#I JUST REALIZED THIS SAID SUMMONERS.
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Do you think the summoners kiss eachother? Ty!
The council is judging you.
But uh.. I don't think so.. I'm pretty sure we'd all get into a full on brawl before we make out with each other
(some people prefer hugs more, some don't like physical touch including mine- also some are unsafe to kiss like they'll bite your lips off. im looking at a few of you- you know who you are.)
I cant speak for others BUT my girl wouldn't unless she has a soft spot for you. And then it's on the forehead like a mom totally not because its all she can reach- but it's like a 2% chance.
#arcana twilight#artw#I JUST REALIZED THIS SAID SUMMONERS.#i never thought “I'm pretty sure we'd all get into a full on brawl before we make out with each other” would be a sentence i'd write#good god anon please don't have them make out they'll all explode..
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Also Renzou blacking out and killing a giant spider is so funny like what the fuck was that about
#also he said where are we like who is we shima??? (obviously i know he's prolly talking about yamantaka but like we? hm? why? explain)#there's also the fact that everytime before he summoned yamantaka he'd pass out but this time he hasn't#he just realizes hes on top of a giant spider freaks out and falls (although it looks more like he jumped away)#so lwas passing out a real thing and hes just gotten better in the last couple of days or was that another act he put on to deceive people?#renzou shima#happy talks blue exorcist
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nothing like having an inconsistent regional accent to make you feel like a faker. yeah i have a southern accent kinda technically but it sneaks in through the screen door in the back. it couch surfs. and basically only appears when im talking with people with strong accents. or about accents. or about the south. in a way that makes me seem more suggestible than anything. like i swear im not making fun of you this just happens for like three words and then goes away 💀💀💀
#it's such a goofy thing to get hung up on but im Convinced no one's gonna believe me when it's been an issue exactly zero times#like nobody cares. but i THINK they care#i don't even know if it's an appropriate accent for my part of the south either which doesn't help the faker thing#anyway i realized during my southern lit class yesterday and now doing a reading for said class that it summons my accent#which is very funny. what a funny little bug i am#there is a part of me that kinda hopes it'll stick someday bc there's definitely charm to it#but im worried it could make things like the voice acting pipe dream harder yk#my mom's from the deep south but she doesn't really have a strong accent until she's talking with someone w one so it's. probably normal?#ik accents are funny like that it's just the misinterpretation fear machine making me silly again#but again if it sticks the potential for a southern butch loverboy image would be great. the fans would love that#realizing my aesthetics are too confused. southern butch loverboy in an academic femme goth way. somehow. pls reconcile that yourself thx#anyway it IS a suggestible phenomenon but it's still real
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Auto-combat games with 15 different microquests that repeat over and over again for the rest of time making the game a never ending tutorial my beloathed
#I try to play these types of games occasionally#because I’m bored and I’ll download anything from the app store if it catches my attention#but god they are truly the fucking worst#why you would make an entire game out of everyone’s least favorite part of a game — though it is necessary — is beyond me#the only one I’ve ever played that I could stand for more than like 3 days was one about being a little mushroom creature#possibly not the one you’re thinking of. not the one about marrying an entire town (which I don’t think I would qualify in this genre)#like. these games aren’t so bad if the quests are progression based#but the really shit ones will endlessly ask you to do miniscule amounts of boring tasks#like doing a 10 pull on a weapon summons despite you having way more tickets for it than that#and then ask you to come back to claim ur quest reward and hand u the next microquest#and all of these are considered separate tasks so instead of tracking how many summons u’ve done and marking your progress so u can just —#— do as many as ur gonna do and then you can turn in for that number of quest rewards#ur just endlessly going back and forth between menus. bored out of your mind and wondering when the game will stop dragging you along thru—#— this goddamn tutorial#but then eventually you realize the whole fucking game is that way#like I don’t know if they’re trying to actively worsen my attention span#or if they’re trying to set up the world’s laziest dopamine farm#(spoiler alert it’s probably both. cause worse attention span will make u more reliant on dopamine)#anyway I fucking hate these games I really need to stop giving them a chance#like I said the ones that are progression based and will track ur progression regardless of where you are in the quest chain —#— not that bad. can actually be fun#turn-in based ones?? actually the devil’s armpit. stinky. bad#ok I’m done ranting
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See the late great Steven Attewell:
Being too honorable to take up Littlefinger’s offer [...] is not the reason Ned Stark fell from power. The reason Ned Stark falls from power is his inability to understand institutional power. Instead of understanding the fiscal powers of the state as an institution that exists outside of the man who occupies the office, he sees Littlefinger as “the man who pays” and thinks that he has to use Littlefinger. In reality, Ned is Hand of the King and Lord Protector of the Realm – he doesn’t need Littlefinger to take command of the City Guard.
Via his commentary on AGOT Eddard XIII, but reiterated in all of his Ned chapters commentaries, especially this one.
like people are always whacking george for this and yeah he can be a bit handwavey with like “margaery and her cousins” “this random girl we never hear from again was alysanne’s lady for many years” or whatever, like he doesn’t single out more than two or three girls usually, their families aren’t always as politically active as you’d expect them to be but they are THERE they do EXIST like there’s a FUCKTON of tyrells in that capital, ned himself comments on the sheer number of evil blondes hanging around, All Three Baratheon Brothers Are There For A Long Time, petyr is by himself but he has an ENTIRE SPY NETWORK meanwhile ned just rolls up with nothing but a glorified intern, a mean party nun, and his two young daughters and is like “i can fix the entire government actually politics is easy” NED WHERE ARE YOUR CRONIES. THE ENTIRE NORTH IS LINING UP TO BE YOUR INSANE HENCHMAN AND YOU LEFT THEM ON READ.
#prev re bringing the greatjon and wyman - yeah maybe not greatjon specifically but bring the smalljon to take over the gold cloaks for sure#and wyman would've been *salivating* to replace littlefinger you know it#most of this is the “early installment weirdness” problem alas#but watsonially it's unfortunately just ned not realizing the sheer power he had as hand of the king#he didn't need to work with the small council. he could've fired them all. even varys. even pycelle! and especially littlefinger and janos#robert might've grumbled a bit if cersei bitched but he would've given in. with him it's far easier to get forgiveness than permission#ned could've come in like cregan and said i'm hand now you listen to me or you die. but instead he was like#“oh everyone knows their jobs but me. guess i have to listen to what they say. wait for hugh to answer my polite summons. i'm just a guy”#god imagine wyman in king's landing. clever wynafryd and bold wylla as sansa and arya's ladies. sigh sigh sigh#welp suppose that's what you get when you want your main character to die right away so the plot can move on to the actual main characters#asoiaf#asoiaf meta#ned stark#hand of the king#the north#asoiaf politics#or the lack of it#oh ned#queue and me we're in this together now
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isnt it sad that the best world in dream drop distance is the fucking grid. (only in sora’s side though..)
#robo ramble#like every other world is so nothing burger#in terms of doing anything unique or fun or interesting#kh2 is by no means a perfect game but i had a lot of fun in the disney worlds.#not every world or visit was a winner. sometimes i liked a second visit more than the first#mostly because the first visit was often times an awkward retread of the movie#i really like how the beauty and the beast world was handled. i hope when we visit the world in the future we’ll actually get to see gaston#but yeah compared to dream drop. one characters version of the world was often times a awkward as fuck retread of the movie#and the new stuff didnt really work. and GOOD LORD. does notre dame not fucking work for kingdom hearts.#just make quasimodo a summon.#if they wanted to follow the movies closely for worlds could you have at least done it better or have been more creative with it#also how the fuck did they manage to make pete incompetent in a movie where he is competent. nomura just has a vendetta against pete ig#he knocked out only mickey and left sora to deal with nightmares like. PUT HIM IN THE FUCKING DUNGEON TOO#this is when i was playing pride lands and i said YOU ARE A FUCKING LION JUST MAUL THEM TO DEATH#pete is way more intimidating than him being a toon would suggest!!#let toons be badass. let toons be intimidating. let toons be heartfelt. let toons be fucking characters .#ok so the grid. they did more interesting things with rinzler in dream drop than they did with him in his own fucking movie#having someone. ACTUALLY RECOGNIZE tron is insane. and much fucking needed.#ok so for riku he goes on a lightcycle and then watches the movie happen. wtf .#sora gets to do so much and riku gets to do nothing. hey what if sora and riku werent arbitrarily separated for no reason yeah what if…#what if sora got to tell riku about his initial adventures with tron and then come to the realization that things have somehow gotten worse#they thought they freed the system but it turns out that was a copy. even though tron told sora himself. it didn’t occur to him that the#dream world they ended up in was the real one. where things happened a lot differently.#so anyway.. doyou wanna hear about my(GETS SHOT)
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Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.
.
Interdimensional travel was hard.
It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.
"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"
"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.
"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.
"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."
"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."
"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.
"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."
"Then they ought not to summon you."
While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."
"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."
Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."
"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."
"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."
The Observants were silent.
"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"
The Observants scattered.
Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.
Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.
.
"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."
"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.
Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."
"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."
Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."
"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"
"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."
Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."
Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."
"You mean my Ghost King form."
"All your forms are your Ghost King form."
"You know what I mean."
"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.
"It freaks people out, though."
"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."
"Is that likely?"
"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."
Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into
"You can do more than that."
"I can?"
"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."
.
The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.
This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.
They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.
And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.
The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.
It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.
Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"
Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"
"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"
"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"
"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"
"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."
"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"
"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.
The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"
"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.
"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"
"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."
Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.
"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"
"What did it say?" asked Batman.
"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."
Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.
"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"
"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."
"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"
"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."
A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...
"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.
The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"
"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."
"And just us, not our kids or anything?"
"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"
"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"
"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.
"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"
"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"
"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."
"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"
"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."
"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"
"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."
And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.
"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.
The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.
"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."
For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.
There was a burst of blinding light.
When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.
"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."
"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.
"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"
I've been summoned.
You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...
I can. You can't.
Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.
I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.
Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.
Close enough.
Figures (literally, 'certainly').
Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.
I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).
No! It's like being a parent.
Yes, one.
I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?
No! Gross!
No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).
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—Hair tie
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Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x lover!fem!reader
Summary: why hunt down his own hair ties when he could just steal yours instead?
Content: fluff, kisses, no games au, Dae-ho being a hair tie thief, english isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: ~ 0.9k
The drawer was almost empty again.
You frowned, pulling it open further, as if the motion would magically summon the missing hair ties back into existence. But no, there were just two lonesome bands left. Your favorite blue one—gone. The black one that never snagged—gone.
You always kept your hair ties in a little wooden drawer, nestled among your earrings. But now, as you reached for one to tie up your hair with before washing your face, you only found there were two left.
You were meticulous about these things, always buying extras and keeping them in neat little rows. And yet, they seemed to vanish.
At first, you didn’t think much of it. You figured you might’ve misplaced them or accidentally lost a few. But then, you saw him—Dae-ho, the sweet, clingy man you adored—sitting on the couch with one of your black hair ties securing his messy ponytail.
You stared for a moment, confused. “Is that… mine?”
Dae-ho looked up from his book, his lips parting slightly as he realized what you were pointing at. Then he grinned sheepishly. “Oh… yeah. I couldn’t find mine, and, well, yours was just there…”
“Dae-ho!” you laughed, more amused than annoyed. “You could’ve asked.”
“I was going to put them back,” he said, looking so guilty you almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Of course I’d notice. My stash is gone because of you.”
He frowned softly, putting the book down and opening his arms, as if begging for a hug after being scolded by you.
His hand reached up to tug at the tie in his hair, looking up at you as you made your way over to him with a small sigh. “Do you want this one back?” he asked softly, worried you might actually be upset at him.
You shook your head as his arms wrapped around you, unable to resist when he started spreading little kisses on your forehead and temple. “No, you can keep it.” you hummed.
From that moment on, it became a habit—one you found a bit endearing, if you were being honest. Whenever Dae-ho needed a hair tie, he’d raid your wooden drawer without a second thought.
Sometimes he tried to be sneaky about it, but he wasn’t exactly subtle. You’d catch him rifling through your things, his broad shoulders hunched like a child caught stealing cookies.
Other times, he didn’t bother hiding it at all, simply plucking one from the drawer with a soft grin and a quick kiss on your lips—then a kiss on your face, as if that would make you forgive him. And it always did.
He didn’t mean to always steal your hair ties, not really. It was just... easier for him to snatch one from the drawer than to hunt down his own.
You didn’t really mind. Not on most days, anyway.
One evening though, you did need a hair tie—desperately.
You were halfway through making dinner when a gust of wind from the open window sent a strand of hair into your face. Cursing under your breath, you tucked it behind your ear, only for another strand to escape. The kitchen was too hot, the recipe was more effort than you’d anticipated, and your hair, usually manageable, felt like an uncooperative child refusing to behave.
“Dae-ho!” you called, wiping your hands on a dish towel.
He appeared in the doorway a moment later, his expression somewhere between apologetic and guilty, as if he already knew what you called out to him about. His hair was tied back, as usual, and you could see one of your missing hair ties keeping it in place.
“Yes... love?” he asked, his voice so soft and warm it nearly melted your resolve.
“I need a hair tie,” you said, folding your arms. “And it seems you’ve taken all of mine.”
He blinked, then glanced down at his wrist. You hadn’t noticed before, but he had a spare hair tie looped around it—your hair tie. Without hesitation, he pulled it off and handed it to you, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Here,” he said. “I always keep an extra for you. Just in case.”
For a moment, you were too stunned to speak. You stared at the hair tie in his hand, then back at his face. He looked so earnest, his eyes warm and full of love. It wasn’t just that he had thought to keep a spare for you—it was the fact that he had done it so naturally, so effortlessly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, even if he had taken it from you in the first place.
You took the band, your chest tightening with a wave of affection. He stepped closer to kiss the top of your head, his arms looping around your waist. “Don’t be mad. I love you.” he murmured softly, his nose buried in your hair as he nuzzled against you.
“I love you too, you thief,” you muttered, though there was no bite to your words. How could there be, when he was wrapped around you like that? Adorable and impossible to be mad at.
#kang dae ho#kang dae ho x reader#kang daeho#squid game#player 388#kang daeho x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game fic#squid game imagine#squid game x y/n#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid game x you#dae ho#dae ho x reader#dae ho fluff#player 388 x reader
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" THE KING'S OBSESSION "
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read part 2 here
𐙚 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 — a ruthless ruler who commands loyalty from all, yet becomes a desperate, obsessive mess when it comes to you, willing to destroy kingdoms just to keep you by his side . . .
𐙚 Trigger Warnings: Obsession, power imbalance, emotional. manipulation, implied captivity, and threats of violence.
You kept your head down, your hands trembling as you scrubbed the grand marble floors of the royal palace. Just another nameless servant in the king's vast estate, you worked tirelessly to keep your place in a world that cared little for someone like you.
The rumors about King Adrian were whispered in hushed tones among the maids. He was ruthless, ruling with an iron fist, but his charm was undeniable. His mere presence could silence a room, his sharp green eyes piercing through even the bravest of souls.
You had only seen him from afar—until the day fate crossed your paths.
It happened when you were carrying a heavy vase filled with fresh flowers, your arms straining under its weight. You misstepped, the vase slipping from your grasp and crashing to the floor. The sound echoed through the grand hall, and your heart dropped into your stomach as you realized King Adrian himself had just entered.
He paused, his eyes landing on you. You froze, breath hitching as you knelt, frantically gathering the shattered pieces.
“I-I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you avoided his gaze.
“Leave it,” he said, his voice low but commanding.
You stopped, your hands stilling. Slowly, you dared to glance up, meeting his piercing green eyes. His expression was unreadable, his gaze intense as it swept over you.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Y/n, Your Majesty,” you whispered.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Y/n,” he repeated, as though savoring the sound of your name. “How fitting.”
---
From that day on, you felt his presence everywhere. The king would linger in the halls where you worked, his gaze burning into you. At first, you tried to dismiss it as your imagination, but the gifts began to appear.
A necklace of pearls left on your cot. A fine dress, far beyond anything a maid could afford, folded neatly on your small bed. The other servants whispered, their envy thinly veiled, but unease churned in your chest.
One evening, a royal attendant summoned you to the king’s chambers. Your heart pounded as you stood before the massive double doors, anxiety tightening your throat.
When you stepped inside, Adrian was seated by the fireplace, a glass of wine in his hand. He looked up and smiled, motioning for you to approach.
“You’ve caught my attention, Y/n,” he said, setting the glass down. “And I am not a man who lets go of what he desires.”
Your breath hitched. “Your Majesty, I’m just a maid—”
“You’re mine,” he interrupted, his voice firm and unyielding. “From the moment I saw you, I knew. No one else will ever have you.”
You stepped back, fear curling in your stomach. “Your Majesty, please. I don’t belong in your world.”
Adrian rose from his chair, his imposing figure towering over you. “You belong to me,” he said, his tone soft but laced with steel. “Whether you realize it or not.”
Tears pricked your eyes, and you shook your head. “I can’t… I can’t be what you want.”
He stepped closer, cupping your cheek in his hand. His touch was deceptively gentle, but the obsession in his gaze was unmistakable. “You already are,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.
You flinched, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. “There is no escape from me, Y/n. You will stay by my side—whether as my queen or my prisoner. The choice is yours.”
Your voice cracked as you whispered, “Why me?”
His smile darkened. “Because you’re perfect. Because you’re mine. And I will destroy anyone who tries to take you from me.”
#male yandere x reader#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc x reader#yandere x female reader#yandere
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designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):
newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!
except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well…
oops. they summoned a demon.
which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.
but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.
okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?
weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”
Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?
Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.
it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.
Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?
“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor.
“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”
Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.
it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident.
But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.
the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??
they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.
Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.
but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.
they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm.
when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands.
Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.
magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.
they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.
“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.
Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”
abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.
Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him.
once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS
(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)
they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:
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#danny phantom#dp demon au#everlasting trio#when is it not lmao#zilly art#Tucker: oh I am SO climbing that#Tucker: no I'm serious get me a grappling hook
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You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt
Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.
This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.
"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."
"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.
The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.
"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."
"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.
The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.
"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.
"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.
Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.
"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."
The teens's lip curled.
"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.
"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."
"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."
"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.
"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.
"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."
"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."
Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.
"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.
"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.
"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.
"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.
"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.
"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.
"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.
"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morpheus." Constantine said.
The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.
"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"
The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.
"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.
"You wouldn't." He frowned.
"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."
The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.
"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.
"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"
The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.
The room went silent.
"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#batman#superman#wonder woman#john constantine#bruce wayne#clark kent#diana prince#dp clockwork#clockwork
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Dad!James Potter x Fem!Reader ☼ 946 words
series masterlist ; main masterlist
“He’s precious! He looks just like his daddy.” Miriam gushes, leaning in closer to Henry. James cringes as his baby boy flinches away, burying his head into his father’s chest and eyeing the woman with uncertainty. Henry’s tiny hands clutch James’s shirt, seeking comfort and protection from the unfamiliar face.
James knows Miriam from school, but they have never been close. She has always been the life of the party, a role he once embraced during their school days. Now, her enthusiasm feels overwhelming, especially to his shy and sensitive son. Perhaps he has mellowed more than he realizes since then—having a child at 20 would surely do that to you.
Miriam straightens up, placing a manicured hand on his bicep. With a slight pout to her lips, she says softly, “I heard about what happened to you and his mum. It must have been devastating.”
James tenses, his gaze shifting nervously to the store entrance, where he hopes Sirius, Remus, and you will hurry with their shopping and rescue him from this unwelcome conversation. The thought of discussing his ex, who left him and their son behind because she wasn’t ready for motherhood, fills him with a mix of frustration and anger. The memory of her sudden departure still stings, and he isn’t eager to relive those painful moments, especially with someone he barely knows.
“Yeah, it’s been tough, but we’re doing just fine without her,” James replies, his tone steady but strained. He takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to gently suggest that Miriam give them some space. “Anyway, Miriam—”
“That’s so unfortunate that he doesn’t have a mum in his life,” Miriam continues, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously at him. James immediately grasps where she is going with this. It’s not the first time his role as a father has attracted unwanted advances, but her bold approach leaves him momentarily stunned. If she had asked him out directly, it might have been different—though he doubts it would have made much of a difference.
“Miriam! Still hitting on unavailable men?” Sirius’s voice rings out with a teasing edge. James turns to see Sirius and Remus emerging from the store. Remus is scanning the receipt but looks up, startled at Sirius’s voice. You must still be browsing in the store.
“Unavailable?” Miriam repeats, her eyebrows raising in surprise. James can’t help but question the same thing, the word echoing in his mind.
“Very much so,” Sirius says with a firm nod as he and Remus come to stand beside James. Remus shoots Miriam a polite hello, but his expression reflects his lingering dislike for her from their school days.
“I didn’t know you were with someone,” Miriam mumbles, and James thinks about clarifying that he didn’t know it either.
The bell above the shop door chimes, announcing someone’s departure. James’s reaction to your voice is immediate and revealing; his eyes brighten, and his posture straightens as he turns to you. It’s clear from his response that he is deeply enamored with you.
And it isn’t just James. His son mirrors his father’s excitement. The little boy’s eyes light up with the same warmth, and he reaches out eagerly toward you. Henry babbles what sounds remarkably like “mama,” his tiny arms outstretched in an unmistakable plea for you to hold him. James hopes you don’t catch what his son is trying to say.
Your sweet voice rings out, “Jamie, I know you said not to spoil him, but they had the most adorable knit sweater—” You trail off, blinking in surprise as you notice Miriam’s disapproving gaze, her brow furrowed in irritation. You come to astop next to James, missing the way his son is staring you down.
“You bought him another sweater?” Remus asks, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. You shoot him a halfhearted glare, silently reminding him that he shouldn’t be commenting on it.
“Hi, Miriam. How have you been?” You greet her with a warm smile, though a hint of unease tugs at you. Miriam’s gaze feels unusually intense, leaving you slightly unsettled. You recall that you both got on well in school, so you’re unsure what might have shifted between you.
“Good. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you all, Jamie and I were just talking about—” Miriam trails off, her gaze fixed on James as he smoothly takes the shopping bag from you, allowing you to take Henry. Had you been fully listening, you would’ve frowned at the use of your nickname for James.
The transition is so effortless that it’s clear it’s well-practiced. You settle Henry comfortably on your hip, deftly rummaging through your purse until you find a pacifier. You gently pop it into his mouth, and Henry’s head droops onto your shoulder as he begins to suck contentedly, letting out a sigh that suggests he’s found his perfect spot.
James’s gaze is lovesick as he watches you. His heart catches in his throat as he sees you effortlessly produce a pacifier for his son. He’s well aware that your purse likely holds other baby essentials, even if you’d deny it. As he observes you, his thoughts drift, overwhelmed by the profound realization that Henry has a mum in his life— you.
You’re so focused on settling Henry that you don’t even notice Miriam’s silence, and James, so absorbed in you, is barely aware of her presence. You smile up at him while gently rocking his son, and James thinks, This is it. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.
Miriam turns to Sirius with a lowered voice, “I thought they were just friends. They were in school.”
“They were never just friends. Y/n has always been James’s weakness. Now she’s his son’s too.”
please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍
#james potter oneshot#james potter x reader#dad!james potter#dad!james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter fic#james potter imagine#james potter fanfiction#james potter blurb#james potter fluff#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter#james potter baby blurb#marauders fluff#marauders fanfiction#the marauders era
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DxDp prompt idea
Danny's going to college at Gotham University, he mainly moved to Gotham to keep an eye on Jazz who's working at Arkham and also because he got a scholarship, he sees a few of his classmates struggling so he gives them his summoning sigil, without saying it's his, and helps them understand their studies as the ancient of space in exchange for cans of soda or bags of chips or candy, things take a turn after Danny gives Jazz's boyfriend Jason a sigil without realizing who he is. Shortly after he discovers he (danny) has accidentally started a cult
"... so you started a cult. For what reason?" Jazz said, exasperated.
Danny shuffled his feet. "It wasn't on purpose."
"... so instead of giving people your phone number, you gave them a sigil of summoning, accidentally Pavlov'd them to give you offerings for your assistance, and then helped them with homework? Which also officially marks them as your follower and devotee?"
Danny winced. "When you say it like that, it sounds really bad."
Jazz gave him a look. "It is really bad. You're gaining a following, Danny, and soon, all of this worship will make you another god in this universe. I thought you wanted a normal school year?"
"Noooo..." Danny groaned. "I just wanted to be normal!"
Jazz shook her head to herself and sighed. "It's hopeless. You're going to become a god, Batman is doing to find you, and then the Observants are going to kill you. All because you accidentally started a new religion."
"I just wanted to help! How am I supposed to know that the crazies here are also superstitious?!"
The door opened then, with Jason stepping inside of the apartment. Both siblings turned to look at him. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand for Jazz and a bag of groceries in the other.
"Hey, did you guys hear? There's a new religion starting—"
"WE KNOW!!"
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#jazz fenton#danny fenton#anon ask#jason todd#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#danny is the ghost king
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”
“Good.”
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.
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Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”
“Oh? How so?”
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”
“We’re doing our best.”
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”
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You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.
Tattoos.
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.
He has a point.
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.
Don’t back down.
Don’t back down.
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.
“It’s his fault.” You murmur.
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours.
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”
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“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”
You nod. “Ozone.”
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.
“Why not?” She asks.
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.
That word again.
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”
You nod. “Thank you.”
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.
Ask for one thing that you want.
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.
You could ask for something that’s not material.
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.
You can want this.
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.
You want this.
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”
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You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.
This isn’t a want.
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.
“Come in.”
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/790b8016479682bd0369c99b1d2e7921/8ae9d8ae94389130-f6/s540x810/699a57731fa1c93a64f5d851fba04c9de3a944b8.jpg)
The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.
You’re going to be the death of him.
NEXT ->
Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#alpha beta omega#a/b/o#john price x reader#captain price x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#ghost x soap#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader
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Surprise Reflection
Red robin feels like he has been hit by a truck. He has no idea why he feels like this. He knows for a fact he was drugged and not hit over the head but there are more important things to worry about.
He wakes up tied to a chair with both rope and handcuffs. it's going to take a minute to get out. He looks around at his captors who make it very obvious that his initial guess of cult is correct.
There's a summoning Circle in the middle of the room that they're working on. He has no idea what there's summoning. No one's turned around to look at him and started villain monologuing to tell him. He sees two other people tied up and he recognizes them.
Red hood and spoiler in gear, which is an unexpected surprise he thought they were off tonight. Hood is still conked out but spoiler is awake and gagged. He wonders if she bit one of the cultists or if she tried Nightwings favorite tactic to be as annoying as possible.
He's busy trying to unravel the rope silently all the sudden he hears chanting. That is the worst thing to happen at this moment. He has basically zero backup as hood is incapacitated and spoiler is just as tied up as him.
Red robin tries to is yelling at the cultist trying to figure out what's going on or at least distracting them with the fact he's awake but they don't seem to hear him.
A being appeared in a blinding flash of white light. There is an unsettling feeling in the air that seemed to emerge with them.
Their eyes glowing such a bright green that you could barely make out the shapes of their face. Their hair seems to come down to their hips alternating from black to white. Their body forming itself right in front of their eyes turning into something not quite human but trying to be. the being turned to survey the room from the cultist to the heroes trying to stop whatever ritual this was.
“ WHO DARES” the being said, sounding as if they've been insulted.
“ Oh great being of chaos and Power, we have come before you to ask for a boon ” one of the cult members came forward to say.
“what is this boon you wish for” The being asks clearly not wanting to be here.
“if the mighty one would will it we would be most grateful to have the ones known as the Justice League destroyed”
The Being stopped for a moment as if trying to figure out what the cult leader had just said.
“Is this a fu*king cult”
That stopped everyone in their tracks.
“I would not call it a cult, I would call it a group created to promote your greatness.” the cult member says trying to save the situation.
“ That's a cult,“ The Beings seem to start laughing as they realize who had summoned them. ”is this seriously what's going on. who the hell even is this Justice League that you've decided they need to be destroyed.”
“ They are people who promote the destruction of ourselves and have been working too stop the spread of your greatness.”
“ Your majesty,” Red Robin says, hoping to swing this one there way as it's obvious whatever this thing it is not exactly fond of Cults. “We are Protectors of the place that these people have been trying to destroy.”
“Are you trying to make me go against Heroes” The Being said, even without a clear look at their face you could tell they're in disbelief.
“You Dare,” The anger in their voice makes it very clear they are dangerous ”I am created from one of Realm's Greatest protectors. you dare try and make me destroy Heroes. I will enjoy giving you to the nightmare dimension”
Another bright light appeared though this time instead of just being inside the circle it covered the entire room. This time the light was a ombre of green and blue. Once the light dispersed all of the cult members seemed to have disappeared.
In the center of the room where the summoning Circle originally was stands a girl. her eyes are the same bright green with white hair but this time with a human face. A familiar face. She's wearing jeans with a constellation hoodie and matching Converse.
“apologies for the inconvenience I do quite hate when I'm summoned” The girl disappears just as she finishes speaking.
It took Red Robin a while to realize what was confusing him but the second she left he realized. She had Damian's face. From the shape of his nose and the resemblance to Bruce even down to the bright Lazarus green eyes. She was a mirror image and he had no idea what that meant for them.
#dani phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc x dp crossover#batman#batfam#dcxdp#batfamily#timothy drake#dc tim drake#tim drake#tim drake wayne#ellie fenton#dani fenton
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Snitches the cat and his favorite bat
I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.
EDIT
The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!
Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.
Word count is 1053.
Tumblr reference
masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics
“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”
“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”
Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.
Wait, what?
“You fucked this up.”
His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?
He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.
“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.
The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”
He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.
“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.
Uh- what now?
Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!
‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.
He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!
The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.
“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!
“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”
Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!
The window burst in.
Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-
Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.
Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-
He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.
“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”
Danny loved him.
The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.
Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.
Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.
“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”
“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.
The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”
“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”
Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.
“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.
“Not that fugly thing.”
Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.
“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”
“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.
That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.
“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.
He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.
Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?
“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”
The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”
Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”
That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”
Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!
Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”
“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.
Robin and Danny both growled that time.
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