#Pakistan Movement | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cimmanonrowl · 5 months ago

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Eat Your Young pt.1

Part Two | Masterlist

It was a blessing when you were offered a job to look after a kid named Jack. He is a good one– smart, funny, a little cheeky but obeys you nonetheless. His father was all the same— Mr. Hotchner. He pays really well and on time, and made sure that after his arrival from Pakistan, you finally learn to accept your hidden desires.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected, rough sex, dom!aaron, daddy kink, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pussy-eater bearded aaron.

You were supposed to find Jack in ten minutes.

Ten minutes maximum, you told yourself. That is the only reason why you confidently agreed to play hide and seek with that hyperactive, sugar-high of a child. Just ten minutes.

Now you couldn’t breathe in panic.

“Jack!” your trembling voice echoed down the hallway as you peered through rooms you had ransacked just three minutes ago. “Jack, please. Where are you, honey?”

Nothing.

The heavy sound of your frantic steps pierced the silence as you bolted downstairs, feeling even more lightheaded as the gnawing anxiety grew harshly and clawed at your insides. The silence reverberating through every corner of the house felt extremely taunting. Yet, with the rush of worry you feel for the kid, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else.

Your chest hurts, your mind racing with every horrid scenario, each thud echoing in your ears as you rush to the kitchen. Shortly after you were hired and joined their little family, Jessica told you everything she felt you needed to be aware of. And you knew what Jack had to go through as a kid. He and his father had gone through terrible things you weren’t even sure it was possible to handle.

Warm tears now flooded your eyes as you desperately scanned every nook and cranny— he was not under the table, not inside the empty kitchen cabinet, nor behind the dining room curtains.

“Jack Hotchner!” you tried keeping the tremor out of your voice, making yourself sound assertive and annoyed as an attempt to scare him, yet your panic still found a way to lace at each word. “This isn’t funny anymore, Jack! I’m telling your dad!”

You darted to the living room, ripping aside the couch cushions and peeking behind and under every piece of furniture. Now your breath comes in shallow gasps. With each movement, the very memory of his mischievous giggle haunted you, ringing inside your brain.

When you realized the kid wasn’t there, you sprinted again upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Your mind continuously raced with possibilities. Did he sneak out? Is he hiding in the attic? The basement? Jesus Christ, did you even lock the front door?

You throw open the closet in the hallway, pushing aside winter coats and a pile of boxes. “Jack! I’m serious! Come out!”

Desperation edged even closer.

The bathroom door swung open with a creak as you pushed through the room. But to your horror, it was all empty, too.

You staggered back to his bedroom with quick steps. Your very last hope. You flung open the toy chest, rummaging through the chaos of plastic dinosaurs, action figures, and Lego blocks. Still nothing. It didn’t even cross your mind that a kid as old as Jack wouldn’t fit in a small wooden toy box; your mind was too frantic to think logically.

“Jack! Where are you?” you dropped to your knees, peering under his bed, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Jack, come out!”

You stood by the window and started biting on your nails— a habit you developed when you’re too anxious to function. You clutched your phone tightly as you hugged yourself, fingers trembling, contemplating to finally dial for help. From the window you observed that the garden looked empty as always, the back shed had always been locked, and you couldn’t see anyone behind the bushes— Jack was nowhere to be found.

The dread is almost paralyzing, a heavy weight pressing firmly on your chest.

And just as you made up your mind to go outside and check properly, your phone vibrated on your hand. Blood drained on your face as you glanced at the screen and read the familiar name on the caller’s I.D.

Mr. Hotchner.

Jack’s father. Your employer— who also happens to be a big shot FBI agent. If he learned that you lost his son in a hide-and-seek game, no matter how warmhearted, accommodating, and considerate that man is of your needs and well-being, you get this nagging feeling that you might end up floating on a river somewhere with no leads of any kind or prime suspect to consider.

You rubbed your eyes as you accepted the call, your doom at the same time. “H-hello?”

“Hey,” Aaron’s voice crackles through the line, distant yet filled with warmth. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Jack doing?”

Your throat tightened as you listened.

“Mr. Hotchner…”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Hotchner…” your fingers gripped the phone tightly as you let out a strangled sob. “I... I can’t find Jack. We– we were playing hide and seek, and now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere,” warm tears flowed down your cheeks as you continued, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been l-looking… I swear. I’m really sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear Aaron’s heartbeat sync with your frantic pulse. You braced for the incoming screams, expecting him to ridicule your incompetence. After all, you’ve always thought of Mr. Hotchner as someone who never hesitates to pinpoint someone’s inefficiency. Maybe today you’ll have enough luck to prove your theory.

But in a calm voice, Aaron Hotchner said softly instead, “Alright, I need you to stay calm for me, sweetheart. Are you sure you checked everywhere?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you sniffed quietly in relief, rubbing your nose and the tears streaming down your face. “Everywhere. The cabinets, the cupboards, h-his toy box…”

A brief silence fell with that, and you bit your lip in embarrassment. “His toy box? You don’t suppose he’s gonna fit in there, do you?” Aaron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. What a silly, little girl.

“T-that’s not the point, sir!”

“Did you check the front door? Is the back door locked?”

“Yes. I always make sure to lock it.”

“Have you checked my office then?”

“N-no…” you drawled in confusion, frowning as you went back to biting the edge of your nail. “Should I?”

What kind of question is that? Why would you even go there? That’s the only room in his house that you don’t welcome yourself. Mr. Hotchner may have never told you so but you’re fully aware of all the confidential documents he’s storing inside. You can’t afford to be thrown in jail for obstructing a case because you have mistaken a case file as trash and thrown it out.

“It’s worth a look. Jack likes playing in there when I’m working,” Aaron’s tone suddenly shifted, his voice turning quiet as he started with his order. “There’s a wooden crate beside my desk, check that first.”

You hesitated. “But, I don—”

“Just check, sweetheart, please,” Aaron interrupted, gently but firmly as always. “I trust you.”

The sincerity in his words cut through your anxiety. Aaron trusts you. So you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself before stepping out of his son’s room.

“Jack, you really scared her. You know you’re supposed to come out when you’re called, right?” Aaron’s firm voice filled the kitchen moments later.

Jack glanced at you as if feigning confusion. As you know him well, he was obviously thrilled with the chaos he caused. You sat beside him at the kitchen table, eyeing the little devil while you prepare your own food, listening to his father’s reprimand. Jack’s legs swung back and forth under the table, excitedly munching on a sandwich wrap you made for his lunch.

“I was just hiding, Dad. It’s hide and seek, that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Jack’s small brows furrowed like his father’s as he looked down at his plate.

“Yes, I know, buddy,” A soft sigh rang audible through the line. “But it’s just a game, you can’t hide so well that no one can find you. It’s important to keep everyone safe, especially when I’m not there.”

Jack’s lower lip jutted out even further. “But that’s the point of the game, Dad. Players need to hide well.”

“Yes, buddy, but what I’m saying is…” Aaron sighed again, struggling to weave a perfect explanation for his son. “Everything fun should be done in moderation. You scared her, and me, because we thought something bad happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Thank you, buddy, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to. You made her worry.”

“I...” Jack stopped chewing, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win.”

The scolding seemed to have hit its mark, and you reached over, ruffling the little guy’s hair. “It’s okay, honey. Just don’t hide so well next time, alright?”

Jack stared at you and nodded solemnly, but then his pout deepened. “Dad grew his beard. I don’t like it.”

You suppressed a smile, glancing at the phone where you could see Aaron’s face on the screen. Despite the grainy connection, you can see the dark shadow of a beard on his jawline.

Aaron chuckled at what he heard, the sound of his deep voice humorous. “I had to, buddy. It’s hard to shave here every day.”

Jack shrugged as he took a big bite of his food. “You look like a bear.”

“What?!” Aaron said incredulously.

“You should shave, Dad. We’re gonna look like Masha and the Bear when you come home.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, shaking your head.

Only if you were asked, you’d say how the full beard really absolutely suited Aaron. Now he looked rugged— a stark contrast to his usually neat and well-kept appearance. Regardless, he seemed to look even more handsome and manly. And God, he looks so fucking hot he should be put behind the bar.

But well, it’s a good thing no one bothered asking your opinion; how are you supposed to answer in front of a kid, anyway?

You’ve always admired this man, that’s for sure. He and his neatly ironed suits, clean-cut hair, and authoritative nature had always been an incredible sight to look at— but this new look?

This.

This makes you think of lewd things in broad daylight.

“Well, buddy your best friend doesn’t seem to mind it,” Aaron caught your eye through the screen, a small smile playing on his lips.

Crimson red dusted on your cheeks with the teasing, but you managed to smile back. “Uhuh, it’s not so bad, Jack. Maybe you’ll get used to it.”

Jack scrunched his nose but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he picked up his sandwich again and took a big bite. You shook your head in amusement, holding Aaron’s gaze on the screen briefly before you had to look away because...

That damn fucking beard.

“Alright, I also have to grab some dinner now,” Aaron said after a few beats of silence. “Jack, be good for her, okay? She might run away if you continue scaring her. We don’t want that, do we?”

Jack nodded, still chewing. “Okay, Dad. No more.”

“I love you, buddy.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

“And you,” Aaron’s voice softened even more as he addressed you, a soft crinkle present in his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”

You could only nod, and smile, and look away as your heart pounded against your chest. “No worries. Keep safe, Mr. Hotchner.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with warmth and something you couldn’t decipher, before the call disconnected. With a sigh, you looked back at Jack, who was already reaching for a second sandwich wrap, mumbling about how his father would soon end up like Hagrid.

The soft click echoed in the quiet house as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your high heels, groaning and wincing in pain, before dropping your keys into the bowl on the console table. The house feels emptier than usual, with Jack spending the night at his Aunt Jessica’s. It was a setup that she and Aaron agreed on before; to let Jack stay overnight every Friday and go home by the afternoon the next day.

As you make your way down the hallway, it doesn’t escape your notice that the kitchen lights are open. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home, not at this late hour anyway, and the sight stopped you in your tracks. Burglar was your first thought.

So naturally, you took several tentative steps closer, peeking around the corner.

Surprise flickered across Aaron’s features as he noticed you, quickly masking it with a strained smile. He was standing by the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of brandy open.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than how you remembered months ago, “I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“I should say the same to you.”

You had no idea he’s coming home today. His travel-worn face was illuminated by the warm kitchen light; a glass of amber liquid swirls in the rock glass in his hand. While his eyes were shadowed with something unreadable, never leaving yours.

You manage a small smile in return, though it feels heavy. “But yeah, the date ended earlier than expected.”

Not just the date but your entire evening hadn’t gone as planned, and you can still feel the weight of disappointment tugging at your shoulders.

Aaron nodded but didn’t say anything about it.

Silence settled between the two of you. His eyes flickered to the drink in his hand, while he took a slow sip, as if buying time. You didn’t dare glance away as you stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in front of him.

“I didn’t know you’d be home today. How was your trip?” you asked, genuinely curious but also eager to fill the void.

He shrugged, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Busy. Tiring. The usual.” His gaze returned to you, lingering a moment too long. “You okay?”

The concern in his voice was unmistakable. You nodded, but the gesture also felt hollow. “Yeah, just... you know, one of those nights.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away, staring into his glass. “Want to talk about it?”

You hesitated, not sure if you’re ready to unpack the disappointment just yet, and also considering the fact that he must be tired from his flight. But there’s something in Aaron’s presence that you always found comforting, you just had to go on.

“Maybe later,” you said softly, wandering your eyes around until it landed on the wine shelf. “Can I join you?”

He nodded without hesitation, watching you in silence as you grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Aaron’s eyes met yours again as you settled back, and for a moment, something flickered in their depths— something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Aaron’s eyes were focused on you as you set the bottle on the counter and reach for the corkscrew. The maroon silk of your dress catches the light; it was a simple one, nothing too flashy nor revealing. Just enough to accentuate your figure and compliment your skin well. You don’t understand why heat licked your neck as you became aware of Aaron’s eyes lingering on you.

With a soft pop, the cork comes free, and you pour yourself a generous amount. You took your own seat on the barstool. And with your slow movements, the maroon dress clings to your form, highlighting your curves in a way that makes Aaron’s breath catch.

He tried to look away, but his apprehensive eyes kept returning to you.

“There’s a practice game this Sunday. Jack will be happy to know you’ll be watching,” you cleared your throat, eyes focused on the alcohol swirling around the clear glass.

Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, trying to collect his thoughts, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. The dress, with its silky sheen and soft drape, made you look not just elegant but breathtakingly sexy- a fact that Aaron is finding increasingly hard to ignore.

“Yeah, I’m planning to surprise him tomorrow. Maybe we can pick him up early from Jess? Then we can grab a lunch outside.”

You gave him a smile. “Sure, sounds nice.”

As you settled deeper into the conversation, your attention narrowed down to Aaron. He’s leaning against the marble counter, the soft kitchen light casting a warm glow on him. His beard was slightly thicker than you remember, giving him an almost roguish look that you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive. And hot.

He’s so hot.

He was clad in one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The shirt fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the hint of muscle underneath. Even the veins running through the surface of his arm were visible.

The sight makes your heart flutter, and you found yourself admiring the way he looked tonight, with a brandy glass cradled in his big, calloused hand. You wonder how it would feel to have those strong hands grip you tightly, his fingers playing with your pussy, his lips on your neck.

“So,” Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “how was the date?”

You took a sip of your drink, the question making your chest tighten again, but you answered lightly. “It was... okay, I guess? Not what I anticipated, though.”

His eyes are on your face, but they keep flickering to your dress, tracing the line of your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. “What happened?”

“He was nice and all… but I don’t know…” Aaron nodded as you struggled recalling the events of evening, and you can tell he wants more details. “It’s just awkward, as always.”

“Did you go anywhere special?”

“We went to that new Italian place downtown. Dave said the food was great so I wanted to try…” you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. The movement makes the dress shimmer, and Aaron’s gaze follows the motion, almost mesmerized. “I just thought it’d be better, you know? It’s our third date, anyway.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and he took a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. Well, that’s what happens, I guess,” You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.

“Yeah,” his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Aaron’s eyes lingered on you before finally, he spoke again, his tone light but his curiosity evident.

“Did he at least appreciate the dress? You look... incredible tonight.”

A blush warmed your cheeks, making you giggle to yourself. “He did compliment it, but I don’t think he noticed much beyond that.”

“He’s an idiot then,” Aaron said quickly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Then he looked down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. “I mean, it’s a beautiful dress, and it suits you really well.”

The compliment made your smile grow wider.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” your cheeks heat up as quickly as you realize what you’ve just said, but you don’t think you have to take it back. “Pakistan’s that rough?”

“You could say that,” Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise and a touch of pleasure. He straightened slightly, a small, almost bashful yet equally beautiful smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Jack will volunteer to shave this beard off.”

“But it suits you…” you murmured mostly to yourself, your eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the way the beard added a certain depth to his features. “He’s just teasing you.”

Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that draws your attention to the subtle flex of his muscle. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”

“No, it’s perfect,” you replied, your voice softening. “Makes you look... distinguished.”

He took a slow sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself caught in the moment, drowning in his presence and the wetness slowly pooling in between your thighs.

“So you like it?”

Oh, you love it. “Yes.”

Aaron stepped a little closer, settling beside you as you glanced up at him from your seat. The scent of his perfume, mixed with the subtle hint of brandy, filled your senses. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Tell me about your date,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of something more in his eyes.

“There’s not much to tell,” you said with a laugh, your voice catching slightly. “It was just... dull and boring.”

“Dull? How so?”

“Just…” you bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. “You know.”

“I can’t say I know, doll. Use your words.”

Your heart raced but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stared back at him with the same intensity, blinking through your eyelashes almost innocently. “He… he doesn’t make me feel like you do.”

A beat.

Your heart drummed wildly against your ears.

And Aaron’s eyes darkened with the invitation.

“And how do I make you feel, angel?” he whispered softly.

“Like you actually want me.”

“Which I fucking do,” he leaned in, his breath slowly mingling with yours. “More than you know.”

Aaron’s hand moved to your waist, his touch light but possessive. Your heart pounded wildly as you stared into his eyes.

“Show me then,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed, your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly slow and deliberately teasing way.

“Aaron...” you whined, your voice heavy with need. “Please...”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t k-know…”

His grip tightened on your hips, his voice rough and demanding. “I think you’re lying, pretty girl.”

“Aaron...”

“I said,” he asked again, gruffly this time. “What do you want?”

“Want your m-mouth on me, Aaron, please...”

A quick swipe of his tongue wetted his lower lip, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.”

His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer. And all you knew from that second is the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.

“Aaron-” a low growl rumbled from his chest as your fingers tangled through his hair, pushing him even closer to your dripping cunt. “Tha- God, that feels good…”

Aaron hummed lightly, running the calloused pad of his palm on the soft surface of your thighs, feeling the bumps rising on your skin along with your pleasure. He darted his eyes to your face with his mouth still on your cunt, his lips nibbling your clit, watching you breathe heavily while containing the whine caught right in your throat.

When you propped onto your elbow and met his gaze, you could barely register the drunk look on his eyes.

“I’m c-close…” you whispered, pleadingly so. “Aaron… please…”

You didn’t have to say anything else. The contrast between the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard creates a heady, intoxicating burn. The rough graze of his beard against your inner thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back, forcing yourself closer to his mouth, to his touch; even closer to his heat.

You have never been treated this way– never had a partner who takes pleasure in pleasuring you. The warmth of Aaron’s breath fanned through your clit as he licked and prod his tongue on your entrance, feeling the burning scrape of his stubble with every movement. It’s both gentle and painful, enough to make your skin tingle and your heart race; chasing the heightening pleasure and your incoming orgasm.

“So good, doll…” he whispered roughly, encouragingly, his attention focused only at you. “Fuck, it’s so hot.”

He leaned away only for a moment, straightening his back as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. In the blink of an eye, the sight of his muscular chest and soft stomach salivated you. You’ve known he’s hairy, but now that you saw the dark trail of hair on his abdomen down to his…

Aaron looked smug.

“Dirty girl, like what you’re seeing?”

You hummed hoarsely. “Want you, please. D-daddy?”

Aaron groaned at your words. And you noticed how his palm flew to the obvious bulge on his pants, squeezing his aching cock as if your words hurt him. Or pleased him, you don’t know. All you registered was the faint satisfaction in his smile and the glint of hunger in his piercing eyes.

He ran his palm on your thighs lovingly. “Cum on Daddy’s mouth first. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Although he posed that as a question, you knew it was an order. And who are you to defy him when he generously licked through your folds and sucked on your clit like a starved man? He’s not devouring you like relinquishing his final meal; instead, like you are the very first meal he ever tasted and cannot get enough of. He eats you like someone will take you away from him. But even if they do, he wants to make sure it’s his mouth and big cock you’ll crawl back to.

The world seemed so far away as you let yourself drown in the pleasure, all while Aaron occasionally fucks his tongue in and out of your needy cunt.

“Close, angel?” he asked before spitting on your pussy and swirling his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven, baby.”

You nodded dumbly.

“You’ve no idea how many nights I fucked my fist to this thought.”

Your release inched closer, roused by his deep groans and heavy breathing. You were not even past the vulgar image of him spitting on your cunt when you felt one of his fingers gently swiping through your wetness, his touch light as a ghost, and you shuddered as you realized what will come next.

You gasped and moaned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair on both of your hands. “Need you n-now, please… enough…”

“Just one, angel. Just give me one on my tongue,” he demanded, his eyes dark with need. “You can do that for Daddy, right baby? I’ll fuck you good later, I promise.”

You clenched around his finger as he slowly slid into you, then out, slowly gaining rhythm and speed that reflected your racing heart. He thrust in and out, and in and out, until he decided you could take another finger, then another one. You’ve never felt so full, but good God if you say you didn’t fantasize about getting fingerfucked by your boss, you’d be sent to hell for lying.

He nibbled. He sucked. He licked. His fingers never once stopped assaulting your wet, squelching cunt. With every drag of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you could hear a deep growl rumbling through his chest. And his eyes watched you, taking in the way you writhe in pleasure, the way your thighs tremble, and how your eyes welled in tears.

“Please… p-please…” you whimpered pathetically, your fingers tightening on his hair. “C-close, ‘m so close… daddy…”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl.”

“D-daddy!” you screamed loudly when his teeth grazed your now sensitive clit.

“Fucking cum for me. Make me proud, angel.”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your orgasm ripped through you. His words grew distant as it happened, showering you still with lewd praises: how good you taste, how warm and tight your cunt would be, and how he expects you to take his big cock.

“S-stop… A-” you trashed away from his grip. “Too m-much. D-daddy, no! Stop! S-stop! Too much!”

His fingers continued abusing the sensitive nerves deep inside you, groaning loudly as your walls tightened around him. “A little more, sweet girl. One more for Daddy…”

“N-no–” Tears slid down your cheeks in overstimulation, feeling the rough drag of his fingers inside your tight cunt and his lips on your clit. “Oh, g-god! I’m close again… D-daddy! Don’t s-stop, p-please!”

“Good girl, angel. Look at you... that’s it, baby.”

He trailed wet kisses along your skin as he moved upward, kneading your tits, lingering a bit longer on your hardened nipples. You haven’t gone down from your last orgasm when you already felt the tip of his cock prodding at your pulsating cunt.

You whimpered weakly, not fully aware of your surrounding anymore.

“Hey, hey…” you heard Aaron whisper, his voice soft and gentle, caressing your face lovingly as he observed your expression. “Good? Do you want to stop, sweetheart?”

You shook your head. “I will kill you if you stop.”

“Ah,” he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His pace was slow at first, achingly so and deliberate. But it didn’t last long. From laying on your back on the cold, marble kitchen counter, you found yourself bent over on the kitchen table, with Aaron’s girthy cock ramming in and out of your cunt. And all you could do was take it, moaning loudly to Aaron’s satisfaction.

“Fucking hell. Should’ve fucked this pussy long before–” he rambled deeply from behind, pistoling his hips at a brutal pace. “You like this, huh? You like Daddy fucking your tight pussy?”

You bit your thumb as your legs trembled, but you didn’t answer.

And that’s when you felt it.

A harsh slap on your ass.

“Answer me, you fucking slut,” he drawled in between heavy breaths. “Did I fuck you dumb, huh?”

“Y-yes–” you struggled to say, trying to keep your legs steady amidst the intense waves of pleasure. “G-good… so much…”

Aaron barked an amused laugh. “Fuck. You sound so cockdrunk.”

With each thrust, you felt the familiar coil tightening on your stomach. Your words were muffled as you tried to warn him, and all that came out of your lips was a high-pitched whimper.

Aaron’s grip on your hips hardened. “I’m c-close. Where should I cum, angel? Inside? Should I cum inside?”

“C-close…” you echoed mindlessly, not understanding a word he said.

“Do you want me to fuck a baby inside you?”

“Yes… y-yes… inside, Daddy, please....”

Tears streamed down your cheeks when you felt Aaron’s hot cum spill inside you, his thick cock throbbing. You trembled against him as you reached your own climax, your lips drawn to a silent scream as he expertly rubbed your clit through your orgasm.

“One more. Can you give Daddy one more, sweet girl?” you heard him whisper encouragingly.

With a strained moan and eyes shut tight, you finally let out a gush of release. The force was so sudden Aaron had to pull out and watch his own cum drip down your thighs. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the pool of wetness glistening on his kitchen floor.

And fucking hell, that felt so good.

Aaron didn’t waste a second and quickly knelt behind you, separating your weak and trembling legs carefully before running his tongue on your spent and dripping cunt. You shivered at the feeling of his beard scratching the back of your thigh but you let him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue following the trail of his own release that drips down your legs.

“Too m-much, Aaron. Please…” you plead softly, sighing as you felt his fingers spread out your pussy.

“Just a taste, angel. Can you push out more of my cum?”

He keened and hummed as he gathered his own release on his tongue. And before you even know it, he was already kissing you, watching his own cum and spit reach your waiting tongue as you innocently glanced up at him, a far-gone look on your face.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered later on as he gently laid you down on his warm bed, now wrapped in his old, oversized t-shirt and newly bathed.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, and cheeks, then nose, before kissing you lovingly on the lips. “Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.”

For tag list request, here.

Your girl finally got her energy back after taking 4 pills of Vitamin B. LOL. Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated. Hope you're having an incredible day and drink your water! (PS. Do you guys know I just realized I can reblog your reblogs with comments? I'm so dumb.)

Tags: @kimstills @readergf @downbad4reid @gghostwriter @elhotchner @pastelpinkflowerlife @the1boss @roseydoesypoesy @khxna @hangmanscoming @apollolynx98 @its-just-me-chey

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female!reader #bearded!aaron hotchner #munch!hotch #bearded aaron

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ayowotsdis · 6 months ago

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If you cannot see your Bangladeshi moots online today it's because the government shut off the internet and call lines amidst the violence they are enacting upon their own student protests. I personally haven't been able to contact my family and friends back home for more than 10 hours.

#bangladesh #desi #desiblr #bengali #india #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #pakistan #west bengal #banglablr #bangla news #bangla #bangla blockade #savethestudents #save dhaka #bangladesh students #palestine #world news #international news #quota movement

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timetravellingkitty · 11 months ago

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KASHMIR MASTERLIST

Background

History of Kashmir from 250 BC to 1947 [to understand Kashmir's multi religious history and how we got to 1947]

Broad timeline of events from 1947 to the abrogation of Article 370 of the Indian Constitution in 2019 (BBC) [yes, BBC. hang on just this once]

Human Rights Watch report based on a visit to Indian controlled Kashmir in 1998 [has a summary, background, human rights abuses and recommendations]

Another concise summary of the issue

Sites to check out

Kashmir Action - news and readings

The Kashmiriyat - independent news site about ongoings in Kashmir

FreePressKashmir - same thing as previous

Kashmir Law and Justice Project - analysis of international law as it applies to Kashmir

Stand with Kashmir - awareness, run by diaspora Kashmiris (both Pandit and Muslim)

These two for more readings and resources on Kashmir: note that the petitions and donation links are from 2019 and also has explainers on the background (x) (x)

To read

Do You Remember Kunan Poshpora? - about women in the Kashmiri resistance movement and the 1991 mass rape of Kashmiri women in the twin villages of Kunan and Poshpora by Indian armed forces

Until My Freedom Has Come: The New Intifada in Kashmir - a compliation of writings about the lives of Kashmiris under Indian domination

Colonizing Kashmir: State Building under Indian Occupation - how Kashmir was made "integral" to the Indian state and examines state-building policies (excerpt)

Resisting Occupation in Kashmir - about the social and legal dimensions of India's occupation

On India's scapegoating of Kashmiri Pandits, both by Kashmiri Pandits (x) (x)

Of Gardens and Graves - translations of Kashmiri poems

Social media

kashiirkoor

museumofkashmir

kashmirpopart

posh_baahar

readingkashmir

standwithkashmir and their backup account standwithkashmir2 (main account is banned in India wonder why)

kashmirlawjustice

kashmirawareness

jammugenocide (awareness about the 1947 genocide abetted by Maharaja Hari Singh and the RSS)

To watch

Jashn-e-Azadi: How We Celebrate Freedom parts 1 and 2 - a documentary about the Kashmiri freedom struggle (filmed by a Kashmiri Pandit)

Paradise Lost - BBC documentary about how India and Pakistan's dispute over the valley has affected the people

Kashmir - Valley of Tears - the exhaustion with the conflict in the post nineties

In the Shade of Fallen Chinar - art as a form of Kashmiri resistance

Human rights violations (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Land theft and dispossession (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

A note: I know annoying Desis are going to see this and go "Oh but Kashmir is Pakistan's because-" and "Kashmir is an integral part of India because-". I must make my stance clear: Kashmir belongs to the Kashmiris, the natives, no matter what religion they belong to. Neither Pakistan nor India get to decide the matter of Kashmiri sovereignty. The reasons given by both parties as to why Kashmir should be a part of either nation are bullshit. The United Nations itself recognises Kashmir as a disputed region, so I will not entertain dumbfuckery. I highly encourage fellow Indians especially to take the time to go through and properly understand the violence the government enacts on Kashmiris. I've also included links to learn more about Kashmiri culture because really, what do the rest of us know about it? Culturally and linguistically Kashmir differs so much from the rest of India and Pakistan (also the amount of fetishization of Kashmiri women...yikes). This is not just a bilateral issue between these two nations over land, this actually affects the people of Kashmir. And if you're still here, thank you for reading

#this took a month of my life i'm not even kidding #ANYWAYS. hi. here you go.#kashmir #india #resources #important #history

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ianduncankinnie · 5 months ago

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I often post about Palestine but I'd like to take a moment to talk about what's happening in Bangladesh.

KEEP YOUR EYE ON BANGLADESH

TL;DR Students killed for protesting the government's quota system. Students are being arrested and murdered for speaking up about their deceased friends. Everyone is being threatened by the government and many social media platforms are being banned.

All I'm asking is to spread the word. Please. International pressure really works for our nation. We're dying here. UNICEF reports 34 children dead. There might be more. All reblogs and likes and shares are appreciated. Thank you. I guess I'll see you tomorrow.

Past

A movement protesting the government's quota system put forth by the father of our nation Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. This was placed in the first place to help the grandchildren of those who fought in the Liberation War of our country to get government jobs. We have a terrible job market here which is why many highly educated people leave the country. On 16th July, While protesting, a Student named Abu Sayed of Begum Rokeya University was killed by the police. This only stoked the feelings of injustice between the students.

During a press conference, the PM was asked about the quota for the grandchildren of veterans. Her response? "If we don't give jobs to the grandchildren of Veterans, will we give jobs to the grandchildren of Razakars?" Razakars are the people who collaborated with the Pakistani Forces to bring down the Bangladeshi freedom fighters. They betrayed the nation for their own gain.

Traitors.

Imagine calling the youth of your nation traitors.

Imagine calling almost 14 million young people who can't find a job despite their credentials betrayers.

Imagine cursing people who are protesting for job equality under a government with the all time highest corruption in the history of this nation.

On 17th July the broadband connection centre in Mohakhali was burned down. Mobile data services and communication were shut down by the PM. After 11 days the internet was properly restored.

On 19th July, A National Military Curfew was put in place by the Prime Minister to mitigate the unrest.

But that was last month. If you need details I highly recommend sources in Bangladesh like the Daily Star or reputable like Al Jazeera. The quota has since been lifted. Lives were lost. But it was for a good cause, right?

Right?

RIGHT?

Present

Well no. There's still a curfew in the capital. Several districts like Cumilla are still under attack. The government warns of not spreading misinformation yet still lie about the severity of the issue. The police are arresting those who protest as well as those who speak up. The students are demanding for the resignation of the PM. The PM obviously refuses to apologise or even acknowledge the deaths of some 147?

or is it 200?

They're not counting how many they're killing. They're not letting anyone else count either.

It is midnight here. This morning as in 4th August 2024, the students have called for a non cooperation movement. The Ruling Party Awami League will also be holding rallies across the nation tomorrow. I do not know what is going to happen to me. I do not want to think of what will happen to my family tomorrow. I don't really care. What I'm truly scared for is the future. As these protests do not end well here.

Future

Precedence says the PM will eventually resign. Every student protest of our nation has ended in momentary success.

Momentary

What comes after is usually a military regime. A caretaker government until a next government is chosen in a supposed election. Even then if they decide to hold an election. The caretaker government is usually run as a dictatorship. It was true for the 60s. It was true for the 90s. I don't doubt it will happen again.

I'm graduating next year. My niece is still new to the academic system. I wish her the best. My grandmas and grandpas are dead. Nobody left to pray for me. My aunts and uncles are growing old. My cousins can't speak up for fear. My mom is so tired. My dad is angry. I'm unsure if I will still be able to post the next couple of days.

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archiveofliterature · 1 year ago

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that one line about ramy's bangla being rudimentary made me absolutely sob (i'm bengali) and i wanna talk about why

there's so much to it both contextually with ramy's character as well as historically. contextually because ramy is fluent in 6 languages, an insane number of languages for one person but none of which are his mother tongue. he's described as a performer, one who knows he can't blend in so instead he stands out as a means to escape as much of the racism as he can. he gets lost in it that he almost forgets who he is; this is reflected in his language ability too – he gets so lost in his linguistic academics he just barely remembers the native language of his home place that he adores.

and honestly, you can't even really blame ramy for it at all when it was induced. it's the british who saw urdu, arabic and persian as more valuable than bangla, it's the british that make ramy put on this act so he can literally stay alive. and when you know the historical relevancies between urdu and bangla, it hurts so much that ramy was forced to forget bangla

very brief history context: after the partition, where british india was split into india, pakistan and east pakistan (now bangladesh) bangla was seen as inferior to urdu due to its hindu connections. bengalis experienced so much shit because of this (and bengali muslims are still dealing with the internalised cultural racism today honestly). pakistanis tried to make the official language urdu, even though literally everyone in east pakistan were bengali and spoke bangla, so bengalis fought back against it. we still celebrate that day today (feb 21)

so to have ramy be in this position in the 1830s where urdu was seen as superior to bangla, especially when ramy is a bengali muslim, is just extremely accurate?? and maybe it's bc we don't have much western literature where we talk about this but it's just so nice to have it acknowledged

the bangla language movement didn't happen until around the 1950s, over a century after babel's timeline, but the seeds are always there. while i do think it comes with both this islamic superiority tendency a lot of asians have (arabs i'm looking at you) and britian's imperialistic racism, i just love how it all makes sense

#babel rf kuang #ramiz rafi mirza #i'm still learning a lot abt my own culture so don't ask me for a lot of information about this lol #yk when i found out ramy was bengali it set my world off its course and i knew i had to read this book even if no bangla was discussed #i knew i was gonna get attached to him and I DID!#he just means so much to me and while he made me sob multiple times i love what kuang did with his character #also if youre pakistani lol don't try to defend yourself #you don't get to after pakistanis massacred so many bengalis during the bangladesh liberation war #babel an arcane history #babel or the necessity of violence #also i love seeing south asian characters become fandom favourites i know most babel lovers love ramy IKTRRR

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reasonsforhope · 7 months ago

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"Nasir Mansoor has spent 40 years fighting for Pakistan’s workers. Whether demanding compensation on behalf of the hundreds of people who died in a devastating 2012 factory fire in Karachi or demonstrating against Pakistani suppliers to global fashion brands violating minimum wage rules, he’s battled many of the country’s widespread labor injustices.

Yet so far, little has improved, said Mansoor, who heads Pakistan’s National Trade Union Federation in Karachi... Regulations and trade protocols look good on paper, but they rarely trickle down to the factory level. “Nobody cares,” Mansoor said. “Not the government who makes commitments, not the brands, and not the suppliers. The workers are suffering.”

Change on the Horizon

But change might finally be on the horizon after Germany’s new Supply Chain Act came into force last year. As Europe’s largest economy and importer of clothing, Germany now requires certain companies to put risk-management systems in place to prevent, minimize, and eliminate human rights violations for workers across their entire global value chains. Signed into law by German Chancellor Olaf Scholz in January 2023, the law covers issues such as forced labor, union-busting, and inadequate wages, for the first time giving legal power to protections that were previously based on voluntary commitments. Companies that violate the rules face fines of up to 8 million euros ($8.7 million)...

...As governments come to realize that a purely voluntary regimen produces limited results, there is now a growing global movement to ensure that companies are legally required to protect the people working at all stages of their supply chains.

The German law is just the latest example of these new due diligence rules—and it’s the one with the highest impact, given the size of the country’s market. A number of other Western countries have also adopted similar legislation in recent years, including France and Norway. A landmark European Union law that would mandate all member states to implement similar regulation is in the final stages of being greenlighted.

Although the United States has legislation to prevent forced labor in its global supply chains, such as the 2021 Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act, there are no federal laws that protect workers in other countries from abuses that fall short of forced labor. That said, a proposed New York state bill, the Fashion Act, would legally require most major U.S. and international brands to identify, prevent, and remediate human rights violations in their supply chain if passed, with noncompliance subject to fines. Since major fashion brands could hardly avoid selling their products in New York, the law would effectively put the United States on a similar legal level as Germany and France...

The Results So Far

As of January, Germany’s new law applies to any company with at least 1,000 employees in the country, which covers many of the world’s best-known fast fashion retailers, such as Zara and Primark. Since last January [Jan 2023], German authorities say they have received 71 complaints or notices of violations and conducted 650 of their own assessments, including evaluating companies’ risk management.

In Pakistan, the very existence of the German law was enough to spark action. Last year, Mansoor and other union representatives reached out to fashion brands that sourced some of their clothing in Pakistan to raise concerns about severe labor violations in garment factories. Just four months later, he and his colleagues found themselves in face-to-face meetings with several of those brands—a first in his 40-year career. “This is a big achievement,” he said. “Otherwise, [the brands] never sit with us. Even when the workers died in the factory fire, the brand never sat with us.” ...

-via The Fuller Project, April 2, 2024. Article headers added by me.

Article continues below, with more action-based results, including one factory that "complied, agreeing to respect minimum wages and provide contract letters, training on labor laws, and—for the first time—worker bonuses"

With the help of Mansoor and Zehra Khan, the general secretary of the Home-Based Women Workers Federation, interviews with more than 350 garment workers revealed the severity of long-known issues.

Nearly all workers interviewed were paid less than a living wage, which was 67,200 Pakistan rupees (roughly $243) per month in 2022, according to the Asia Floor Wage Alliance. Nearly 30 percent were even paid below the legal minimum wage of 25,000 Pakistani rupees per month (roughly $90) for unskilled workers. Almost 100 percent had not been given a written employment contract, while more than three-quarters were either not registered with the social security system—a legal requirement—or didn’t know if they were.

When Mansoor, Khan, and some of the organizations raised the violations with seven global fashion brands implicated, they were pleasantly surprised. One German retailer reacted swiftly, asking its supplier where the violations had occurred to sign a 14-point memorandum of understanding to address the issues. (We’re unable to name the companies involved because negotiations are ongoing.) The factory complied, agreeing to respect minimum wages and provide contract letters, training on labor laws, and—for the first time—worker bonuses.

In February [2024], the factory registered an additional 400 workers with the social security system (up from roughly 100) and will continue to enroll more, according to Khan. “That is a huge number for us,” she said.

It’s had a knock-on effect, too. Four of the German brand’s other Pakistani suppliers are also willing to sign the memorandum, Khan noted, which could impact another 2,000 workers or so. “The law is opening up space for [the unions] to negotiate, to be heard, and to be taken seriously,” said Miriam Saage-Maass, the legal director at ECCHR.

Looking Forward with the EU

...Last month [in March 2024], EU member states finally approved a due diligence directive after long delays, during which the original draft was watered down. As it moves to the next stage—a vote in the European Parliament—before taking effect, critics argue that the rules are now too diluted and cover too few companies to be truly effective. Still, the fact that the EU is acting at all has been described as an important moment, and unionists such as Mansoor and Khan wait thousands of miles away with bated breath for the final outcome.

Solidarity from Europe is important, Khan said, and could change the lives of Pakistan’s workers. “The eyes and the ears of the people are looking to [the brands],” Mansoor said. “And they are being made accountable for their mistakes.”"

-via The Fuller Project, April 2, 2024. Article headers added by me.

#pakistan #fashion #fashion industry #fast fashion #labor #labor unions #labor rights #unions #workers rights #capitalism #european union #germany #united states #new york #garment industry #garment manufacturing #supply chain #good news #hope

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burning-an-indifferent-hell · 12 days ago

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Carter was a war criminal who oversaw Operation Cyclone, funneling billions of dollars worth of resources and training into the CIA-backed Islamofascist mujahideen which destabilized Afghanistan and Pakistan, inevitably leading to the current climate of instability throughout MENA.

He backed brutal right-wing coups and death squads in Argentina and El Salvador, and authorized the horrific massacre of the Gwangju Uprising, in which 2,000 brave Koreans were slaughtered by the South Korean military for rising up against Chun's fascistic martial law. While Carter was peacefully laid to rest, their families are still looking for their loved one's body parts.

Carter was an agent of imperialism and the global rise of fascist movements, and played a role in setting many of our world's current issues into motion. His legacy is not deserving of this facade of moral excellence he's being posthumously granted.

#jimmy carter #marxism #politics #socialism #us imperialism

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thevoidstaredback · 3 months ago

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Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Danyal Fenton, Jan. 8th, 2014

I sincerely apologize for the lack of contact. Much has happened; too much to put into a single letter, though I’m sure you saw some of it on the news. It has been two years since your last letter. I wanted to respond earlier, but I was too much of a coward. I spent hours staring at your letters, but I couldn’t bring myself to open them, let alone respond. That is no excuse, however, and I apologize.

As I’ve already mentioned I’m sure you know, Father went missing shortly after my last letter to you. The public was told that he was kidnapped and that we would pay ransom. He returned about a year ago, as I’m also certain you heard, and we assured the public that the Private Investigators we hired had found and retrieved him and that the captors had been imprisoned. That is our cover story. I would like to tell you the truth of the matter in person, but it cannot wait for that day to come.

Father was lost in time. He has still not told us how or what happened when he was gone, other than that he lost his memory. Everytime he regained it, he would leave a clue for us before he forgot again and was taken to another time. He said he had help, but he didn’t say from whom.

Timothy was the one to follow the clues and rescue him, though I’m not sure how. Everyone thought Father was dead, but we refrained from announcing it until Timothy returned from his search.

No one knows that Batman was missing. Richard took up the cowl and I was given the title of Robin. (The colors are garish, but the others wore them, so I must as well.) Richard was quite good at stepping into Father’s place, well enough to fool Superman and the rest of the Justice League, but it was hard on him. The stress was too much for him at the time, though he is now back as Nightwing in Bludhaven.

As morbid as the thought may be, the entire year was good for distancing our civilian and vigilante lives. No one thinks Father is Batman because Batman was active while Father was missing. Nightwing was undercover while Richard was in Gotham, returning before Richard left to go back to his city. Timothy was sighted in Pakistan with no appearance from Red Robin until after Timothy had “left”.

On the topic of Timothy, he is on Grandfather’s radar. He confided that, in the process of looking for Father, he enlisted the help of the Council of Spiders. Grandfather trained him, offering up the position of Demons Heir to him. In his escape, Timothy blew up eight bases around the world, though I don’t know how he managed.

On the topic; I have renounced my position of Demons Heir. Father and our siblings have taught me many things since I first arrived, things which made me rethink what we grew up knowing. I’m sure you went through the same thing. Mother has tried fruitlessly to take me back with her, but I have gone back to Father every time. I wanted to go back to you, but I am not willing to put you at risk like that. However, the Shadows have separated into factions, one side with Grandfather and the other with Mother. Nanda Parbat now stands as Grandfather’s primary base of operations.

The WAR - We Are Robin - Movement that swept over Gotham in Father’s absence was headed by our new foster brother Duke Thomas. He now goes by the name Signal. I was the one to recruit him and give him the bat he now wears.

Having gone back to re-read your letters, and read for the first time your last three letters, I have noticed that you refer to Father’s chosen as my siblings alone. Do you not want them to be your siblings as well? I do not blame or criticize; I am simply curious and would like some clarity. والآن حان دوري لأطلب عفوك. لن أدع الاتصالات البعيدة المدى تفلت من يدي مرة أخرى.

Damian Wayne

***

After two years of radio silence, Danny finally got a letter from his brother. He was glad, don’t get him wrong! But he found himself not nearly as excited as he would’ve been last year. After two years of constantly waiting and checking and not being able to do anything, Danny was so burnt out that when the letter finally did come, he didn’t immediately rush to open and read it. He did, of course, open and read it, but he also waited to write up a response. Like Damian, he now had a lot on his plate, except he actually barely had any time to himself anymore.

Between ghost fights, playing keep-away with his parents and the GIW, teaching his friends how to handle themselves in a fight, saving the world, and trying desperately to get through the media block to reach the Justice League, Danny was pulled so thin that he was surprised he hadn’t ripped apart from the stress of it all! That’s not to even mention his own training in the Infinite Realms!

Yes, he had his team, but they could only do so much. And it didn’t help that Vlad the Frootloop who is secretly a vampire keeps getting in his way and causing shit! He did get a dog now, though! Cujo is the best dog.

That’s all to say that he’s beyond tired.

“Whoever came up with the saying “Sleep when you’re dead” is a fucking liar!” he exclaimed, flopping face-first onto Sam’s bed.

She snorted. “Don’t be dramatic, Danny.”

“No, no, he’s got a point,” Tucker said, “Danny’s been getting less sleep since he died!”

Danny groaned again. Sam rolled him over so that he could breathe as he detransformed. “Any luck with getting through the Media Block?”

It was Tucker’s turn to groan. He leaned back so far that he fell onto the floor, but he didn’t care. “No! I don’t know how they’re doing it, but outside news can come in, but nothing’s able to go out.”

That particular issue has gotten a lot of people up in arms. Just after the Ghost Portal was opened, the US Government sent a privately funded branch - the Ghost Investigation Ward, GIW for short and Guys In White for shits and giggles - to contain it. Instead of containing or shutting down the portal, they decided to put the entire down on a soft lock-in, meaning that anything can come in but almost nothing can go out.

The G.I.W. is a branch of the Bureau of Normalcy. Bureau of Normalcy is an organization dedicated to the weaponization or eradication of entities they deem to be odd. Basically government funded war crimes. So no different than what the government normally does, just with a different name. The G.I.W. are the offshoot that specializes in dealing with ghosts.

Getting rid of the G.I.W. is basically number two on the priority list. Once they’re gone, the Media Block will go with them, so will most of the property damage and about a third of Danny’s stress. Sabotaging his parents’ tech so that it’s safer for all parties comes in at a very close second, with making sure the living and dead don’t destroy each other.

“On a slightly different topic,” Sam said, “How have the protections on the Portal been coming along?”

Another project Danny’s been working on in what little spare time he has. Since getting his powers, he’s joined Sam in reading up on different kinds of magic, going so far as to start looking into the greater occult community. That’s when he came up with the idea of putting protection runes around and on the Ghost Portal. Unfortunately, the runes have to be both a specific type and insanely supercharged in order to work on or near the portal. He hasn’t managed to find the right runes and nothing has been helpful. Another reason to reach out to the Justice League, actually.

Originally, he’d wanted to ask the Justice League for advice and maybe for help from any actual magic users they know. He was perfectly fine, brushing off what he’d been born learning and using those skills, but he was born to kill, not save, so advice from actual heroes would’ve been nice. Unfortunately, the G.I.W. says that he can’t have nice things, so he doesn’t.

Leaving the town was an option that everyone had, but no one was willing to uproot their entire lives because the government got a little bit pissy and don’t know how to listen to their people.

“Not good,” he told her, “The runes keep blowing up in my face.”

“Have you asked any of the ghosts?” Tucker hadn’t bothered to get off of the floor, but he was still working at getting through the Media Block.

Danny shook his head. “None of them are helpful. They won’t listen to me unless we’re fighting and, I don’t know if you know this, but asking about magic runes isn’t really the thing I’m thinking about while trying to save people.”

Sam rubbed her forehead, her eyes closed. “Alright, I’ll look through my grandma’s books again to see if we can find something.” She sighed. “This would be so much easier if we could actually contact someone.”

“I’m working on it!” Tucker snapped, “These guys have something that keeps changing the code on me and it’s near impossible to work through! The second I put even a crack in their firewalls, it fills itself up! How the hell am I supposed to get around a living firewall?”

“Sorry, Tuck,” Sam said, “I know you’ve been working your ass off on that.”

He laughed humorlessly, “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”

The three delved into silence, working on their own projects. Tucker was doing his best against the Media Block, Sam was looking everywhere for protection runes strong enough to work on the Portal, and Danny was adding entries to his Catalogue Des Fantômes.

He was on page nineteen of the notebook, the last entry having been Youngblood. There was only one entry that wasn’t actually a ghost, though, but Danny always skilled over that page when he could. Freakshow, theRingmaster of Circus Gothica scared the ever loving shit out of Danny. He hated not being in control of himself. He hated the memory lapses when he was under someone else's influence. He hated that he hurt his friends.

The page he was working on was for the blob ghosts. They were low-threats and adorable. They also made wonderful informants, being able to fly far and fast and listen and relay without being caught. The only problem was that he was pretty sure only other ghosts could see and understand the little blobs.

“It’s been really quiet recently, don’t you think?” Tucker said after about an hour of quietly doing their own thing.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“It’s just been…quiet,” he explained, “Not a lot has been happening. Like, at first, there were attacks every day, but it’s Sunday and Youngblood was the only ghost to attack.”

Danny sat up, coming to the same realization as Tucker. “Oh, no,” he said, catching the other twos’ attention.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You spoke it into existence.”

“Huh?”

“You said it’s been quiet; Now something’s gonna-!” He was cut off by a rumble that shook the mansion. Swearing, Danny transformed into Phantom and flew out of the window. He didn’t get very far before noticing what was wrong. Sam and Tucker both joined him at the window.

“Holy shit.” Sam muttered.

Tucker nodded. “What the hell?”

The sky, previously a clear blue, was now swirls of toxic green and black. Everything was dimmer, despite the amount of lights in the town. The clouds were all gone, replaced with nothing that was so glaringly obvious that the trio found themselves feeling agoraphobic. The biggest change, though, was that they were now on an island. Where there had been fields stretching on forever just a few minutes ago, there was now a drop into a fading green to black void. Also, everything was tinted purple.

Phantom was quick to regain himself. He flew back to his house because this wasn’t right. Why was Amity Park in the Infinite Realms? How was Amity Park in the Infinite Realms? Both questions he needed answers to yesterday.

As he passed, he saw people freaking out, running around like chickens with their heads cut off to find someone who might have an answer.

Red Huntress was out and about, so he flew to her as fast as he could. “Get everyone to calm down!” he shouted over the noise of everyone screaming below them.

She glared at him. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

Now, he and Red have never quite gotten along. Sure, they’ve worked together, but him knowing her and her not knowing him was really the only thing stopping them from getting along perfectly. At least she’d stopped trying to turn him into the G.I.W.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “But I’m gonna find out. As soon as I do, I’ll tell you!” She nodded and was off to work damage control.

It took another few minutes before Phantom was at his house. Using both invisibility and intangibility, he flew down into the lab, vacant of any occupants, and went straight to the Portal. The Portal that was now an empty shell of bad memories. There was no power running through it.

“What..?” He turned on a dime, Plasmius now directly behind him. “What did you do?”

The older ghost clicked his tongue and shook his head. “What makes you think I did this? You have such a low opinion of me?”

“Yes.”

“Shame.”

“Am I wrong?” The silence spoke for itself. “What the hell did you do, Vlad.”

“Now, now, Daniel, no need to be so hostile.”

“Really? ‘Cause we’re no longer on Earth, dipshit.”

“Language, Daniel.”

“My name is ‘Danyal’, asshole.”

“That’s what I said,” he smirked, “Daniel.”

He stopped himself from starting a physical altercation and took a deep breath. “Just tell me what happened so that I can go clean up after you again.”

“I did not cause-”

“Just shut the fuck up and tell me what happened!”

“Well, that’s quite the contradiction or requests-”

Danny threw his hands in the air and left Plasmius in the lab. He didn’t have time for Vlad’s pathetic attempt at mind games! He had shit to figure out and people to help calm down.

“Walking away in the middle of a conversation?” Plasmius caught up easily, “How rude. Where did you learn your manners?”

“Maybe if you’d actually be helpful for once in your goddamn existence, then I’d be more inclined to stay and chat for a moment. As it stands, though, you’re doing a shit job of being mayor. Your people are freaking the fuck out and you’re here antagonizing me. Now, if you really wanna have a conversation, you can tell me what you did.”

Plasmius was quiet for a moment. Then, he admitted, “The King.”

Phantom blinked. “That what?”

“The King.”

“You don’t mean the King-King, right? The one that all the blob ghosts weaned me about? The one I’m sure you were also warned about? That King?” He asked, “Because I can hear the capitalization in your voice, Plasmius, and if you woke up the one guy that could actually destroy the world, then I’m gonna beat your ass and feed your head to a duck.”

The older man had the audacity to look sheepish. “I took his ring. He didn’t like that, so he woke up.”

Phantom groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Taking an unnecessary and deep breath, he said, “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go down there and explain exactly what the hell you did. I don’t care if you blame yourself as Vlad or if you blame yourself as Plausmius, but they need to know. You also need to do your damn job and calm them the fuck down. I am going to figure out how to fix this because you will only get in my way.” He flew away.

Gods, Danny doesn’t get paid nearly enough for this.

For the first time since he’d died, Danny was scared for his life. He was all alone, stepping up to fight the King of Ghosts; A powerful deity who rules over the Realms of the dead and the living and everything in-between. He’s got the power to pull an entire city into the Realm Between. He could probably destroy the Living Realms if he so chose to!

And Danny was challenging him to a fight. With no back up. And no hope for medical because he didn’t tell anyone he was going to be fighting the King. If he makes it out of this no more dead than he already was, he’s going to sleep for a week. Everyone else can just stop bothering him.

He stepped up to the steps of Pariah’s Keep. The building was huge, red, glowing, and beyond imposing. It looked like every horrible aspect of every castle was shoved into one and painted to look like it was coated in the blood of the Living.

He’s never been nervous for a fight before.

Danny steeled himself, shoving his fear into the deepest recesses of his mind, and started up the stairs. He could feel eyes on him, but he didn’t know where they were from. He ignored them, letting his transformation wash over him as he walked. All the ghosts knew who he was anyway, so he didn’t feel the need to hide his transformation from them.

He stepped into the great hall, a black and red throne standing proudly on a raised dais at the end of the room. The reflective obsidian floor looked like a void of nothing, the light from the torches on the walls seemed to be absorbed into the void.

Pariah Dark, King of Ghosts, stood tall at the bottom of the dais. His skin was white, his hair and eyes toxic green, his armor black and gray, his cape black and red. The belt and sash he wore both had skulls on them, and he had a longsword on his hip that had a matching skill pommel.

“You are foolish to come here alone.” The King looked down his nose at him. His voice boomed through the room, but he didn’t raise it.

Phantom had adjusted his own outfit, making it look more like what the older assassins wore in Nanda Parbat. He had several knives hidden around his person, his katana on his left hip, a rapier on his right hip, and a tanto on his back.

“I am more concerned for the safety of my home than the safety of myself. Bringing anyone with me would’ve put them at risk.”

The King sneered. “You are foolish, child. Connections such as those will only drag you down. Cut them, and you will only grow stronger.”

“Y’know, my Grandfather used to tell me something similar when I was a child.”

“Your Grandfather was a wise man.”

“High praise coming from you, you’re majesty. You wouldn’t happen to know who he is, do you?”

“You smell of the Pits; Lifeblood of the Between Realm that has found its way into the Living Realms. You do not have the anger to have been submerged, but you have been around them.” The King stated, “Tell me, where were you born, K̴͔̑͘u̸̙͌̋͠m̴̬̯̤̄͗̊̚m̷̹̜̟̣̈ḯ̴͚͕̙̗̥̀t̸͚̠̭̣͎̒̄u̷̺̹̫̅͑ṡ̷̞͆l̶̝̈́̌̅a̶̹̪̎̇̈̈̓p̸͎̬͖̺͊̾̽͜š̶̞̤̞͐͗͝?”

Despite knowing that that was not a language he had learned, he knew what was said. “L̵̤̞͎̓ử̷͈͉̫̆͊͠m̵̡͓̣͂͋e̵̩̹̼̠̬͆͑ ̴͈̦͒͒ő̸͓̀̂͘r̵̞̰̠̟̓̓ǧ̵̛͈̜̪͋,” he answered, “V̴̯͓̀a̸̼̩̐̉r̷̪͂j̸̛͕̼̈́͌u̶͔̐͌d̴͓͍̀̍͝e̵̤̐ ̵͉̖̅̃ͅǫ̸̹̩̅͌r̸̢̙̕͜ġ̷̦͝, The living call it Nanda Parbat.”

“A̶̧̞̯̓ḷ̶̡͕̰̫̏a̴̛̤̲͔̅̄́͝s̸̝̔͑t̴̫̏̉͋i̶̢̼͈̪̎̂́̕ ̷̼͉̐͌͊̑̾m̶̯̹͔̺͂̀͜ḁ̷͍̟͇̞̈̀̒͆͝͠g̵͈͚̹̽ĭ̶̪̰̿̒,” King Pariah repeated, “I am familiar with that place. You say you were born there?”

“Correct.”

“Do you fight to protect, or do you fight to rule?”

“I fight to protect.”

“Alright, T̶̨͇͋͌͆͌́ä̸͇̰͓̿h̷̥̓͌͋̈̔̓t̴̗̻͚͈͚̺̓́̔e̴̢̯̱̓̄̎̾̆ḑ̷̬̔ḛ̷̱̭̙̪͑̃͌̓͐ ̵̭̯͔̈̈̇̓̕̕l̶̜̞̺̜̦̋̿̄͒͊a̶̢̼͈͆p̶͓̟̱̣̉š̶̹͋̄̕͝,” he drew his sword, Danny did the same. “I will display your banner amongst your kin.” The fight began.

Phantom and Pariah crossed blades in the middle of the room. The King had both hands on the hilt of his, pushing his weight into where the metal clashed. Phantom was wielding his katana, his left hand open and prepared to either go for a dagger or join his right hand on the katana. After a few moments of struggle, the two pushed away, evenly matched for strength.

Again, Pariah made the first move, lunging at Phantom with a burst of flight to speed him up. They crossed blades, but didn’t hold as the large ghost spun around to strike at Phantom from behind. Phantom met his blade with the dagger that fell from his sleeve into his hand. The nerve damage transferred between forms, making the grip on the dagger slip. He slid Pariah’s blade away to cover the fault, though he was nicked in the arm. He didn’t feel it.

As he slid the sword, Phantom’s katana reached to hit Pariah. The blade grazed off the armor, ringing with the force. Phantom was forced to dodge away to save the blade. He was quick to stash it, bushing the dagger back up his sleeve and pulling the rapier from its place on his hip.

Pariah feinted around Phantom’s jab, getting close stabbing at his thigh. He managed a graze before having to pull back in a dodge. Phantom’s rapier caught Pariah's cape, tearing through it and pulling it off of his shoulders. Growling, he pulled the rest of the fabric off, discarding it quickly.

The two stood apart from each other. The floor remained spotless and the torches undisturbed. The two halves of the cape laid at the feet of the two.

“You duel well,” The King commended.

Phantom nodded in thanks. “I do not have nearly your experience, however I was born with a weapon in my hand.”

Again, they met blades in the middle, green sparks flying off at the initial contact. Phantom was quick to slip another dagger into his hand, pushing his enemy’s blade up so he could get in close. As soon as he did, he shoved the dagger into the gap between the ghost’s chest plate and twisted.

Pariah cried out and threw Phandom away from him, the younger ghost hitting the wall before landing on the floor in a crouch. He pulled the dagger from his gut, the thing only inhibiting his movement. Like Phantom, he did not heal.

Switching his weapon again, Phantom lunged forward first with matching daggers in his hands. Pariah kept both blades away with his own, nimbly moving away when he could afford to and kicking when he could not. Finally, he knocked both dagger’s from Phantom’s hands and stabbed through the ghost child’s left hand.

The phantom pain from nerves that no longer worked caused Phantom to scream. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the blade with his other hand, cutting it, and wrapped his legs around Pariah’s arm. The older ghost grunted, lifting his sword and Phantom together. He raised him above his head before slamming him back down into the floor. Again, Phantom screamed, but he began to pull the longsword from The King’s hand.

Raising his arm and slamming Phantom back into the ground over and over again, Pariah didn’t notice his grip on his blade was loosening until Phantom had pulled it from him entirely. In a show of strength, the sword was thrown to the other side of the throne room. It stabbed into the wall, the edge chipping and rolling in several different places.

“You brat!” The King roared. Phantom let go of his arm, flipping away and landing in a crouch near the wall. Pariah gave chase, throwing punches when he got close. Soon, the battle was taken to the air, both parties flying.

Pariah Dark fought like a brawler, all heavy hits and weighted punches. He liked to stay firmly in place when he hit, being too big to outrun his opponent.

Phantom, on the other hand, fought like a snake, relying on speed and flexibility. He used the daggers hidden on his person to wear his opponent down. He was always on the move, depending heavily on outlasting whoever he was fighting.

The King grabbed the ghost child by his neck, squeezing hard enough that Phantom heard a creak, pain radiating from where his bones would be. “You have lost.”

Phantom smirked, “Not quite,” he said. He kicked up, knocking Pariah in the chin, and punched his elbow, flying out of range when the grip on his neck loosened. He gasped for air on habit, green blood leaking from his mouth.

Pariah stood at his full height. “Why do you fight, Ț̷̿̇̾͘a̴̘̪̘̥͖͈͆s̵͙̎̃̍̋͊͜á̴̟̲̰̲̃̓̎͘͠k̵̡̰̖̝̳̑̄a̸̹̹̮͊͆͛̆̈́̕a̶̙̝̭͔̘̪̿̓̃̍̊̾͜͝l̸̨̞͎̫̮̅u̸͓̒́́͆͋̇͠ ̶̛̺̰̦͔̞͖̯͇͑͆̔͝l̶̨̛̖̝̫̭̱̿̃̊̿̉͘̕å̴̢̯͍p̶̡̢̬̩̣̃̏̓̾͋̈̔s̷̱͎̄̅ͅ?”

“To protect,” Phantom glared, “T̵̳̪̂̌̎y̵̛̭̻̖̽r̴̹̰̗͝ḁ̸͚̟̈̆n̴͔̞͊̈͑ṅ̷̝̂-̷̼͙̼̏̃k̴̛̙̣̠͑û̶̘͍̞ň̷͈͇̲ỉ̶̛̗̺͜͝n̸͐̈́͜͠g̴̼̀ä̸̞͙̲́s̶͎̬͙̀͒.”

The King laughed, the sound wet as green blood fell from his mouth and cuts, his chestplate being stained by the stuff. “You will End if you keep that foolish mindset.”

Phantom smirked. “Maybe,”

Pariah’s eyes closed, his entire being losing its glow. Slowly, he disappeared, leaving behind a small ball of fire. Over the orb was his crown, the green fire fading from the black metal. A small black ring joined them on the floor.

He waited for several minutes, staring at the small orb, the ring, and the crown. Then, he fell to his knees with a smile. “I…I did it.” His smile grew to a grin. “I did it!”

Translation 1 - French: Ghost Catalog

Translation 2 - Estonian & Zalgo: Ghost Child

Translation 3 - Estonian & Zalgo: Valley of Snow … Valley of Shadows

Translation 4 - Estonian & Zalgo: Naked Mountain

Translation 6 - Estonian & Zalgo: Child of the Stars

Translation 7 - Estonian & Zalgo: Child of Balance

Translation 8 - Estonian & Zalgo: Tyrant King

Part 8 Part 10

#Tales of Conquest. Warnings of Fools #Letters Between Brothers #part 9 #word count: 4.3k #my writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfic #dc x dp #ghouls and gang writing event 2024 #dpxdcbang2024 #g&g24

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