#well me and my ghosts we had a hell of a time!

[thestoryden]

Aemond Drabble Enjoy!

Your throw open the silk curtains with your laundry basket on your waist. A man sat on the bed still in a cloak and trousers. Boots and a sword at his side.

“I’m so sorry mi lord. I thought that this room was clear, I was told to clean it.” You stumble over your words.

He sighs, “It is I am just getting dressed.”

“I am sorry, I shall leave you.” You apologize.

“Wait.” He commands.

He turns towards you. Revealing a blue rock that glints where and eye should be and a river of silvery hair flows forth from his hood. You drop your basket to the floor.

“My prince, I had no idea, please spare me.” You hang your head.

“It is of no consequence.” He says as he slips in to his boots, “as long as you come with me.”

“Please mi prince, I am not a whore,” you panic, “I am just a serving girl.”

“I wish for company for the night,” He says, “I will buy your contract if that what is what it takes.”

You brush your dark curls out of your face as you look up, “You would buy my contract, and then what?”

“Then after tonight you wouldn’t have to see me ever again.” He replies.

“What is the catch?” You inquire.

“You must catch my brother’s eye and refuse him. Then come to me, you must make a show of it.” He smirks.

“The King then, you want me to draw myself into his sight, are you mad?”

“I am your prince watch your voice,” he warns, “You could be free for one simple job.”

You pick up your basket and have Aemond point you in the direction of his brother. You waltz over putting on the airs of the girls who work with their bodies. He is exiting the silk curtains just as you go to open them. You bump in to him and fall to the floor. You look up a convincing look of shock covering your face. You put your hand to your mouth.

“Your Grace!” You exclaim, “My apologies, I was not watching where I was walking.”

Aegon laughs, “What do we have here, a mouse in the dragon’s nest.”

Your face goes ghost white. When you thought about this in your head it seemed easy, but now, now your head was swimming with the fear of having your flesh feasted upon. You get to your feet.

“I think I will have you little mouse.” He smirks.

“My time cannot be bought twice, your grace.” You state with a shiver.

“Well, I am sure whoever it was won’t mind giving me tribute.” Aegon scoffs lightly.

You walk towards Aemond where he stands at the front counter. Your sealed contract in his hand.

“Brother,” Aegon greets him with ease.

Aemond’s blood boils after the humiliation he suffered.

“This is the man who owns my time tonight,” you say stiffly.

 “Aemond, I am sure you can bed this woman another night.” Aegon states.

“I surely can as I am the lawful owner of her contract, but you can not as she now belongs to me.” Aemond replies with a sly grin.

“That is all well and good, but I am the king. She is who I desire for this part of the evening.” He challenges.

“Does she even desire you?” Aemond laughs.

“Surely, I am the king, who would not?” Aegon says as he looks to you.

“I only desire the man who owns my time.” Your reply with a smile, “It must be willing sold for my desire to change.”

Aegon frowns, “as if in seven hells I care, you can have her Aemond. She looks boring and plain anyway.”

He turns and walks away. You finally feel the air rush in to your lungs.

You look to Aemond, “Can we get out of here before he changes his mind?”

Aemond nods and stuffs your contract into his purse and grabs your arm to lead you out. You weave through streets and alleys, before long you realize that the streets of silk are far behind you.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask.

He paused as if he hadn’t thought it out before, “I guess to the keep?”

“The castle?” You gasp, “Why we could have just rented a room?”

“I have spent enough gold tonight, and wish to be home.” Aemond whispers.

When you reach the castle your heart sinks. Huge red stone walls that surround it make it look more like a prison than anything. The prince tugs you into a side entrance and soon you find yourself lacing though corridors till you step into a lavish room. It was bigger than any house you had ever served.

Aemond removes his cloak, “larger than your room I venture?”

“I live in a stable.” The words fall out of your mouth.

Heat creeps up your face as you realize what you have just said.

Aemond grimaces, “When was the last time you had a bath?”

“Maybe two weeks ago? The girls who sell they get irritated by the smell every once and a while and scrub us down.” You look down at your shoes, “I can’t really afford it, all the money goes towards the contract.”

His face softens, “Let me care for you.”

“I couldn’t my prince.” Your protest.

“I own your contract, consider it an order.” Aemond replies smugly.

[ltash]

A ride to Hell

Simon Ghost Riley x female reader

Warning: 18+, extreme slow burn, romance and erotica.

"Lord have mercy on me because you are going to be my first and most beautiful sin."

We fall in love with unrequited things. Like maybe the universe will love us back, but he has too many other galaxies burning in his hands."

▪︎○•Nitya Prakash•○▪︎

The night was dark, a blanket of stars stretching across the desert sky, as the soft glow of a single lamp lit the small lodge where you sat hunched over a laptop. Your fingers danced across the keyboard, the quiet click of the keys the only sound in the room, save for the occasional rustle of paper as you consulted your notes. Ghost stood by the window, his imposing figure almost blending into the shadows, watching you silently.

Born in Qatar, your distinct Arabian accent often marked you as different, an outsider, but within the confines of this taskforce, you were indispensable. The others rarely saw you, your time spent mostly confined to your office, your eyes perpetually glued to a computer screen. You knew them all, though. Every face, every quirk, every nuance of their characters.

Your uniform head covering was as much a part of you as your laptop, both offering a shield from the outside world. Your existence at the base was a series of short excursions to get food or return to your quarters, until Laswell sent you on this mission with the infamous Lieutenant Ghost.

The break-in at the mill had been harrowing. You’d slipped through shadows and bypassed security systems to get pictures of the ballistic missiles and the codes written on them. Now, you were burning the midnight oil, trying to crack those codes. The fate of countless lives hinged on your success.

Ghost's presence was a constant reminder of the stakes. He was a legend, a phantom of death and destruction, and now he was here, watching you with those cold, calculating eyes. You could feel the weight of his gaze, even if he never uttered a word.

As the hours dragged on, the code began to unravel, piece by piece. Your mind was a whirlwind of algorithms and encryption, the world outside fading into insignificance. Every now and then, you'd glance at the photos you’d taken, the missile codes stark and foreboding in the dim light.

"Almost there," you muttered, more to yourself than to Ghost.

He didn't respond, just shifted slightly, his presence a looming sentinel. There was a comfort in that silence, a strange camaraderie that had developed between you two. You were the mind, and he the muscle, two halves of a lethal whole.

The final sequence of numbers clicked into place, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The code was cracked. The missiles were disarmed, their threat neutralized.

You leaned back, your body suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the past hours. Ghost moved from his position, stepping into the light. His masked face gave away nothing, but you sensed his approval, his silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

The glow of the laptop screen cast a soft light on your face, your long fingers tapping away at the keys as you worked to crack the code of the ballistic missiles. You wore an exquisite black gown with a Gucci belt and Louboutin heels, an elegant hijab adorning your head. You were short, about five foot, and very petite. Your pretty little face, with doe eyes filled with kohl, glanced up at Ghost.

It was your first mission with him. Your porcelain-skinned hand paused, and you looked outside the window, the night sky a canvas of stars.

"When I am tired of gazing at the computer screen, I look outside, and it soothes my weary eyes," you said, touching the window with your long fingers and pink nails.

Ghost stood silently, his presence a steady anchor in the room. You returned to your laptop, your mind sharp despite the fatigue. The final sequence of numbers clicked into place.

"Done!" you exclaimed, swiftly sending an email to Laswell. You leaned back, exhaling deeply, the weight of the mission lifting off your shoulders.

"Isn't it beautiful outside?" you repeated softly, your eyes lingering on the serene night, finding a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

Ghost observed you, silently noting how intently you seemed to gaze at the scenery outside. He could sense exhaustion slowly seeping into your weary form, your eyes weary from hours of staring at the computer screen.

After a brief moment of contemplation, he broke the silence. "You look exhausted. Take a break, rest your eyes for a while." He suggested, his voice surprisingly kind and gentle.

You paused, feeling the exhaustion wash over you but mustering a small smile. "I am fine, but shukran, habibi!" you said, your voice soft and grateful.

Ghost chuckled softly, his amusement evident in his laugh. You were stubborn, he had to give you that. But he was persistent as well.

"Stubborn, aren't you? I suggest you take a break not just for your eyes but for your own well-being. It's important to rest." He insisted, not taking no for an answer.

You looked at him, tall, dark, and undeniably handsome. He was wearing his white camouflage uniform, standing at 6'4"—a full 1.5 feet taller than you. Despite the skull mask, he was undeniably sexy. His presence commanded the room, a silent but powerful figure.

Your eyes traced his form, taking in the strength and confidence that radiated from him. The mask added an air of mystery, but you could sense the intensity and determination behind it.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to be captivated by him, the weariness of the mission slipping away as you admired the striking contrast between your petite frame and his towering, formidable figure.

Ghost leans against the wall. His gaze traces over your petite figure, admiring the black gown hugging your slender physique. It's a far cry from the rugged military gear he normally associates you with.

"Never seen you in anything other than combat getup," he remarks, his British accent thick as he crosses the room, pausing beside you.

A shiver ran down your spine at his close proximity. You never knew you would be stuck here with him on your first mission. His presence was overwhelming, a mixture of intimidation and allure that made your heart race.

The close proximity between the two of you seemed to intensify the tension, causing a visible shiver to course through your body.

Ghost noticed the subtle cue and mentally acknowledged the effect he seemed to have on you.

His eyes narrow, his keen intuition picking up on the subtle retreat. He respects your personal space and stops, his back leans against the wall as he studies your reserved demeanor.

"Relax. I won't bite," he says, his tone cool and steady. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth beneath his dishevelled blond hair.

"It means you do." You said.

He cocks an eyebrow and pushes himself off the wall, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. He stands a respectful but intimate proximity, his gaze locking with your doe eyes.

"Careful," he drawls, his voice low and playful. "Don't tempt me. I just might take a nibble."

He could sense your nervousness, the fact that you were on your first mission and paired up with him, of all people. He made a mental note of it before speaking.

"First mission, yeah?"

"Yeah," you murmured, almost to yourself. "A hacker who stayed in her trench, sent by Laswell on her first mission with you."

Ghost chuckled lightly at your description, his amusement evident in his eyes.

"A hacker, huh? That explains the impressive skills with the computer." He remarked, his gaze drifting to the laptop briefly before returning to you.

"And here I was, expecting a seasoned soldier."

You turned around, looking outside, your gown swaying with the movement. The click of your heels echoed on the wooden floor, a sharp contrast to the silence that filled the room. The night was calm, the stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be lost in the beauty of the night, finding solace in the tranquility outside.

He watched as you turned around, the movement of your gown and the distinct clicking of  your heels against the wooden floor catching his attention.

There was a fluid grace in your movements that he couldn't help but observe, the way the gown accentuated your figure and the rhythm of your steps against the floor creating a mesmerizing harmony.

As you stood by the window, Ghost silently approached from behind, closing the small distance between you.

His breaths were steady and calm, a stark contrast to the rapid beating of your heart that you were sure he could hear. The rain pattered outside, the soft rhythm of the droplets hitting the windows, filling the room with a tranquil yet poignant atmosphere.

You recoiled and stumbled back, your back hit the window behind you.

His smirk widens into a half-smile, amusement flashing in his eyes. He catches the flicker of surprise in your reaction, relishing the opportunity to push your buttons.

With another step forward, he closes the gap again, this time bringing himself dangerously close. He leans against the window, boxing you in with his arms.

"You're like a trapped little bird," he murmurs, his gaze roaming over your petite form.

You barely reached his chest as he closed the distance. "You gave me a heart attack." You gazed him in anger.

He chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. He noticed your gasp and the way you recoiled, your face now mere inches away from his chest.

He watched as you clutched your chest, your breaths quickening from the shock. Amusement glimmered in his eyes as he looked down at you. "Apologies for the heart attack," He said, his voice a low, rough murmur.

As your eyes trailed up, locking with his from this new perspective, a sense of curiosity danced in your gaze. Words remained unspoken, yet the questions lingered in your eyes, hung in the air like an unanswered inquiry.

He met your gaze, his gaze unwavering and intense beneath the skull balaclava. He seemed to be silently studying your expression, as if he could decipher the unasked questions without you having to speak a word.

He towered over you, reveling in the stark difference in their statures. His muscled physique seemed to envelop you as he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

He reached out, a calloused finger tracing the delicate line of your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"So small, so fragile," he purrs, his eyes darkened with an intense mix of admiration and desire.

A hiss escaped your lips.

"Feisty, huh?" His half-smile turns into a full smirk as your hiss escapes you.

With a fluid motion, he presses even closer, his body nearly flush against yours, pinning you against the window. One of his hands rests casually on your hip, his grip firm yet mindful, as if holding a fragile treasure.

"Oh God!" You whimpered squeezing your eyes shut.

As your eyes squeeze shut, his smirk deepens. He can practically feel the tension radiating off you, each of your reactions only heightening his craving.

His hand on your hip tightens ever so slightly, applying a gentle pressure, silently encouraging you to open your eyes and meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he orders, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of a velvet caress.

His gaze roams over your flustered face, taking in your panting breaths and the exquisite redness of your cheeks—like ripe, blushing tomatoes.

A low rumble of a laugh escapes him, appreciating your attempt to avoid eye contact. With a single finger, he gently but firmly tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Eyes on me, darling. I want to see every beautiful shade of embarrassment on that porcelain face of yours."

You tried brushing him off and looking away.

His smirk turns into a half-frown at your attempt to brush him off. His eyes darken, a flash of possessive annoyance passing through them.

"No, no," he tuts, gently yet insistently turning your face back towards him. He uses his body to block your escape, his strong frame pressing against yours, keeping you trapped.

"Eyes on me," he repeats, his voice a low command. "I'm not finished admiring you just yet."

You tried slipping past him.

His reflexes kick in the moment he senses you attempting to slip away from him. With a swift, fluid motion, he lunges forward and grabs your wrist, his fingers encircling it like a vice.

He pulls you back against his chest, an arm wrapping tightly around your waist, preventing any further movement.

"Where do you think you're going?" he purrs, his lips hovering close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Oh God! Please lemme go." You pleaded and whimpered.

His smirk widened as your whimper escapes you, the sound like music to his ears. His grip on your wrist and waist tightened reflexively, pulling you even closer against his solid frame.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a velvety whisper in your ear, "I love the way you sound."

His free hand began to roam, slowly and deliberately, tracing along the curves of your body.

The sudden thunder caught you off guard, a shrill squeak slipping past your lips as you instinctively sought shelter. In a reflexive motion, you clung onto his uniform, your small hands grasping at his chest.

Ghost let out a soft grunt as he felt the unexpected weight of your body against him. He could feel the warmth of your slender frame press against him, the sound of your heartbeat accelerating in response to the thunder.

He watched as you abruptly recoiled, the realization of your actions now sinking in. He observed the way your heart continued to race, the rapid rise and fall of your chest only accentuating your flustered state.

As you looked up at him, your doe eyes widened and your quivering lips parted. He couldn't tear his gaze away as your scarf slowly slipped out of place, showing your long, silky black hair, cascading like a waterfall down your body.

The sight of your flowing black hair spilling down your body, partially covering your delicate frame, send a flicker of desire through Ghost. His breath caught in his throat, and his grip on you involuntarily tightened.

A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest. He reached out, his fingers tangled in your silky locks, gently tugging them to expose more of your neck and face.

"God damn it," he muttered, the words a mix of admiration and barely contained desire. "You're so damn beautiful like that."

Your hair, now freed from the binds of your hijab, had an oddly captivating effect on Ghost. He watched as you seemed to lose all strength in your knees, your body weak and vulnerable.

He quickly reacted, his strong, gloved hands reaching out to support you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you closer, steadying you against his chest.

He felt a pang of concern as he witnessed the tears pooling in your eyes, the way the melted kohl streamed down your cheeks in a heartbreaking display. Your pink lips trembled, quivering as if holding back a wave of emotions.

With his arm still firmly around your waist, he pulled you impossibly closer, his chest now mere inches away from your face. His grip tightened instinctively, as if trying to hold your shattered pieces together.

Whimpers escaping your lips on his every tug.

He felt a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he lifted you closer, your shoes now standing on his boots, your toes barely touching the ground. You were practically on your tiptoes, your strength seemingly sapped from your body, leaving you entirely dependent on him for support.

As he noticed your swooning reaction, he pulled his mask off, revealing the sharp, handsome features beneath. His dark, intense gaze fixated on you, studying your every reaction.

"Lord have mercy on me for you are going to be my first and most beautiful sin." With that you threw your head back." Your trembling body writhing in his arms. The intensity of his closeness made you so weak and vulnerable.

His gaze darkened, a mix of desire and restraint flickering in his eyes as your head tilted back, exposing the delicate column of your neck. He watched as your body trembled and writhed in his arms, the intensity of the moment making you weak and vulnerable.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he brought you even closer, his breath now hot against your skin. "First sin, eh?" He grumbled, his voice rough and low.

His gaze fixed on your small, clutching hands as they tangled in his shirt. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed against him, your heart pounding in harmony with his own. As your lips parted, almost as if beckoning him closer, he felt a surge of desire mixed with a hint of guilt.

"You're too damn temptin', ya know that?" He murmurs, his rough voice filled with a mixture of frustration and need.

"And you're the end of me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. With a tilt of your chin, you closed the distance, letting your lips meet his in a fleeting moment of connection. It was a bold move, driven by the intensity of the moment and the unspoken chemistry between you.

His breath caught in his chest as your chin tilted upwards, your lips meeting his in a moment that felt like the end and beginning all at once.

He pulled you impossibly closer, his grip on your waist tight and possessive. His lips moved against yours, rough and hungry, as if trying to memorize the taste and feel of your mouth.

His lips tasted of whiskey and cigarettes, the sharp tang of alcohol mingled with his own distinct flavor. The effect he had on you was intoxicating, his presence alone enough to make your world spin and your thoughts hazy.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth with rough and passionate urgency.

You pulled back slowly, your breath catching in your throat. "Never been drunk before," you said breathlessly, "but I drank from your lips."

He chuckled as you pulled back, your words a breathless admission of your inexperience with intoxication. He couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you compared the kiss to a taste of alcohol.

"You're a quick learner," He murmured, his voice rough and low. "One taste of me, and you're already addicted."

"You are my nirvana, Simon Riley, and I am not letting you go now," you declared, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. The rain outside continued its rhythmic patter, a soothing contrast to the intensity of the moment inside.

His heart skipped a beat at your words, the raw honesty and possessiveness in your tone igniting a fire within him. He looked down at you, his gaze intense and unwavering, as he absorbed your declaration.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," He warned, his voice a gravelly whisper.

"You can put a bullet through my heart and I won't complain now. Can't let you go, won't let you go," you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

It was as if your words had struck a chord deep within him. Ghost's breath hitched, his heart pounding with a mixture of desire and determination. He knew you meant every word, and it stirred something primal within him.

"You're insane, you know that?" He grumbled, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "I could break you, and you'd still come beggin' for more."

"You havent seen my limit of insanity. I can kill and get killed for you Lieutenant." I said breathlessly.

His brows furrowed, his grip on your waist tightening. He knew you meant every word, that you would cross any line and push any boundary for him. The thought both exhilarated and alarmed him.

"Don't tempt me, darlin'," He warned, his voice a low growl. "I don't need you on a damn suicide mission for me."

"With you by my side I am ready to cross every line and every border. I can risk it all. You have no idea how crazy I can be for you. You are the beginning of my end Simon." His name was like a pray from my lips.

His gaze darkened, his expression a mix of concern and intrigue. He could see the determination in your eyes, the unwavering devotion that fueled your words.

He sighed, his breath warm against your skin. "You're somethin' else, darlin'," He murmured, his voice a rough whisper. "You're ready to defy all boundaries, risk it all, for me. It's like you're askin' to dance with the devil himself."

"Dance with the devil and chant your name all night." I whispered.

His lips curled into a devilish smirk, his eyes glinting with a mix of desire and intrigue. Your words, whispered like a sinful confession, sent a shiver down his spine.

He pulled you even closer, his body molding against yours. "You're playin' a dangerous game, darlin'," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "Chantin' my name like it's some unholy prayer. Just be ready for the consequences that follow."

A moan escaped your lips.

His eyes widened at the sound of your soft moan, the unexpected noise sending a surge of heat through his body. His grip on your waist tightened involuntarily, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Lord have mercy on me," He growled, his voice a low and rough grumble. "You're drivin' me insane with those sounds, darlin'. You've got no idea what you're doin' to me."

"No mercy for both of us now. We are going to hell together." You said as you wrapped your lips around him taking his lips into yours.

He let out a low, guttural groan as you wrapped yourself around him, your body pressed against his with a desperate urgency. The feel of your warmth and softness ignited a fire within him, primal and powerful.

He returned your kiss with fervor, his mouth claiming yours hungrily. His hands roamed your body, tracing and grasping at every contour as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

"Damn it, darlin'," He grumbled, his voice ragged and filled with need. "We're goin' straight to hell together, but it'll be one helluva ride."

Oh Simon.! His name was like a silent pray.

His heart skipped a beat as his name slipped past your lips, a soft whisper filled with longing. The way you said his name was like a damn prayer, a silent invocation that sent shivers down his spine.

He pulled you even closer, his body pressed against yours in a desperate embrace. The sound of his name on your lips was like an addiction, something he craved more and more.

"Keep sayin' my name like that, darlin'," He grumbled, his voice hoarse with desire. "And you might just bring me to my goddamn knees."

"Already on my knees for you." You whined.

He groaned softly, his grip on you tight and possessive. "You're drivin' me damn insane," he growled, his voice rough with need. "On your knees for me, beggin' for more. You're gonna be the death of me, darlin'."

"I just wanna be yours. Called yours. Please, Simon," you pleaded.

He pulled you closer, his body now flush against yours, his hand moving up to cradle the back of your head. "You're already mine, darlin'," He murmured, his voice rough yet tender. "I've claimed you, body and soul. There's no goin' back now."

"Body and soul, flesh to my bone." Your fingers played with his locks as you crashed your lips into his.

His breath caught in his chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. He returned your kiss with a fierce passion, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungered clash.

His hands roamed your body, his touch rough yet tender, as if trying to memorize every inch of you. "Body and soul, flesh to your bone," He growled against your lips, his voice a rough, primal whisper. "You're mine, darlin', through and through. No goin' back now."

He unbuckled the belt of your gown, and it fell. Inside, you were wearing slim-fit jeans and a tank top.

His eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve and contour. "Damn," he grumbled, his voice rough with desire. "You're even more beautiful like this, darlin'. All soft and bare, just for me."

The night devolved into a frenzy of passion and desire, the room echoing with the sounds of your moans and his growls. Ghost claimed you with a fierce possession, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck, marking you as his own.

He moved with a feral grace, lifting you up effortlessly and carrying you to the bed. His body molded to yours as you both crashed onto the mattress, a tangle of limbs and breathless moans.

He hovered above you, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. "You're goddamn beautiful, darlin'," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "You drive me wild."

It wasnt long till you both got unddressed. Tangled in the sheets together while he drove you wild with esctacy. The feeling was heavenly with him. "Its my first time and I love to do it with you." You said.

His breath hitched as you admitted your inexperience, the knowledge that you were giving yourself to him for the first time sending a thrill through his body. His touch softened, his hands roaming your body with a gentle tenderness.

"I'll take care of you, darlin'," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with desire. "We'll go at your pace, and I'll make sure you feel nothin' but pleasure."

His restraint had long been broken, the boundaries of passion shattered. The bed creaked and groaned under the intensity of your shared desire, the sounds of your lovemaking filling the room like a primal soundtrack.

He claimed you with a desperate hunger, his body intertwined with yours in a passionate dance of flesh and heat. Every touch, every kiss seemed to push the boundaries of what was possible, leaving both of you breathless and writhing in ecstasy.

As your moans filled the room, muffled cries and tears staining the pillow beneath you, he clutched your hands tightly, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. The sounds of your pleasure and tears mixed together in a bittersweet symphony.

He held you closely, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release. Ghost's heart pounded against your back, his breaths hot and ragged against your skin. He didn't speak, his own emotions too raw and overwhelming to put into words in that moment.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, skin to skin, heart to heart. His touch was rough and hungered, his hands roaming your body possessively as he took you to new heights of pleasure and ecstasy.

When you eventually crumbled, boneless and spent beneath him, he held you tightly, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.

A ride to hell turned out heavenly.

[isa-ah]

y'all ever get a nightmare that reminds you of some crazy real life shit u still can't believe you actually put yourself thru lol

[scrapsofinspiration]

florida!!! goes on loop IMMEDIATELY

[raeathnos]

.

[jyoongim]

Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)

Title: A Reminder To All…

Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.

It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.

You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what 

You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.

You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.

There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.

You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?

You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.

why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.

A shiny pink camera caught your attention.

And it was cheap.

You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.

what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.

that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.

Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.

you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.

You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch

”what is that my dear?” 

You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera

His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.

”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.

He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.

”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?” 

you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”

His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”

you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.

Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.

after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.

You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.

why the hell was it so cold?

you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.

your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.

Alastor.

In his demon form.

Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”

He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.

you were so confused.

you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.

“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.

You tilted your head confused at his question.

he was angry about a damn camera?

A clawed hand was at your throat.

”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”

You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.

”A-Al?!”

Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.

when the hell did he undress?

You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.

”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.

You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.

your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…

”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”

A long tongue sweated the side of your face

”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.

Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.

Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.

Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.

A blinking red dot turned on and off.

Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.

”eyes on me dear”

you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.

Antlers.

you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.

you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.

he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.

He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.

You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.

the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.

”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.

Moans and whines filled the room as he  pounded your cunt.

A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.

you were gonna cum soon.

”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.

Did he get bigger?

you were suddenly face to face with him.

Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.

Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.

you tugged.

Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.

you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.

Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera

”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.

you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.

”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.

He gave a reminder.

Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.

[shesacrified]

tag dump: updating tags & new verses!

[dante-mightdie]

A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺

nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth

c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda

it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to

they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that

simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…

“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer

simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads

“she’s so selfish.”

‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(

“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.

you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john

“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you

simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them

and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t

he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him

he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.

‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan

his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom

“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen

he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years

he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house

you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks

“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt

“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly

“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh

“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter

he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes

“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him

he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip

“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer

he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date

but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

-

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK FOR YOU: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)

Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Part 11:

Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?

You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"

You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."

Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.

Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."

You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."

Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."

"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"

"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.

You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!

"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.

He sounds like a radio host...

Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.

What was this feeling?

You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".

"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.

On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.

That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.

This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.

Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.

"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.

Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.

"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.

Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"

Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.

Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.

Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.

He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.

Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.

"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."

You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.

"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.

Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.

You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.

You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.

Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.

He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).

The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.

Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"

Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.

His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.

You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.

You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.

"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.

You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."

You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"

A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.

You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.

-> Part 12

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP FIC IDEA: The Dauntless Matchmaker

Danny Fenton is short on cash. He has been short on cash almost all his adult life, but usually, he can pull through untill the last minute before breaking and asking his family for help.

It's a pain in a half trying to find a job that is flexible enough to accommodate his "Health" issues.

He needs time off to keep his agreement. See back when he was sixteen, he realized that the ghosts that had been bothering him were all trying to challenge him for his power.

At first he looked like easy prey- being new and all- but the more fights he won the more his reputation rose and that made the ghosts attack less frequently.

They just became harder since the big guns wanted a crack at him. Danny proposed that the fights be in neutral grounds- the ghost zone- since fights in Amity Park were ruining his haunt.

Haunt Rights were highly protected and respected in the Infinite Releams.

His adversaries agreed under the condition that Danny responded to the battles within two hours; otherwise, they would haunt him in the human world.

Ghost fighting in the Infinite Releams to keep the ghosts busy, and nowadays, only the strongest bothered him like a bi-weekly challenge from dead beings that don't understand scheduling.

It worked out.....until he couldn't explain why he was missing so often in the human world. With the help of some friendly ghosts, he was able to fake a diagnosis of some muscle disorder and has been living with the excuse that he would go MIA because of it. He missed a lot.

Often enough to have almost every job he's gotten to fire him.

This brings him to his current problem. Yes, Danny can argue that he has a disability but to do so would mean having someone look into it and realize it's not real.

So when Charlie from the Tea MadHouse tells him not to bother returning tomorrow after a four-day-long battle, he can only sigh and turn in his tea maker apron.

He might have to call his parents to ask for help on this month's rent. That's a bitter pill to swallow.

If only there was a job that he could do that had no problem with him taking multiple days off without notice.

"Pardon me. I need a moment of your time." a voice calls out. Danny twists around, turning his neck slightly downwards to meet the green-eyed stare of a young boy.

"I have a proposition for you. My elder brother requires a fake lover to fool our family butler into thinking that he has moved on from the heartbreak of his last disastrous relationship. Not that anyone could blame Dowd for ending things with Drake. In any case, seeing as I have witnessed your unemployment, I figured you would do well for the job."

Danny blinks "I'm sorry?"

The kid pulls out a wad of cash. Danny can practically hear the ca-ching sound surrounding the boy as he raises a brow.

He gapes as the youth slaps the cash into his hand without so much as a blink.

"Do we have an accord?" The boy asks while Danny slowly turns the money in his hand.

"Whatever you say, temporary in-law," He says after flipping through the bills only to realize it's a hundred-dollars. A quick count of how many he's been handed causes his eyes to almost pop out of thier socket.

It's more then enough for this month's rent-hell he has some left over for at least four months!

"Excellent, we are expected at dinner. If Drake acts surprised to see you merely tap the table six times, then four. He shall fall into line and build off our lie."

Danny scrambles after the kid, nodding to himself. "Six, then four. Got it. Ugh, does the dinner have a dress code?"

It sounds like it would since a young boy just gave out hundreds like it was nothing. Danny would feel bad showing up in an old pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Maybe he has a formal shirt somewhere.

The boy's green eyes flickered to him, then his watch on his wrist. "An impressive observation. Pennyworth will not be impressed by a poorly dressed paramour. We have time to purchase a suit. Come along."

Danny has no idea how someone so small can walk so fast. He feels his breathing is coming in quick bursts, but the boy doesn't seem winded at all. He winces when the boy enters a well-known suit place that is very pricey. "Is this coming out of my pay?"

"No. This shall be covered by the company card," The strange child says, holding up a black card with a quick flick of his wrist. At the sight of it, two store attendants appear at their side, offering assistance. Danny has never seen such power.

"W-wait we have a company card?" He shutters, overwhelmed by the attendant pushing him into a changing room and a light blue suit in his arms.

"Yes. However, you have a limit on what can be spent with it. I shall review the details later regarding your medical, dental, and vision benefits."

"I GET DENTAL?!"

"Of course. America's ridiculous health programs will mistreat no employee of mine simply due to lack of funds. " The boy scoffed, sounding offended by the very idea.

Danny doesn't care how long he needs to pretend to be this boy's boyfriend, and he'll sign a contract right now.

_______________________________________

Damian waited for Fenton to finish trying on all the suits the personal sellers had pushed onto him. He personally thinks the light blue was the best but it doesn't hurt to try other options.

They need Fenton to look his best to woo Drake and get him to stop acting so pathetic.

Yes, Dowd had broken up with him for reasons Damian is unaware of, nor does he care enough to find them, but Drake has had plenty of people break up with him before and remain on good terms with him.

Just look at Brown.

Drake had also always bounced right back after the breakup, usually because he would get tied up in either work at Wayne Industries or Red Robin.

Yet, for some reason, unlike all the others, Dowd leaving has not only been messy it also threw Drake into a downwards spiral.

He has refused even to get dress- walking around in a bathrobe and fluffy slippers- eating ice cream and sobbing over photos of Dowd for hours on end. He taken a leave from Wayne Industries and mostly stayed on monitor duty as Red Robin.

At other times, he plays sad songs and watches romance movies with a dead look in his eyes. Usually there were crumbs of some unknown spicy chips all over his face too.

Really it was unseemly.

It's been four months of this, and Drake does not seem to be getting it together. Damian had researched online, and all of the articles indicate that he should have felt better by the third-month mark.

He would have left the fool well alone only Pennyworth is beginning to worry. And Damian refuses to let Pennyworth worry over something fixable.

His research showed that a "rebound" was highly recommended (if done correctly), in the healing process of a breakup. Drake refused to find one, so Damian assigned himself the task of finding one for him instead.

He considered Drake's past lovers' looks, interests, and personalities. Then creating a list of what was considered a good candidate he wandered around Gotham in search of someone who would be a perfect rebound.

His efforts led him to Tea MadHouse- a tea shop with a surprisingly good coffee menu- where Daniel Fenton worked. Over three weeks, Damian had watched him, categorizing the pros and cons that Drake would find within Fenton, and concluded that he would be perfect.

The fact Fenton has lost his job now only worked in his favor. He'll convince Drake that Fenton is a decoy for Pennyworth - since Drake was getting fed up with all the hovering- and he would never notice that the real target of this fake relationship would be Drake himself all along.

Fenton will woo him, sweep him off his feet, make him forget Dowd and ride off into the sunset with Drake none the wiser. It was full-proof.

Damian will make Drake rebound on Fenton, even if he has to throw the idiot at the other teen. He is getting awful tired of the concerned glances whenever Drake slumps his way into a room.

No other reason. He certainly didn't care about Drake that much nor did does he lay awake at night wondering how Drake is doing now that he does not have someone to hold him.

Drake doesn't sleep well alone.

"How do I look?" Fenton stepped out of the booth wearing the light blue suit. It made his eyes pop and framed his body well.

Yes, muscular. The body of a boxer. Drake will lose his mind over those biceps.

"Ravishing." He tells the nineteen-year-old. Damian barely bites back a smirk as Fenton flushed, painting a pretty picture. Drake enjoys talking his lovers up, and Fenton will do well to receive plenty of compliments. "Let us be off."

Drake won't know what hit him.

[tgcg]

bad mouther, hole master

TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell

CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.

TG: what

CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.

TG: oh

CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!

TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit

TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats

TG: thats gross

TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on

TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it

TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much

TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine

TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary

TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.

TG: did you just homestar me

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?

TG: hell no

CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.

TG: proving your point--

TG: bro have uh

TG: have YOU???

CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?

TG: come on

TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths

TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though

TG: grab your spade and get digging man

CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????

TG: just tell me

CG: ???????!!!!!!!!

TG: karkat

CG: NO!

TG: f-

CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????

TG: wait no

TG: oh my god dude

TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me

TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies

TG: patently not my business

CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.

CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.

CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.

CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.

CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.

CG: HAPPY?

TG: ……..

TG: way to defuse the situation solid work

TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it

TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this

TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it

TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit

CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?

CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.

CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!

TG: youre

CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.

TG: oh gimme a break

TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done

TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any

TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex

CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --

TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh

CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --

TG: -- not a real thing you just said

CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!

TG: stop saying nub

CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD

TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea

CG: DON'T YOU DARE.

CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!

TG: dude did you actually run out of insults

TG: okay this is getting concerning

TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks

TG: that can not be happening

CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR

TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate

CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!

TG: feel like ive done some damage here

CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!

TG: alright bud time to calm down

CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!

TG: okay whatever!

CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!

TG: jeez

…

TG: here

…

CG: UGH.

TG: yeah

TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private

CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.

CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.

CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?

TG: what conversation?

CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming