Maybe Babylon had the answers you needed.
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— lady l: a calmer chapter but that's because chapter 15, which I'm already writing, will be more chaotic. Aslan is a complex character but does he care about Reader? That leaves the doubt... 👀
I hope you liked it, forgive me for any mistakes and this week I'll release the next chapter! Unti thenl!! ❤️
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nanenna · 8 months
Text
Today I remembered that my favorite thing about having so many AUs is to pick up 2 AUs like Barbie dolls and clack their faces together while making smooching noises.
Behold my beloved DCxDP AU amalgamation monster: DeamonTwinAU and PhantomThiefAU (aka: Selina gives Danny a slutty slutty cat suit, good times)
The story vaguely goeth thusly: Danny is a halfa, the Balance, the Bridge Between Worlds, he is....... the Observants' glorified gofer. You see, there are a lot of cursed/enchanted/ghostly artefacts floating around loose in the living Realm and they need Danny to go retrieve them. Danny would rather not, but they just won't leave him alone about it. Can't a guy just live? At least let him poop in peace! Ancients! Fine, he'll do it if it'll get them to shut up. (Spoiler: it does, in fact, not get them to shut up.)
But you see, Danny has a secret: he was raised in an assassin ninja cult (at least for the early years) before getting adopted by the Fentons. Now the killing? Not a fan, no thanks, he's working on not increasing his kill count, thx. But the sneaking? He could use that. Sneaky ninjas are also good thieves, right? So he cobbles together a knock off League of Assassins outfit, buys a cheap portable lock picking set, and decides to make a game of how far can he get without using his powers (much. He's new at this okay?)
Batman is not having fun. There's some (possible?) League assassin running around stealing verified cursed/magical artefacts! Is Talia planning something? Is Ra's planning something? (Isn't he for real dead? Silly reader, no one is ever for real dead in DC.)
Robin is super frustrated. For all the same reasons Batman is but also because he just knows this new rogue is taunting him. Personally. Because he's Damian al Ghul Wayne and the whole world revolves around him, obviously. (And also because he once pointed at Robin and laughed before jumping out a window.)
Selina is intrigued. Who is this kid? How does he know what to go after? How does he keep evading the bats? Luckily she runs into him mid heist (fortunately they had different targets, she's intrigued but not enough to hand over her shinies to him) and oh he's adorable! She has to train him, it would drive Brucie up the wall. But then she sees his face and oh, she knows exactly who he is, even if he seems oblivious.
Because Danny? He's in Gotham for the ecto, for the Thomas Wayne full ride scholarship he managed to snag, and also because for some reason Gotham is full of so many cursed/ghost artefacts. (Lady Gotham is seething, she worked hard to collect all those curses! But this is her beloved dark knight's kid and she kinda wants him home. But she also doesn't want to give up her curses!) Back to the point: Danny doesn't care about ANY of the rich bougie people. The Waynes give out a lot of scholarships? Cool, that's nice and all. They probably also rub elbows with Vlad or Sam's parents. No thanks. Doesn't care. He's got better things to worry about.
Selina has got a plan though! She's gonna teach this boy how to thief properly, starting with better tools (including the slutty, slutty cat burglar outfit). She also knows that she can't let any of the Waynes (in or out of costume) meet Danny (out of costume). So does Lady Gotham. So does the universe apparently (or just Clockwork maybe), because all kinds of unlikely things keep happening to prevent it.
Danny is having so much fun though! He's learning new skills. Selina is giving him an allowance so he's not living off ramen and peanut butter sandwiches, he's doing well in school, he gets to stretch his ghost powers regularly to go above the smog cover and star gaze in peace. Everything's coming up Danny.
Selina decides it's time to flaunt her find in front of Brucie and makes Danny go to a gala as her date, she spends the entire time clinging to his arm and introducing him around to everyone. Including Bruce himself (who just so happens to have Damian in tow). Danny may not recognize Bruce, but he sure recognizes Damian, and Damian recognizes him if his utterly flabbergasted face is anything to go by. But Danny remembers what it was like living in the League. And so far as he knows Damian is still in it, he was the Demon Head's heir after all. Damian made sure of it.
Oh it. Is. ON! Now Danny is on a mission! A sibling rivalry mission! He is going to make Damian's/Robin's a living hell. Selina going on a heist that has no magical artefacts? Danny's there anyway, always have back up. That necklace in the museum has barely any powers and he wasn't even going to bother with it? Too bad, it's back on the list. He has no reason to be out at all but the bats are on patrol? Well so is Danny. Catch him if you can, suckers!
It's good for Danny, it's enrichment!
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