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yexthiccxa · 8 months

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The Angel With Horns Pt. 1

summary: you accept a teaching position at jujutsu high where you get to work with your childhood crush, suguru geto. unfortunately, that means you'll also have to work with your childhood nemesis, satoru gojo. are you going to rekindle new flames or potentially make new ones?

wordcount: 7.3k 🙃 (this is pt. 1 and it's four chapters long)

c/w: gojo/fem!reader, geto/fem!reader, gojo/oc, geto/oc, modern!au, teacher!au, smut, fluff & smut, some plot, plot what plot, flashbacks, timeskip, asshole!gojo, flirty!gojo, cocky!gojo, soft!geto, cousin!shoko, mutual pining, teasing, flirting, playful banter, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, sensual tension, sexual tension, pet names (angel), dry humping, fingering, oral, fantasizing, multiple orgasms, inappropriate use of cursed energy, inappropriate use of cursed techniques

a/n: eeeep. this is my first fanfic so feedback is welcome 🥺it’s a first person pov where the unnamed oc is meant to be the reader! Currently working on Part 2!

edit: just posted this part on ao3 if you'd rather read it there!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

Chapter 1: Reunited

It’s clear as day but my mind is fuzzy. There are thousands of thoughts surging through me, but all I can focus on is the pleasure filling my body. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve always wondered if this day would ever come. My hips are pinned against his counter. Arms stretching wide while my fingers grip his sink. My neck rolls back as the rays of light blind me from his window.

In my head, I’ve spent countless hours wondering how it feels to have his body pressed against mine. Or how his breath hovers on my neck as he pulls me closer. His scent is undeniably sweet, but the way he handles me tells me that he’s everything but that.

“I always thought you were a good girl,” he growls in my ear, kissing his way down to my neck like it was never his to claim. “I never expected you to prove me wrong.”

I imagined how his kisses would consume me, how his touch would paralyze me, and how his moans would ignite me. But in all these years, I never imagined this entire fantasy would be with someone else instead.

✦✧✸✧✦

TWO WEEKS AGO

The clouds begin to subside as I walk through the familiar gates of Jujutsu High. The droplets of rain fade away and a strange mix of emotions hit my core. Today marks the beginning of my journey as a teacher here, but I can't stop myself from feeling a pang of anxiety. Amid the unease, there’s still a sense of comfort in returning to a place I once called home.

My footsteps echo softly on the hallway tiles as I make my way to room 3-A for orientation. The memories of my time as a student creep into my thoughts. It’s changed in many ways, but I find solace in knowing that there are still a few people here that I can lean on.

When I moved back to Tokyo and got the teaching position, Shoko mentioned that Suguru taught here as well. Memories of him invaded my thoughts. We were practically inseparable during our high school years, largely due to my close bond with Shoko. Wherever she was, I was sure to follow—our Ieiri blood may tell us we’re cousins, but I always thought of her as my sister. Her friends were always fun to be around. However, they constantly got into situations that always put me on edge. Shoko has always been such a free spirit, and while I adore her, I know her comfort zone far surpasses my own. Despite my lack of participation in their wild adventures, I surprisingly never felt left out or lonely.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Finding curses in abandoned hospitals sounds way cooler than studying curses… in a book,” I muttered to Suguru as I gestured to my pile of textbooks.

“How many times do we have to go over this? I’d rather practice my curse techniques here instead.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and lowered his face towards mine—his breath tickling my ear.

“Plus, taking care of you is a hell of a lot better than taking care of everyone else,” he chuckled.

“Who said you needed to take care of me?” I protested. He remained close, and I felt his mouth curve.

“I never said I needed to. I want to take care of you,” he whispered. A secret for only my ears to hear.

Throughout the years, I grew to love his playful laughter. It was soft, tinged with warmth and sincerity—though it always seemed to trail his jokes that slightly missed the mark. And his touch, though never sensual, always felt protective—like a wolf looking after its pack. The more I learned how sweet Suguru was, the deeper I fell in love. For years my guarded soul harbored this secret, and even if the world was ending, I swore to myself that I would never tell a soul. The "what ifs" often danced through my thoughts, but ignorant bliss always outweighed the risk of potential heartbreak.

My thoughts come to a halt as I turn a corner, and suddenly, I'm face-to-face with a towering presence. My breath catches, and my eyes instinctively trail up the contours of his strong frame. The world around me blurs for a moment, and my heart quickens. But before I can fully process the shock, a familiar voice calls out to me.

"Hey, there’s my girl! Did you realize the world wasn’t as great without me?" Suguru teases, his voice bringing back years of memories.

"Suguru!" I exclaim, a surge of excitement makes me toss my arms around him. My words tumble out eagerly, "If I was your girl, I probably would’ve never left." I laugh, though my heart races as curiosity causes his brow to rise. “I’m just kidding. Everything was great, but I’m glad to be back though." It may not have been the best save, but it’ll work for now.

My arms tighten ever so slightly, and I’m compelled to study him. His shoulders are still broad, yet somehow, they seem larger than I remember. His hair has grown longer, though he still keeps it partially tied. The chiseled contours of his jaw feel like steel against my skin, but his arms around waist are gentle and comforting. I notice that the morning gloom has officially cleared, because his beauty is bathed in sunlight. As we break away from our hug, his dark eyes meet mine with recognition and warmth, as if our time apart has only deepened our connection.

"Well, I’m glad it was good. I’ve missed you." he rumbles, his voice resonating like a soothing melody.

"Likewise," I reply with a warm grin, feeling a rush of nostalgia. "Will you be at orientation today?"

He explains that he has to help Yaga with some setup throughout the morning. I try not to let my smile drop, but he's quick to notice. Of course he notices, it's Suguru. Before I can even process my thoughts, he adds, "I have the same lunch break as everyone else though, let's catch up then? We can meet in the courtyard."

A surge of excitement washes over me, and I nod eagerly. "Sounds perfect," I reply. Feeling a newfound sense of confidence, I continue on my way to the orientation room.

“I’ve missed you." his voice echoes through my mind. For a moment, I can't help but wonder, was he thinking about me the whole time I was gone? Why did he call me his girl? Does that mean he had feelings for me? No—stop, that can’t be. If he had feelings for me, he would've said something, right? But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

My stomach begins to flutter as a seed of hope is planted into my heart. The slightest possibility of Suguru's interest sends me to the moon. I know I’m not the same girl I was when we last saw each other. So maybe, just maybe, this is a sign.

As I head towards the room, my steps feel lighter than they've been in a long time. For once in my life, I can finally hope for something more. I finally believe that I…my heart sinks as I reach the door.

Blocking my path is a figure I desperately hoped to avoid—the infamous Satoru Gojo.

Chapter 2: Repulsive

Much like Suguru, Satoru’s build overpowers me. His arms rest on the edge of the doorframe and I can see the contours of his bicep peek through his shirt. I take in a sharp inhale and reluctantly step forward. Satoru will not, I repeat, not get the better of me today. I hesitate for a moment, locking my eyes with his.

He peeks out from the edge of his sunglasses, and the corners of his lips begin to curl. I watch as pieces of his platinum hair barely brush the top of his rims, while others just fall short of his eyes. It’s been years, but those striking pools of blue remain etched in my memory. Swirls of azure, navy and cobalt fill my vision, but I stop myself before my gaze begins to linger.

I attempt to slip past him but find myself with no clear escape. As I contemplate my next move, I mutter a greeting through gritted teeth, "Satoru."

His smirk grows into the devilish grin that haunted my past. "Hey there, Angel,” he purrs. “No hello? Or how have you been?" His tone takes on a playful note, laced with a hint of something else—something I can't quite decipher.

I try my best to let the moment pass, but I’ve let this go on for far too long. I’m done ignoring his comments. “You know I have a real name right?” I bite back.

“But why switch it up now? You’ve always been my little angel,” he teases mockingly.

“And you’ve always been a pain in my ass,” I reply, my stare unwavering.

“She fights back,” his brow rises in shock. “I like this new version of you. Keep it up.” His grip on the doorframe loosens and he turns to make his way into the room.

I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension of my grip escape through my fingers. As I regain focus, I notice Satoru has turned back, his face mere inches from my ear. His voice is smooth, like silk across my skin as he whispers, “I can be a pain in a lot of other places, but I promise it’ll feel good.”

My eyes widen as my pupils darken. My mouth runs dry as he chuckles his way to the edge of the room.

Memories of my high school days with Satoru flood back into my mind. His words cut through me, but in a way more akin to pleasure than pain. A mix of emotions overwhelm me, but I ultimately scowl at the sight of him. While Shoko and Suguru have helped me blossom, Satoru has always been the thorn in my side.

“Come on Suguru, are you really going to stay with her again?” Satoru asked.

“It’s okay, just go without me. I’ll go with you next time,” Suguru replies. His arm raises to scratch the back of his head.

This is the last festival of the season; there won't be another chance. “Please just go. I’ll be fi—,” I uttered.

“Well, enjoy your time with the little angel,” Satoru calls out as he continues walking away.

He makes his way out of our view, and I turn to Suguru, “Why do you even call him your best friend? He’s kind of a dick.”

Suguru laughs. “When you go through some of the stuff that we have, you’ll see that there’s a bond that goes deeper than blood. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but it’s not an excuse. Don’t worry. I can talk to him.”

I can’t stop myself from smiling with adoration.

I quickly find an empty seat in the orientation room, my mind still buzzing. The comfort and familiarity of the school are now tainted by the presence of someone I had hoped to forget. It was stupid of me to think Suguru and Satoru would drift apart after all these years. As I gather up my resolve to remain close with Suguru, I accept that their connection means my path with Satoru will cross more often than I would like.

✦✧✸✧✦

A full morning of orientation reduces my brain to mush. The anticipation builds and all I can pay attention to is the clock ticking away. Yaga drones on about teamwork, collaboration, and trust – unsurprising, considering his history mentoring Suguru and Satoru. If he survived that, I’m sure being the principal is a piece of cake.

As the clock finally strikes noon, I gather my belongings and head for the door.

“Ms. Ieiri—one moment please,” Yaga calls to me, stopping in my tracks. He assembles the group of new hires and hands each one a folded letter. “This is for the afternoon sessions. On this sheet you’ll find…”

His words trail off and I find myself glancing at the clock again, hoping that Suguru hasn’t been waiting too long. Once we’re dismissed, I rush towards the courtyard.

While my legs carry me on autopilot through the halls, I take a moment to examine the letter. The paper feels coarse, the creases are weighted with importance, yet the ink is delicately placed. The overwhelming amount of information makes it clear that I'll have to review it once lunch is over. I scan the letter to find main items scheduled for the afternoon:

1pm: Mentor Session (Room 2-C)

2pm: Lesson Planning (Room 1-B)

3pm: Team Review (Room 1-B)

Seems simple enough. I approach the stairs leading to the courtyard, when my eyes catch the small section at the end of the letter:

Mentor Assignment: …

As I hurry, I fail to notice the uneven step at the halfway mark. My foot catches the edge and suddenly, I’m airborne. I feel the letter escape my fingertips. My heart leaps into my throat and the world starts to blur.

I reach for the railing, but my grasp barely holds. In the following moments, I find myself colliding with a figure. His hold is strong, bringing me comfort. I feel his fingers slowly cup my arms—they’re soft, tender, holding me with care.

“Easy there,” he rumbles. “I got you,” his voice is low and radiates through my core. Suguru’s eyes lock onto mine and I feel the heat beginning to smolder. “I got you.” His words bounce through my head.

“Suguru. Sorry… I—” The words are impossible to make out.

“Don’t apologize,” Suguru smiles. “I like having you in my arms.” He adds a playful wink sending butterflies through my chest.

I hold his gaze and my body melts into his. Suguru and I have been close for years, but this time, it feels altered, deeper. It feels like the intensity of our connection is seeking something beyond friendship. We’re inches from each other and I wonder if he can hear my thoughts or feel my heart beat out of my chest. Time slows as I marvel at his smile. I let my mind wander just for a moment…

Suguru lowers, barely touching his lips against mine. He starts soft, planting kisses down my neck as he caresses my cheek. His touch trails to the rest of my body and delight surges within me. It's gentle, but I crave more. He bites my lip before slowly letting his tongue make his way inside my mouth.

Passion builds within me as one hand grips my hair and the other grabs my waist. When his fingers gently graze the small of my back, I writhe with pleasure, hoping he can’t feel the squeeze between my thighs. His taste is intoxicating—sending me into a fever that I can’t seem to break.

I close my eyes and let his mouth take me.

“I’ve been waiting for you…” he breaks away to tell me. His voice is on the brink of losing control. “...for a very long ti—”

“Hello? Are you okay?” Suguru asks. My focus immediately returns. “I’ve been waiting for you, so I was heading back inside to make sure you were doing alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Yaga needed to give us this letter and—oh fuck. My letter.”

He senses my worry and swoops me up in one solid motion, but I feel too weak to stand.

I turn to see that my letter has found its way in a puddle pooling at the edge of the steps. I rush down to grab it, but it’s already too late. While I can make out certain areas, the majority of it has smeared away. I bring my gaze towards bottom in hopes of making out some of the letters:

M..nt…. ….gnment: S…..u G…o

I pause—Suguru Geto. A knot hits my stomach and I’m waiting to identify whether this feeling is anxiety or joy.

I look up from the letter expectantly. “Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I ask.

“Yeah, it is! It’s nice being paired with someone you know. It’ll be just like old times.” His words are the only confirmation I need.

✦✧✸✧✦

Although the years have passed, it feels like Suguru and I have never skipped a beat. I miss the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way a strand of hair always manages to fall even when it’s tied. I could spend hours looking into his eyes and hearing all of his adventures and how he’s mastered his curse techniques.

The minutes go on and the end of our lunch hour approaches. Suguru frowns as he glances at his watch, and offers an apologetic smile. "I have to head out a bit early. Yaga needs some help before the mentor sessions start," he explains.

I nod understandingly, though I can't help but feel disappointed. "No problem, I’ll see you in a bit?"

He grins, those familiar eyes twinkling with warmth. "Definitely, I’ll see you later!" He gives me a hug and we part ways.

With a sway in my step, I find myself standing before the door of 2-C—but it’s locked. I scan the hallway to see if anyone can help, but there’s no one in sight. I grab my phone to text Suguru for help, but fate has other plans.

Before I can send the message, a familiar presence creeps up behind me. The weight of his aura envelops me. His body feels warm, yet somehow my blood runs cold. With a key in hand, he moves to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes my lips, and I feel the tension build around us. My heart races as I hear a voice, a soft whisper that ignites my soul.

"Hey there, angel," the voice purrs. "Were you looking for me?"

I let out a deep breath to release the fury that boiled inside of me. “As a matter of fact, no. I wasn’t looking for you… Satoru.”

Chapter 3: Reinforcements

It takes me a second, but it finally registers. The letter didn’t actually say Suguru Geto. It was supposed to say Satoru Gojo. Suguru’s voice rings though my head:

“Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I try to recall. I guess I didn’t explicitly mention a name.

“Yeah, it is!” Damn it, why didn’t I say his name?

“It’s nice being paired with someone you know.” My body feels heavy as my soul fills with dread.

“It’ll be just like old times.” The world begins to spin around me.

I walk through the door without looking at Satoru and head straight for the windows on the other side of the room. The room itself is quite small, just large enough to fit a blackboard, a full teacher’s desk, and three smaller desks for the students. There’s a bit of extra room to spare, but none of it is enough to keep me away from Satoru.

In the reflection of the window, Satoru props himself against the larger desk, his long arms draped behind him. His smirk tells me he's completely at ease, as if he enjoys torturing me this way. “Not who you were expecting?”

I hold my response and continue staring out the window. I suspect he can read my discomfort.

His footsteps are quiet, but I feel them reverberate behind me. The air from the window feels cool, but it fades when his body radiates against mine. He leans down, bringing his hands around my sides. As he places them on the window sill, I can feel his face inch closer to mine. He’s too close for comfort but I can’t bring myself to push him away.

“With a bit more time, angel, you’ll see that I’m full of surprises.” I can feel the rumble in his throat as he speaks. “That is…if you’re willing to find out.”

My face turns hot and my thighs tighten. I may hate Satoru, but there’s something about his charm that feels irresistible. After years of dealing with him, I thought I’d get used to it. But this doesn’t feel like the same Satoru I used to know.

His arms are still placed on either side of me, but I swat him away, “Don’t you have better things to do than to tease me?” My brow rises. “Maybe… actually mentoring me?”

He lifts his arms in defense, “Hey angel, sorry if I’m coming on a little strong. I’m just having some fun.” He nudges my arm, and the force leaves me unsteady. “For old times’ sake.”

I roll my eyes and take a seat at one of the smaller desks.

“Plus, I’m not big on mentoring,” he adds. “Yaga has me doing this because I owe him for saving my ass on the last mission. Luckily he assigned me to you, and we both know you’re more than capable of doing this job without my help. It’s always been like that.”

“Oh how sweet. Is this your way of complimenting me?” I tease. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“What do you mean? I always give you compliments.”

“Calling me angel doesn’t count,” I sneer.

“Would you like me to call you princess instead?” He curled into a self-assured smile.

I blush, trying to bite back a chuckle. I lied, this is the same old Satoru. “So are you going to keep making up names, or are you actually going to teach me something?”

He brings himself close, his face stopping just short of mine. “I can teach you a lot of things, angel.”

I let out a sigh, “I’m serious, Satoru.”

“Fine, if you insist.” My curiosity is piqued as he props himself up and heads for the blackboard.

“Lesson number one: If you ever want me, don’t want me,” he smirked.

I drop my shoulders and let out a sigh, but he continues.

“I’m serious! Lesson number two: If you ever need me…”

I finish his sentence, “Don’t need you?” His smile confirms my thoughts. “What’s number 3, Gojo-senpai?” My eyes plead as I pout in an attempt to mock him.

He seems uneasy. “Don’t do that,” he quickly snaps back, and I straighten up. “And now, lesson number three, the most important one: If you ever need my help, learn how to help yourself first.”

With a hint of sarcasm, I reply, “Wow, what a wonderful lesson. I’ve learned so much.” I gather my belongings and prepare to leave. “I think I'll just ask Yaga to assign me to someone else.”

He steps closer, blocking my path before I can fully rise from my seat. "No, wait. Don't do that,” he implores, his gaze earnest. “Can you stick it out for a little while? Just until this mentorship period ends. I need to get through these two weeks so Yaga won't make me do this again next year.”

I force my way up and scoff in his face, “Why on earth would I do that? What the hell have you done in these last few hours or even the last ten years that would make me put in a good word for you?” My volume increases. “You constantly tease me, you’ve never helped me, and—”

“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he murmurs.

“Excuse me?” My voice remains elevated from the anger.

“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he repeats firmly.

“Oh,” I pause as my voice settles. “Why would you do that?”

“For someone so smart, you ask the silliest things. It’s obvious you like him, angel.”

My cheeks heat, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his penetrating gaze.

“It’s been obvious…for years—at least to me,” his voice softens. "And I promise, if you put in a good word for me, I'll help you with Suguru. No tricks, no games. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand, waiting for my response.

This deal seems too good to be true. I try to figure out what the catch is, but nothing comes to mind. Unlike before, his gaze feels genuine and his smile seems sincere. I take a deep breath, preparing for a leap of faith. For the first time in my life, I guess I’m going to have to trust Satoru.

I reach for his hand, allowing a confident smile to grace my lips. “Deal.”

✦✧✸✧✦

Although this is not how I pictured my first couple of weeks back in Tokyo, this alliance isn’t as terrible as I thought. At the end of our work days, Satoru and I hang back in Room 2-C for our “mentoring” sessions. We spend 1% of the sessions on actual work, and the other 99% on dating. I tell him that it’s been a while since I’ve dated, and Satoru jumps at the opportunity to refresh me on the art of flirting.

"Alright angel—you’ve known Suguru for a while, but I’m guessing like you only ever interact with him as a friend. Try starting…” he picks up his hand to graze the side of my arm, fingers lightly dragging towards my wrist. “...with light touches. Make sure you maintain eye contact and smile genuinely." His voice is velvet and slow.

A shiver runs through me, and my mouth goes dry. I clear my throat. "Light touches, like this?" I laugh hesitantly. I try to mimic his advice, but it’s nowhere near as gentle as his.

Satoru chuckles. "Close, but you’re too tense. Just relax a little bit."

I soften my touch and continue to brush my fingers up his arm. As I slowly pull him towards me, our eyes lock and I’m immediately mesmerized. There’s a flutter in my core and it turns into desire. There’s an ache between my thighs, and moisture begins to form.

“That’s it,” he purrs as he leans towards me. “Just like that.” The pull of his voice is a magnet that continues to bring me closer. My heart races while the quickness in my breath trails slowly behind.

I close my eyes and let my cravings take control.

Satoru rests his thumb on the edge of my lip while the rest curl under my chin. He tilts my head and slowly whispers, “And that is exactly what you should do…” His voice perks back up to his normal tone. “...when you’re flirting with Suguru,” he smiles.

I shoot my eyes open and straighten up. What the hell was I thinking? Was I seriously trying to kiss Satoru? I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Wait…no, stop that. Something must be wrong, my wires are completely crossed. I shake it off to rid myself of the residual shame.

Shoko braided my hair like she’s done a million times before. “Hey, who do you think is cuter, Suguru or Satoru?” she posed out of curiosity.

“Hmm, that’s so hard. You know they're both hot.” I laughed. “If we’re going purely off of looks, probably Satoru. Sometimes I hate him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute. I think it’s the eyes.”

“Yeah,” she replies with a hint of dejection in her voice. “I think so too.” I knew what was coming, but I could tell she had trouble getting it out. “Would you be mad if I asked him out?”

I pulled away for just a moment, “Oh my god, go ahead! Don’t worry about me. Suguru is still cute, plus he’s way nicer to me anyways.”

She paused for a moment, then threw her arms into a hug, “You’re the best.”

I smiled back and returned her embrace. “Okay, now finish doing my hair.”

✦✧✸✧✦

During these last two weeks the only times I see Suguru are during our lunch breaks. His schedule is hectic, but I can see that he makes the time for me—even though I know he doesn’t have any. I use these moments to practice some of the things I’ve learned from Satoru. Light touch, eye contact, genuine smiles.

I’ve touched Suguru’s arm, stared into his eyes, and laughed at his jokes many times before, but it was never like this. This time, all of my actions are bold, assertive, and confident. It’s no surprise that Satoru is a master of charm, but I didn’t expect him to be a decent teacher as well. Come Monday, he’ll be happy to know that Yaga will get glowing reviews for his mentorship.

For today’s lunch, Suguru and I are sitting on the courtyard steps, inches away from where he caught me just two weeks before. He has a look on his face that I haven’t seen before. I can tell something is on his mind by the way his brow furrows and his smile drops.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

“I was—” he pauses, then retracts. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Come on, Suguru. You can tell me,” I place my hand on top of his.

He smiles, and I can tell my assurance has calmed him down. “I just found out that I’m leaving for a mission next week, and I won’t be back for a few days.”

“Oh,” I reply, a pang of disappointment lingers in my tone.

“I was wondering…” he starts. “Did you maybe want to hang out or something before I leave?” A nervous grin crosses his face before he adds, “Like outside of work?”

I perk up at his proposal. “Of course! I would love that. When were you thinking?”

“I know it’s last minute, but maybe… tomorrow night? It’s okay if you’re bu—”

Cut him off before he has the chance to ramble. I reply with, “I would love to.”

Our lunch continues and the conversation shifts between current events, life updates and playful banter. I learn that Suguru still prefers staying in over going out, he’s got a new obsession with cooking, and his hair care routine is a lot more involved than I thought. As he speaks, I can’t help but admire him and the person he’s become.

When we prepare to part ways, Suguru confirms our plans for the weekend, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Meet at my place around 7?” Grinning as he inputs his address into my phone.

“I’ll see you there,” I return a smile and hug him before I leave. The feeling of his touch is perfect.

Chapter 4: Reckless

The workday ends and I make my way to the usual room for my last mentoring session with Satoru. As I walk in, he notices the stupid grin plastered on my face. “You look a little chipper today, angel. What’s up? Excited that you’re no longer forced to spend with me?”

“Well, yes,” I laugh. “But also… Suguru asked me to hang out tomorrow tonight. I’m going to meet him at his place,” I fight to contain my excitement.

Satoru’s brow lifts with intrigue, “If you wanted an invite to come over, you could’ve just asked me.”

Confusion clouds my brain. “Excuse me?” I ask.

“He didn’t tell you we were roommates?”

The clouds dissipate when I realize what’s going on. “No he didn’t. I guess it makes sense though.” The thought of Satoru joining in on our date fills me with unease. “You won’t be there right?” I clarify.

“You can relax, I’m meeting up with someone too. No need to worry about me barging in on whatever “activities” you two plan on doing,” air quoting as he takes a seat at the desk in front.

“Satoru, stop. You don’t even know if that’s gonna happen,” I argue.

“You’ve spent ten years drooling over this man, and you finally get a chance to spend some time with him in his apartment…alone.” he starts. “I don’t know about you, angel, but that sounds like a recipe for sex to me.” He leans back towards the blackboard and places his arms behind his head. A smug look sweeps his face.

“Well, yeah I guess… but it’s more so…” I hesitate, struggling to find the words to say. The thought of Suguru and I being intimate has always crossed my mind, but I can't believe it might actually happen.

“Oh I get it… There’s no reason to be nervous. Sex is sex,” he interjects. “Plus, if he’s the one who initiated the date, I’m sure he’ll enjoy whatever happens, sex or no sex.”

He makes a good point, but I still feel unsure. Before I have the chance to stop myself, I blurt out, “Do you know what he’s into…like when it comes to sex? Do guys even talk about that stuff to each other?” The regret immediately slips through my lips.

Satoru gets up from his seat and brings his hands to my shoulders—a gesture of comfort I’ve never seen from him before. “He’s my best friend, I know everything about him,” he assures me. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Can you just tell me? Please?” I playfully beg, placing my hands on top of his.

Something about my question changes his demeanor, like he’s been waiting for it all along. The air shifts and suddenly I feel a rush of heat. Satoru drops one of his hands while the other drags across my chest. He begins to circle me, walking slowly, like a lion with its prey. In a situation like this, his towering presence would normally intimidate me, but something this feels different. I'm not feeling fear; instead I feel secure, fascinated, and curious about what lies ahead.

He makes his way behind me and I can feel him lower his head towards mine. “I can tell you…” he whispers, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. “But do you want me to show you instead?” His words send shivers to my spine.

He retrieves something from his pocket and places it into my hand. It’s a long piece of fabric, similar to the one he uses to wrap his eyes. My mind spins—stuck between the logic in my head and the cravings of my body. I hesitate for a moment, but the weight of my desire defeats me. “Yes. Please,” I say softly, as I wrap the cloth around my eyes.

“Perfect.” He ties the back securely, and I feel his touch tilt my head toward him.

I let out a breath and part my lips. Our lips touch, locking just for a moment before he briefly pulls away.

“I think for your benefit, and definitely mine, I’m going to keep my limitless on. That way it’s purely informational and you won’t feel a thing,” he says.

And just like that, an invisible barrier forms between us. While his touch is subdued, I still feel the heat hovering between us. The closer I try to get to him, the more I feel his body vibrate against mine—like magnets trying to repel. Damn it, Satoru. He might not feel a thing, but I… I still feel everything.

In my mind, I do my best to recall every part of Suguru from memory. I try seeing his face and emulating his touch. As the pieces of Suguru form, a clear image of him floods my brain.

I can feel his touch as Satoru moves up from my waist and beneath the hem of my shirt. He continues up to cup my breast and I can sense his kisses on my neck. They’re soft and muted, but the sensation still gives me chills. His breath is hot as his mouth works his way up to nibble my ear. I can feel his throat rumble when Satoru continues his lesson, “Do you want to know what Suguru is like?”

I nod. In my mind, Suguru’s dark eyes ease their way shut as he takes in my scent. His strands of hair brush against my shoulder as he continues to plant kisses down my neck.

“Suguru is a lover—always takes care of his women,” Satoru purrs as he rubs his thumb over my breast. The friction against my nipple sends a jolt of euphoria through my chest. “Do you want to see how he’ll take care of you?” he asks.

My body tenses and I feel a rush of liquid between my thighs. I roll my head back onto his shoulder and hum with pleasure. My breath is labored, I can barely speak. “Show me,” I manage to let out.

“Well to start, he’d make sure your lips never go hungry.” Satoru slowly turns me around while his kisses move to my lips. His lips are soft, smooth as he takes me in.

The intensity rises as his kisses become needy. Using his hands to grip my ass, he leans me on the edge of the desk behind me. Shock fills my body and I can feel his tongue finding its way inside my mouth. Waves of his cursed energy flow through me. It’s powerful—commanding my fingers to lock into his hair. I pull him closer, imagining Suguru's weight crashing into me.

As the ache between my legs intensifies I ask, “What else would he do?”

“He’d work his way up your leg… past your skirt…” he slowly whispers. “And find your clit. Just to make sure she’s happy too.” His fingers travel to my panties, stopping just above my slit. He uses thumb to rub the cloth, and the trembles of his limitless cause me to moan. I roll back and forth, grinding against his hand, desperate for more. My moans are endless and slowly amplify every time the pressure increases.

When he realizes I’m enjoying myself, he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties. I whimper, wondering when he can put an end to this torture. I crave him so badly, I crave the feeling of him inside me—anything to help me find release. He finally gives in and slides my underwear to the side. As his touch grazes against my folds, I picture how good it would feel to have Suguru’s large hands cupping my center.

Satoru picks up on my thoughts and continues feeding my fantasy, “While he teases your pussy, Suguru would tell you that you’re already soaking wet…” The thought has me dripping more liquid onto his fingers. I feel his mouth curl into a smile and he whispers, “...but we’re only getting started.”

His fingers thrust inside me and I can feel the magnitude of his hands as my walls tighten around him. The thrill from his fingers barreling into me stun every inch of my body. I can feel my thighs clenching on the brink of release. His fingers find the sensitive spot within my walls and his mouth claims every spot on my body. His kisses become ravenous, like he can’t get enough. The more he devours me, the more he leaves me breathless.

I can hear him groan in delight and I notice the way his bulge presses against me through his pants. The desperation only makes him harder.

As the intensity grows, I cry for more. “Oh Suguru, just like that.”

“Do you like that, angel?” His pace remains steady as the sensation of cursed energy collects into his fingers. They continue to push against the insides of my center until I can’t take it anymore. The rhythmic motion leaves me breathless and I feel my body racing to its peak.

“Ugh, Suguru, fuck…that feels—”

“Does he make you feel good?” His voice feels heavy, like a low growl.

“Y—, ugh, ye—” I can’t form words through the pounding of his hand. He’s rapidly sending me to the edge and I’m ready to fall. “Suguru, you’re going to make me come.”

“Yes, angel.” Satoru says, before planting his lips onto mine. “Come for him.”

Those words are enough to break me. The orgasm flows through my body and I feel myself beat around his fingers. His pace slows, but the sensual touch only brings more gratification. The thought of Suguru sending me into ecstasy leaves my body light, and my mind clear. The waves slowly subside and I feel myself resurrect.

My hands head for the wrap on my eyes, but I hear Satoru whisper, “We’re not done yet, angel.”

I follow his lead and let the rumble of his voice bring me back into my dreams.

“Did you think Suguru would stop there?” he teases. “If there’s anyone he’d take special care of, it would be you.”

I feel his fingers slide out of me and I hear him lick the tips. “You taste so good.”

The words release a flutter in my core. I’m immediately enraptured and can’t help but crave more.

“Suguru would love this,” he starts. “Would you let him taste you too?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

I imagine Suguru’s strength as his hands cup my waist and he lifts me up on the desk. When I lean back, I feel him lift my shirt, exposing my breasts. “You’re so god damn beautiful.” His tongue licks my nipple before fully taking it into his mouth, giving it a playful tug.

“Please, I want you to taste me,” I plead. Liquid gushes out of me, giving him a good dose to start.

“As you wish, angel.” He bends down to hover his mouth over my center. I feel him linger before he adds, “Do you know what else Suguru likes to do?”

“Tell me,” I whisper.

“He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry,” he growls, letting his mouth devour my clit. The vibrations from his limitless amplify the sensation, and I’m on the verge of losing control.

My body goes numb as his words echo through my head. He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry. I let out a moan, but it feels more like a cry. I completely unravel, feeling the tides of my orgasm come back to shore.

“Oh my god, Suguru. That feels so good. Don’t stop,” I cry.

As he continues to glide over me, I throw my head back and writhe in pleasure. His tongue goes up and down my center in a harmonious rhythm, and I’m so close to feeling ecstasy. His mouth on my lips may have felt needy, but his mouth on my pussy feels absolutely desperate. The ripples of his limitless accompany the motions and bring me to my limit. As he plants his hands on my thighs, I immediately crumble.

I melt into my orgasm as my legs tense up around him, squeezing him towards me. I picture Suguru’s hands gripping my thighs while he moans back in delight. My breath is quick, my heartbeat is unsteady. The muscles inside me contract and pulsate all over his tongue. He has me slick and he licks up every bit of the liquid that trickled from me.

“And that, my little angel… is a little taste of what you can expect from Suguru Geto,” Satoru chuckles.

I relax my legs and I feel one last kiss grace my center. I lay for a moment, feeling both lifeless, yet satiated. The thought of Suguru between my thighs still lingers in my mind.

“That was amazing, Suguru,” I breathed quietly.

As I sit up, my head is in a fog. I feel my brain spin for a moment. What just happened? Did I just have a wet dream about Suguru? Wait, no. Was it Satoru? It takes me a minute to recollect myself. Although I could see Suguru vividly in my mind, I remember that he wasn’t the person in the room. Anxiety surges throughout my body when I’m faced with the reality of what occurred.

I hear the door click, and rush to take off the wrap around my eyes. “Satoru, can we ta—”

To my dismay, there is no one else in the room. I see the blackboard behind me, the desk that seats me, three smaller desks in front of me, but Satoru is nowhere to be found.

Read Part 2 Here!

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sguidwards-bestfriend · 2 months

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So apparently pitchpearl is a thing, I've been on tumblr for a while and if you know any history then you understand why selfcest doesn't surprise me in the slightest

Anyway...

dpxdc Misunderstanding that becomes reality fic: 1.5k

part 1

Warning: I plan on a very melancholic ending, its a good ending but also kinda sad

...

When Danny moved to Gotham, he really had thought he wouldn't continue his hero work in this dimension.

But there was a little girl in the street that almost got hurt during a rogue attack.

But some kind of gas went off at the cafe he worked at and it's not like he really needs to breath and there were so many people.

But his University, Gotham U, was in a lock down from a random winter storm that definitely wasn't natural.

So he did what he could when he saw it and kept off of the news when he was doing class work, letting the other "vigilantes" pick up where he couldn't.

However, after a few more months of class, work, and being a vigilante (the news station that first showed him used the correct name!!), he was right back where he had been in Amity before he'd managed to close the portal.

Exhausted and failing at everything other than hero work.

The year after he had graduated high school he stayed in Amity and was able to make amends with the ghosts, being the crown prince definitely helped. He thought the ghost attacks stopping would have lessened his pa- Jack and Maddie trying to catch one. In reality they only became more and more frantic to catch the last ghost, "Mini Phantom".

Revealing he had a daughter, that that daughter was half ghost, hadn't gone well in the slightest.

The one shot Maddie managed to hit had almost destabilized her. He had grabbed her and ran into the portal. He wasn't sure how he'd done it, but in a fit of blinding rage he had destroyed both sides of the doorway to the Ghost Zone.

Frost bite had managed to get her to retract into her core. She'd need some time before she'd have a physical form again, and she'd need Danny to keep her stable for some time, but she would make it. She'd be fine in the end.

It felt weird to have two cores in his chest, but other than needing to take ecto shots it wasn't a huge change.

The last time he'd been to frostbite Ellie's core had some sort of shake to it. It could have been nothing, but a halfa was rare enough. A halfa making a never-born hadn't even been thought of. Add on, that that never-born could possibly be born a halfa was... concerning.

So here he was, in an entirely new dimension, nervously chewing on the end of his stylus, waiting to hear back from Frostbite. His study sessions lately kept being interrupted by thoughts of her. If she really was okay.

Then there was an earth shattering BOOM, that shook his entire building.

As he floated upwards and through the wall he caught a glimpse of something he had never seen before in his afterlife.

A daemon. An actual daemon with red skin and horns and a flaming tail crawling out of the ruble that used to be his front door.

Danny could sense immediately that the being wasn't from the ghost zone, but it held just as much power as one of the stronger ghost.

He transformed and landed in front of the being, "Hey! That was my front door! What gives, Rudolf?"

The daemon shook the dust off his head and looked at Phantom, then at his chest, and back at him. "I do not fight those that carry child."

"Oh... uh." He was not expecting that. "Are you okay?"

It was the daemons turn to look perplexed. "I am fighting a hellblazer, he owes me something. Refuses to pay."

"That's annoying." He looked around to see some guy in a trench coat at the end of the street. The yet to settle dust cloud making it hard to figure out any other features. "I can help if you-"

At that a massive blast of magic hit him and the daemon, sending them careening farther down the street.

Danny's vision went double and he thought he was going to throw up. All he could focus on at first was the pain as he tried to stand on wobbly legs, then it was the emptiness in his chest.

Ellie.

He closed his eyes and dropped back to the floor. He focused on her core. He found it quickly, checking it over, turning it every which way incessantly until he heard someone groan in front of him.

When he opened his eyes he was looking at two much smaller daemons, one a bright red, the other a darker wine red, sitting in a massive indent in the road. One he very luckily was on the very outskirts of.

The two immediately started to bicker, swatting at each other, but not actually fighting.

He heard footsteps on the wreckage behind him, some magic words were said and the daemons' were hand cuffed and poofed out of sight.

"Hey kid, you okay?" Trench coat asked him, not bothering to give him his hand.

"No thanks to you, you ass."

"I just saved your life." He said with a blank expression.

"The daemon wouldn't have done anything to me. Unlike you, they have a moral code."

Trench coat huffed, that seemed to ruffle his feathers. "And what would those morals be exactly?"

"They pay their debts, for one. And two, they don't magically attack people carrying children." Danny stood up and wavered. Trench coat grabbed his arm to steady him.

He stared at Danny for a few more seconds, "You're not human." It wasn't a question. He sucked in a breath, "You're not fully human."

"Ding, ding, ding." Danny tried to shake of the hellblazer's grip. "Let go of me."

"I know where to get medical attention for non humans. You need to be looked over." He said, starting the motion to make a portal.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." Danny said, patting the hand still wrapped around his arm. Trenchcoat let go and shoved him lightly, Danny felt the world twist around him as the pavement came up to meet his face.

Before he hit the ground he stopped in mid air, not by his own volition, and was gently propped back up.

"That blast spell is designed to not affect humans. You shouldn't have felt more than a breeze." Trenchcoat went back to opening up a portal, it glowed an eerie red. "Come on, well check the little one too."

Danny let himself get pulled through the red portal, it quickly closed behind them.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

His head was pounding.

"wha/t- morals- exactly?"

Talking.

"debts- two- atta/ckp/eo-ple- children."

Two voices. Two people.

"not human."

He feels empty.

"Letg/oof me."

He's hurt. His other half is hurt.

"You need to be looked over."

He opened his eyes, a man was holding his other half. His other half and his daughter.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." His other half swatted at the man.

The man pushed his other half to the ground.

He tried to reach out but his hand was barely a shimmering outline.

His other half didn't hit the ground.

There was ringing in his ears. The man would pay.

"Come on,- the little one too."

The man pulled his other half through a portal.

A sickly looking portal. A bloody color.

He floated up. Sped to the closing portal.

It closed too fast.

He wasn't fast enough.

...

It took Phantom 20 minutes to get his thoughts in order and another 10 before the ringing in his ears stopped.

He had been split in two before, but the ghost "dream catcher" the ecto-scientists made years ago had split his ghost half and his human half entirely. This was different.

He still felt a bit of his humanness. Transforming would suck though, he felt too low on ecto to do that.

His other half was in his human form when he looked. He still had Ellie nestled up against his core. But his core looked off. Although the silhouette was of a full sphere, he couldn't help shaking the thought that he saw some parts missing.

When Danny had been split before only his ghost had kept the core, it was what nearly killed them both. What made them promise to never split again.

Maybe if they both had bits of a core they'd be fine until they could reunite.

He tried to focus on his core but it made his head pound.

He'd have to hope his other half could manage as he tried to organize a rescue mission.

Although he'd managed to get a message from the Ghost Zone to Sam and Tucker, he wouldn't be able to get one dirrectly to their dimension.

He knew even trying to make a portal with his ecto as low as it was wasn't a good idea. And would be a waste of the ecto shots he had just chugged.

There was really only one hope of help he had left, one he really didn't want to ask.

A new friend he had made at the cafe.

Tim Drake-Wayne, son of Brucie Wayne. The very same Brucie Wayne that was definitely funding Batman's weird night life.

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

Wow this got away from me, honestly was planning on like 500 words. I want to continue this, but if anyone wants to pick it up and play around please feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I adore reading peoples additions to posts

(As always please please please help me writing tags i never knwo what to do with them, the lack of structure here compared to ao3 confuses me)

#pitch pearl #bad parents jack and maddie #dpxdc #my writing

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kettlefire · 7 months

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Ember & the Dark Knight

She just wanted her guitar back. That's all Ember wanted, she needed it. The growing pain inside grew the longer she was away from it.

Her only outlet. The only thing that helped her. In every way of the word. She had to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to keep it in the first place.

Promised she's never use it against the living again. Never try to brainwash anyone.

Then she lost it. Just like that. Flying through the Zone, and a particularly harsh natural portal ripped it from her grasp.

It's the only reason she was in this godforsaken city. It reeked of anguish and pain, and Ember just wanted to get out of there.

Something about the place the portal spit her out into, just didn't sit right with her. She wanted in and out of quickly as possible.

To just get back home in the Zone. Back to Skulker.

Except there just had to be a really weird guy in burlap sack mask. Which was weird enough as is, but hey Ember wasn't one to judge.

She tried to be civil. To ask for her guitar back. Her baby that the man had clutched in his grasps.

Maybe she should have seen it coming. This place had to be stranger than Amity. The man barely even flinched when he saw her glowing form.

Ember expected a fight okay. That was it, just a fight and then she can take her things and get the hell out of dodge.

But it couldn't be that easy. Of course it couldn't be.

Because then a large man in a black armor suit just had to come falling down from the ceiling. And of course the human man seemed to scare the weird Scarecrow guy.

Ember tried to be calm again. She really did, she promised the little dipstick that she's work on her anger.

That was until she got a burst of green gas into her face.

It was almost comical. The way she swatted the gas away from her face with a slight cough. Glaring at Scarecrow and Batman. As she found out the dude in the furry suit was called.

Scarecrow seemed excited, like he couldn't wait to see what happened. But Ember noticed Batman tense. Weapons on hand, and ready for what to come. Leaving her in a full confusion.

Then it happened. Whatever that gas was finally kicked in.

And everything was on fire.

She couldn't breath. Oh god, she couldn't breath. Heat radiated from the walls, and the two men just faded from her focus.

She needed to get out.

And she tried. She tried, even as her no longer functioning lungs seemed to ache for air.

Even as her core seemed to mimic a heart. Straining, and pounding against the fear, panic, and pain she felt.

But Ember tried to suck it up. Pull away from the licking heat of the flames. Forcing her way through the warehouse.

Looking for an exit. An escape. Anyway to get her way back home. To get back to Skulker.

At this point, Ember didn't care about her guitar anymore. It could burn for all she cared. She just wanted to get back to her love.

All that fight she felt faded away in an instant. Zapping out of her the moment her eyes landed on him.

Skulker, the love of her life, was there.

Trapped in the flames before her. The metal of his suit twisting and warping. Damn near melting beneath the intense heat.

A pain Ember wouldn't would even wish on her worse enemy. She knew what it felt like to burn. It felt like she was dying watching it happen to Skulker.

She stared wide eyed and frozen as the twisted and broken Skulker tried to stagger towards her. Broken sounds and choked screams leaving him as his suit fell apart. As the fire began to take over.

Ember fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face and pain tearing at her heart. She couldn't breath. She didn't need to but she felt like she was suffocating.

Then she screamed.

The first sound she made since this nightmare began. Reverberating through her chest, tearing out from her vocal cords in a damn near painful sound.

She wasn't sure when she had closed her eyes. But before she knew it, there were hands on her shoulder. And she fought back. Tried to shove the hands off her. Too panicked to even think of her powers.

She was terrified of what she'll see. A twisted and melting Skulker pulling her closer the fire. The only image her brain could fathom for the reason of the too warm hands grasping at her arms.

Ember heard it. Barely there behind the loud roar of the fire, and the still broken cries of her lover. It was a voice.

A normal voice. A concerned voice.

It took all her willpower to pull her eyelids open. Prepared to see the worse of the worse. Except it wasn't like that.

The fire seemed like an overlay. A horrible projection of something that wasn't there. Expect him. He was real. Ember knew it, because he was there when the nightmare started.

The man in the suit. The Batman.

His gloved hands were trying to pull her back to reality. Pull her away from the nightmare.

"Look at me. It's not real."

Those words, spoken in the gruff and deep almost robotic voice was what did it for her.

Almost in an instance, it was all gone. She was seated on a perfect fine, and not burning warehouse floor. Tears burning her eyes, chest in complete pain, as her core rocked with the experience.

Ember didn't know why she did it. Maybe she just need to feel comforted. Like a child after a nightmare, she latched onto the man.

The man that pulled her out of this nightmare. Both residual fear and panic, paired with overwhelming relief flooded her.

Because she gets to go home. Back to Skulker. Back to the Zone. She even gets to see that little dipstick again.

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nyc-looks · 1 month

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Adyn, 19

“I am wearing New Rock boots with purple flames. They are my favorite shoe company making various styles of gothic footwear from Spain. The pants are from a motocross brand Dye which I thrifted. I am also wearing a thrifted jersey that reads LISTED FREAKS. I am not sure what this jersey is from, but it stuck out to me because of the silhouette and that when I step out of my comfort zone I am often judged, so I embrace it by wearing freak across my chest. My style inspiration is linked to all I have experienced with my time on this planet. I use the negative energy in my life to express myself and create a positive display through my learned experiences. This is also the core message behind my brand (please tag Twisted and Divine where I create garnments to demonstrate creating light in darkness.“

Mar 16, 2024 ∙ Williamsburg

#nyc looks #street style #street fashion #new york #style #outfit #new york street style #motocross pants #new rocks

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bby-deerling · 14 hours

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7 of coins + the tower (marco x reader nsfw)

and now for something completely different...

this is one of my tarot prompt drabbles that @kazieai was gracious enough to allow me to share with you all <3 thank you!!, i love ya! these are always super fun because i get the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone and write for new characters :)

masterlist || commissions

cw: friends to lovers, afab!fem!reader, cowgirl position

tagging: @fanaticsnail @indydonuts

Content with your simple life and the sprawling greens of Sphinx, you had never envisioned yourself getting entangled with a pirate; as far as you were concerned, Whitebeard was the only one with some sort of tangible moral fabric seeing as he had turned your village in a hidden paradise with his financial support, a far cry from the lawless wasteland your parents had described growing up in. The cloistered state of your village meant that meeting outsiders, let alone pirates, with good intentions happened few and far between—that is, until the new doctor rolled into town.

It should be noted that he didn’t technically roll, he flew, with blue and yellow streaking flames across the sky that had you rubbing your eyes, convinced you were either hallucinating or developing a migraine. Following the trail of colors left nothing but a man in its wake; it was Marco—that much you were certain of when you saw the fluffy mess of hair at the top of his head—but his presence only causes you to swivel your head around, concerned that a gaggle of boisterous pirates were about to follow not far behind. Whitebeard’s funeral had been a solemn affair, but afterwards, Red-Haired Shanks and his crew had drank the entire village dry and kept every inhabitant up far past their bedtime, and their idea of “fun” was quite frankly too much for you to handle.

But thankfully, Marco had come alone this time, setting up a small doctor’s office within his new home, and quickly ingraining himself in the community; so calm and carefree, you nearly forget he’s a retired pirate at all, until the occasional group of bandits attack the village from behind the waterfall, and the phoenix takes care of the issue in mere minutes before smiling to himself and returning his attention to patching up the minor scrapes and bruises of the village kids. Though you had long ago resigned yourself to becoming the village spinster, you couldn’t help yourself from letting a bud of blooming affection sprout as you watch him tend to any issues that crop up around town, including things as trivial as helping you weed your garden or cleaning out your gutters. In fact, you quite enjoyed having someone to talk to who possessed both intelligence and humility in spades, that you end up finding yourself seeking him out for tasks that don’t really require his assistance simply so that you can spend time with him—and that’s all well and good, until one day, he calls you out on it.

“You can just invite me over without the silly pretense, you know.” he says with a smug grin one sunny afternoon after you asked him to come look at a creaky floorboard in your kitchen; to his credit, it was a flimsy excuse, but the wood does let out a squeak as his feet cross through the room on the way to your living room. Tray of tea in hand, you place the refreshments on your coffee table as you sit nearby in your favorite armchair, close enough for your knee to occasionally brush against his, making idle conversation with him as you sip on the piping hot liquid. The topics stay centered around the present, the current happenings of the village; though he sometimes told a story or two, you rarely asked him about his past, and perhaps he liked that your friendship centered around this new phase in his life. Mind wandering as he talks, the laid-back, soothing tone of his voice admittedly going straight to your core, leaving you with a flushed face. Zoning out, you don’t even realize how flustered you look until he snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“You’re spacing out today, yoi.” he says lowly, carefully worming your teacup out of your hands and placing it onto the table. He’s beyond amused as he watches the way your face fails to hide the feelings you’ve been trying to hard to swallow down; your little crush has been quite clear for some time, but he was intent on worming a confession out of you himself. “Any reason why?” he probes, leaning forward with a smug smile spread across his face.

Unsure if he was messing with you or not, you avert your gaze away from him and let out a deep sigh. “Marco, if you’re gonna reject me, just tell me now and quit teasing me.” you mumble out, cheeks heated as you steal a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Now that’d just be mean.” he says with a small chuckle as he cups your face, gently urging you to look at him before he presses his lips to yours, admittedly with more passion than you were expecting. The way his hands trail along your torso is steeped in heaps of experience that you lack, with precision and confidence that has you melting under his touch.

“Such a pretty little thing, yoi.” he muses as he pulls you into his lap, keeping a firm grip on your waist as he rolls his hips into yours. The intoxicating pull in the air makes you lose all dignity and composure, not thinking twice about how things might look to anyone nosy enough to peek thorugh your window when he reaches under your sundress and pulls your panties to the side. Circling the tip of his cock around your entrance teasingly, you bite on his lip as you sink down onto his length, knees buried into the plush fabric of your couch as you rock your hips against his. His firm hold on you makes every twitch of your body more intense; you can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex, let alone good sex, but the way Marco turns you into a feverish mess so easily leaves you spellbound, even more under his thumb than you already were.

“Let go for me.” he murmurs in your ear; with your clit grinding against him with each guided snap of your hips, you’re unbearably close. The vibrations from his words couple with the handful of your thigh that he grips possessively send you over the edge, unraveling you into a spit up, tangled ball of string as your walls flutter around him. Ears pounding and head light, your eyes are bleary and blurry as you come to your senses; he’s whispering sweet praises to you, but as the look in his eyes comes into focus, another wave of heat floods your core.

He's not done with you—not even close.

#one piece x reader #marco x reader #marco the phoenix #x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece drabble #one piece smut

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sketch-cat · 4 months

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The power of a good story

I lost count on how many times I listened to balance. I wanted to make a poster to celebrate this relisten i just finished. This story is so important to me as I’m sure it is to so many people, it never fails to make me cry- with laughter and sadness. At its core, it's about the importance of bond, our connecting to the world and people around us, and how important stories are in our experience of those connections . A power that is only matched by lesbians with knives.

Thank you for the goofs boys, they live on in every reality.

[image ID: a poster for the Adventure Zone: balance. It features four segments with vibrant background colors that overlap each other but are separated by black tendrils with streaks of color in them: the Hunger. At the top we see the moon base, the starblaster flying through the hunger, seven bird silhouettes, a small part of a huge purple worm and big crab claws. The section below is featuring Magnus, a white man with auburn hair wearing armor and red clothing. He is holding a big axe aiming it at the purple worm, he is surrounded by flames. The section below features taako, a purple skin blonde elf with a pointy hat a purple cape and a pink skirt. He's preparing a magic spell to cast at a horde of faceless mannequins in front of him. behind him is the colorful wheel from wonderland. the bottom section has merle, a grey haired dwarf with a beard and an eyepatch wearing an orange shirt and khaki shorts, he holds a book open with one hand and his other hand is wooden, and is casting magical yellow light at some vines with flowers and a toothy flytrap. behind him are pink tourmaline stalagmites. everything is surrounded with a black frame with the artists signature. on the black tendrils separating the segments are the words The Adventure Zone written by hand in yellow. End ID]

#i finished this while still on the first few eps of stolen century and waited until i finished to post it #like somehow anyone would know or give a shit that im not done yer #but i'd know >:(#taz balance #the adventure zone #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #taako taaco #described

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canthavetoomuchchaos · 6 months

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hot chocolate and chases

Sam Collins x Darlin'

Fluff

Tw: hot drinks, eating, sugar, chasing around a home lmk if I missed any <3

It's snowing outside, which isn't out of the ordinary, except for the fact that Sam can't for the life of him, find Darlin'.

He's looked up and down the whole house, searching every nook and crevice the wolf tended to hide in when they tried to scare him.

"...Darlin? Where are you hidin' this time?"

they snicker from their place in his closet, having squeezed their body onto the top shelf somehow. Sam perks up and slowly creeps towards the closet, and Darlin pulls out their phone, turning on the flashlight.

Sam opens the closet and is immediately met with a bight light in his eyes

"FLASHBANG"

Darlin' yells and scrambles out of the closet, running out the back door and shifting, and running into the treeline. Sam grins and chases after them, knowing this game quite well. Whenever Darlin' is feeling playful, they like to play tag, this seems to be one of those times.

"Darlin'! You know I'll catch you! Come-on out and maybe I'll be nice and not tickle you this time!"

If a wolf could snicker they would, they slowly approach Sam from behind, getting low to the ground, their winter coat dragging in the snow silently. They jump on Sam with a playful snarl, pushing him face first into the snow.

"what- hey! Darlin'!"

Sam laughs and rolls over, watching his wolf bound around, jumping and bowing, wanting him to play. Their tail gives away their excitement as it wags frantically through the air, excitement whines and growls leaving their snapping jaws as they end up trying to roll and get closer. Except for the end up rolling into their back.

Sam laughs and stands up, walking over to Darlin' and crouching next to their now wiggling wolf form.

"havin' fun there Darlin'?"

they let out an odd almost English sounding

"yesh" and then snorted. Their upper lips are pulled back in a snarl, though it looks like a giant smile. Sam laughs and gently starts rubbing their belly, having watched Asher get tummy rubs often from his Mate.

Darlin' pauses and let out a gently whine, their leg kicking as they let him scratch their stomach.

Sam laughs and gently pats their stomach.

"c'mon darlin' let's get inside, don't need either of us gettin' sick now do we?"

He stands up and starts walking back to the Cabin, a smile still on his face as his wolf huffs and starts bounding around again, their fur covered in the cold powder and slightly damp.

They reach the cabin and Darlin' shifts back, phasing back into their clothes, shivering with a giant grin on their face.

"I miss doing that!"

Same matches their grin and opens the door, letting Darlin inside first and following right behind.

"you go warm up by the fireplace Darlin. I'll make some hot cocoa to help warm us back up."

They smile and kiss his cheek, walking over to the fireplace to do as he asked.

He pauses and if he could blush he would be as red as the blood he has to drink. He moves to the kitchen and makes himself busy making hot chocolate. Once finished, extra marshmallows in Darlin's cup, knowing they would like the sugar.

He carefully walks to the fireplace finding them sitting on the floor in front of it, slightly zoned out looking into the flames.

"Darlin'? You alright?"

They blink and turn to him, a gentle smile on their lips

"yeah.....just realizing how lucky I am to have you for my Mate...."

Same smiles and hands them their cup, sitting next to them and sipping on cocoa, his core only getting warmer when they lay their head on his shoulder.

"I love you..."

"I love you too Darlin'"

______

That's it! Hope you enjoyed! Was feeling super calm and happy at the same time.

#x reader #sam collins #redacted sam #redacted asmr #darlin'#I'm in love

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veryace-ficrecs · 2 months

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Danny Phantom Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Silk and Ribbons by Marsalias - Rated T

A Holiday Truce story. In which Danny learns about some of the holiday traditions of the Ghost Zone.

Fashion Flame War by GothMoth - Rated G

Uniforms are a thing that many schools do for various reasons, Casper high’s might be a little unique but that doesn’t change the fact that uniforms are still a crime against human rights.

Our Hands Are In Their Pockets Too by GothMoth - Rated G

Phantom’s famous ghostly hide is wanted by many and some are willing to give any sum of money for said hide. Danny and Tucker fully intend to exploit the Hell out of this fact. Oddly the only ones with issues with this are Sam and… the IRS?

Pet allergy by Indrel - Rated G

After months of ghost attacks, most Amity Parkers were used to strange sights. But the student body of Casper High still paused in whatever they were doing when the day after spring break, Daniel “Danny” Fenton, youngest of the notorious ghost hunting family and famously known for being terrified of ghosts, walked into the school trailed by not one, not two, but five blob ghosts.

The Tattooed Defeat by Sergeant_Tears - Rated T

Ghosts get tattoos whenever they defeat a new enemy. Danny surprisingly never got these. Until he did... but not as Phantom.

Unclaimed by EchoGhost - Rated G

In the Ghost Zone, there are places where unclaimed ghost children congregate instinctively. Often, hopeful would-be parents use these places as makeshift adoption centers. One day, while exploring, Danny feels a tug on his core…

Smells Like Team Spirit by UnluckyAlis - Rated G

Some mascots are great at pumping up a crowd. As Casper High's mascot, Danny has only one job: strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. This is the story of how Danny becomes the famed Mascot of Fear.

Of Tweets and Twats by DarkNymfa - Rated T

Too Fine @BurgersKing @nasafan your parents don’t have a website for Fentonworks? | 🌟✨�� @nasafan have you met my parents? | Too Fine @BurgersKing fair point I will cease speaking

Fenton Identity by Mysterious_Prophetess - Rated G

Danny Fenton is living his best life as a NASA astronaut and astrophysicist—but due to his parents' infamy, he's had to use a nom de guerre to keep his achievements (and NASA's good name) from being tarred by the same brush.

This works until an enterprising journalist gets a tip and digs up the name Fenton and the skeletons that come with it.

Ancient Alexandria: Not-So-Ancient Apparently by piece_of_pierce - Rated T

Danny has a new homework assignment. Specifically, he's supposed to theorize about the ectobiology of ghosts then make a presentation about it. Who needs to theorize, though? He has access to all the research in the Zone! Now, where can he actually access that research?

Our Hands Are In Their Pockets Too by GothMoth - Rated G

#veryace recs #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost king danny #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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stealingyourbones · 2 years

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DP×DC prompt: Ghost King Danny has to stay in the ghost zone unless summoned due to various ancient ghost bureaucracy bs policies coming into effect at once; Jazz promised to summon him if her life is threatened (threatened-- not in danger, those are separate things), she works at Arkham.

(I know you wanted just characters, but at least it's only one sentence?)

Response to this post

Homie I don’t mind this works just fine! It’s vague enough that I can expand on it and it’s not a keyboard smash of typos that’s illegible so it works for me.

Danny is pissed that he’s stuck in the GZ but honestly at this point it’s completely out of his hands. Pariah Dark didn’t act as a King for thousands of years and the political structure of the Ghost Zone is in complete shambles. The Observers insist that Danny mustn’t leave the GZ until baseline treaties and building back up the old government structure happens once more.

Only issue is that these one eye fucks keep everything old school so the amount of paperwork he has to go through is truly ridiculous and is almost glued to his desk signing and writing all day.

Danny had no idea how long time has passed. It may have been weeks in the real world, it may be years. Time is strange in the ghost zone and it fluctuates wildly without any rhyme or reason. You could stay in the Zone for a year and exit to the mortal plane and figure out that only a few minutes have passed from their point of view.

Danny is reading the bill of what feels like the kazillionth piece of paperwork he has gone through today when he feels a tug at his core. Someone was summoning him. The conflicting emotions of joy and fear swirl in his stomach. The only people who he gave his summoning sigil to was his friends and his sister. He was grateful that he could finally take a break and see them again and yet the only reason he told them to summon him was if they were in significant peril.

Danny closed his eyes and let the tugging of his core carry him to the mortal plane.

Opening his eyes he sees Jazz in some form of a concrete brick office. Her hair had grown much longer than when he last saw her and she looked a lot older… how long was he in the Zone?! She’s crouched behind her desk and a majority of the furniture in the room is pressed up against the door barricading herself inside. Her eyes are darting around the room watching for any sign of movement as her hands grip a Pocket Fenton Blaster. Her hands were as steady as a surgeon as she held her gun but the rest of her body was shaking with tremors.

Just before Danny was about to ask what was going on, a large bang came from the office door that left the steel door with a fist sized dent. Someone was trying to break in.

Danny stood to his full height. He dropped his human form. A mass of arms and eyes and green electricity swirled like a fucked up undead biblical angel over Jazz. His crowns flame turned a almost glacial blue as another strike from outside caused the doors hinges to buckle and creak. Whoever was trying to break in is going to regret that choice for the rest of their afterlife.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #jazz fenton #anon #who am i kidding this is basically an outline of a fic not a prompt #didn’t reread or spell check so sorry if the writing is janky in some parts

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puppetmaster13u · 8 months

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Who wants some Gotham area Ecto-Entities?

Xir Duke Gotham (Air Core) An old city spirit once beautiful now brought to the edge of constant agony by the curses zey hunt, & is one of the older city spirits resulting in them being territorial

Marquess Bludhaven (Water Core) A winged city-spirit covered in blood who becomes bloodier with every death in the city, though who loves his vigilantes very much, like little cousins

Marchioness Arkham (Earth Core) A young adult spirit who is roughly 103 years old who acts as though the building is her dollhouse, & who appears utterly mad to mortal minds

Bill (Poison Core) A low-level criminal who was in the wrong place in the wrong time who the Joker killed one night after a failure that wasn't his fault

Mime (Light Core) A grayscale woman with black tear streaks and striped sleeves & pants who acts out her words, unsure as to how she died

Matches Malone (Fire Core) A man who gave his blessing for Bruce to use his identity so he isn’t forgotten & regrets several of his crimes that happened in life

Esme (Shadow Core) A small girl who usually prefers she goes unseen who died locked in a cupboard & likes to hide in Batman's cloak for safety

Landgrave (Portal Core) A ghost who captains the guards of Gotham’s Lazarus Pits from interference & has a grudge against Ras

Owlet (Metal Core) A young dead Talon who had begun to break the brainwashing & wants to save the other ones if they can manage

Thomas Wayne (Water) Bruce’s father who lives in Gotham’s Ghost Zone & continues to act as a doctor to everyone who needs it

Martha Wayne (Crystal) Bruce’s mother who lives in Gotham’s Ghost Zone & violently protects her son & family from the other side

Stygia (Electric Core) A former mobster who doesn’t remember who or what killed her & is searching for answers

Playwright (Fire Core) An old librarian who died when the library caught fire whose hair is still a gentle flame akin to a comfortable fireplace

Crescent (Ice Core) A teen who helps Bruce after he helped solve ver murder & where ver body was being hidden & who acts like an informant

#new ancient of darkness au #batman au #gotham #dpxdc #dcxdp #original characters #ghosts #bludhaven #arkham asylum #arkham #batman #dc #dcu #if anyone has more ideas #i am open to them #ghost core

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anamelessfool · 10 months

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I made a crackfic inspired by these GIFs

One Shot (AO3 Link)

Papa Emeritus IV & Reader

Mature for strong language, references

Stupid silly fic, destiny, concerts, the incredible cornette hat

This opportunity comes once in a lifetime....You only get one shot. You hope your calculations are correct this time.

1,819 Words If you like this fic please reblog!

One Shot

This was your last chance. After three rituals, there was nothing left. Fourth time’s a charm, you told yourself, arriving at the line by the venue at promptly 1AM. You were going to make rail no matter what. You run into your friend, Avery, who has doggedly followed you ever since witnessing your first attempt a few weeks ago. Since then you had kept running into them in the line, and at this point you had become fast friends. Today they look grim as you arrive and settle yourself into the long wait.

“Last chance, huh?” Avery blows a bubble with their gum. They have the weary voice of some kind of soldier getting ready for one last push over the top. You both hear the rattle of a raccoon scuttling around in a trash can nearby. The things you do for a dream.

You nod back. “Then they’re off to South America.”

“You are fucking nuts,” Avery says. “I don’t understand you but goddammit I respect you.”

“It’s been real, Avery.” You fistbump and wiggle your fingers, laughing.

It’s only a fifteen hour wait. You had waited longer in the past. As the line gets longer, more colorful characters appear, more people mingle. You chat, swapped social, and sing like delirious hungover partygoers at New Year’s. Thinking about the hours ticking makes you break out into a nervous sweat, but visualizing your mission steels you. Every so often, Avery locks eyes with you and calms your nerves with a friendly shoulder pat. “It’s gonna happen this time.”

You feel like some kind of action hero. Staring into the challenge ahead. “It had better fucking happen.”

The sun gets high overhead, roasting the asphalt, and still you remain. The shadows lengthen, the air cools. Finally, finally the venue staff come over to the line. Finally they pull out their scanners and open the gate.

Now or Never.

Arriving at the venue, you refresh yourself, then make a furious, single-minded march towards the front and center of the rail. Nothing will stop you this time. Not even the call of nature. You’ve picked out the ideal spot. After your three attempts you’ve figured out the perfect location. You’ve mapped the trajectory, the angles needed.

It’s a good thing Papa likes keeping to a script.

“I’m feeling really good about this,” Avery says from next to you. “You’re going to make it this time. I know it.”

“You’re psyching me out right now,” You mutter. “I can’t think. I got to get into the zone.” At last the blast of the music hits, that singular Yeaaaaaahhhhh! that makes your heart nearly explode. The curtain falls, and the pyrotechnics flare.

Every time you see him, you can’t believe he’s real. Papa Emeritus IV, resplendent in his beautiful costumes, reaching out to the audience, his thrusting hips powered by his voice. There’s screaming all around you. You have a weird inner peace as you wait for the opportune moment, a calm mindfulness reserved for samurai waiting to draw their weapon. Soon. Soon.

“BELIAL! BEHEMOTH! BEELZEBUB!” Ten thousand throats are shredded with screams. Avery gives you a friendly noogie. It’s time.

At last Papa IV appears on stage, framed by blasts of flames. His flowing garments take your breath away. His fierce winged hat lends an air of noble severity to his presence. The vision of that hat had consumed you since you saw it in Metal Hammer Magazine. It has haunted you for months, and the plan you are seconds from attempting bubbled up from the core of your being. You had never felt so sure of the concept of destiny ever before.

Papa starts swanning all over the stage, coming into range. It’s fucking time.

From your pocket you pull out your ammo. You have a single shot, but something about having a single chance for victory steels your focus even more than having two or three. You unroll a pair of frilly strawberry-print panties, clutching them into your hand. You let all the breath out of your lungs. You have the focus of a stalking cat, a striking rattlesnake.

You hook the panties on your thumb, stretch the elastic waistband, and release.

“Archangelooooooo!” Papa IV croons.

There’s a moment where you don’t even feel your heart beating anymore. You see the panties suspended in the air, so slow in front of you you could count all the strawberries. For a brief second you scream in your mind It’s not going to make it! They hit the far wing of the hat, nearly slide off, then settle, hole in one.

A perfect shot. The panties land. Perfectly. Right in the bowl of that glorious hat.

“BROOOOOOOOHMYFUCKINGODBROOOO!” Avery screams in your ear. You barely register their voice, your whole soul ascending with the feeling of victory. It’s done. You’ve done it. And it’s glorious. Tears start to well in the corners of your eyes as you watch Papa IV scuttle across the stage carrying your prize.

And then you felt the arms on your shoulders.

“Hey! Get the fuck offa them!” Avery yells, but it is too late. Three security guards drag you over the rail, kicking and screaming. Finally you stop resisting, a serene deathly calm settling on you. You’ve done your duty and now it is time to go to the ashes from which you came. Your unfinished business complete, it is time to walk towards the light.

Your consciousness witnesses when they pull your arms behind your back, forcing you forward, whisking you away. To where, you have no idea. Nor do you care. What is done is done. You think they are going to kick you completely out of the venue but no, one of the guards opens a service door to the side of the stage. The florescent lights blind you, and the silence buzzes with the ghosts of the screaming crowd in your ears. The concrete and cinderblock hallway seems to go on forever and you watch your feet plod forward, your head down. The guards’ grip on your arms and shoulders tighten.

“Wait here!’ One of them shouts, whipping open a door. There’s nothing but darkness within. And within the darkness you remain, the door slamming behind you.

***

The light rakes across your eyes, and you wince like a cave animal. You have no idea how long you have sat in that dark closet, but judging by the silence around you the concert has long been over. Your eyes water and adjust to the light, witnessing the silhouette of a guard standing in the doorway. “Come with me. He would like to see you.”

He? Your heart starts to pound. At last your adrenaline bottoms out and you start shaking, but it is too late to fully react to your actions. Two guards reach in and grab you once more, ripping you back into the hallway. “Keep your head down!” One hisses under his breath. Your hands start to sweat.

You hear the creak of another heavy door opening, and a guard pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. This place is more softly lit. As you start to bring your awareness back to your body familiar colors, shapes and textures swim before your eyes. In a far corner, items are hung on a clothing rack. A sequined blue jacket. A torn leather vest. The magnificent hat greets you from a makeup table, and you catch your pale face in the lit mirror. At the bottom of the mirror you notice the back of his head.

Papa Emeritus IV is sitting before you.

You see him. You blink. You close your eyes. But he doesn’t disappear. He is right in front of you. And you are standing in his dressing room.

Alone.

His skull-like visage overwhelms you. You have no idea what his expression is, but his cursed eye glares through you. He is sitting on a couch in the center of the room, his arm on the armrest. He had since loosened his tie and you see the smallest sliver of skin peek out from the unbuttoned top of his shirt. His body is broad, his shoulders slack from the constant exertion of performing for a crowd.

You open your mouth, but it is as if a puff of dust comes out. He sits before you impossibly, but just like in your dreams. You feel that any noise, any movement would sweep the vision away. He lets out a heavy sigh, his chest swelling. You ache in the deepest parts of your body. He slowly sweeps his legs apart and locks eyes with you again.

“Come here,” he says in his reedy voice. You do nothing. You say nothing. A deer in the headlights would look on you with concern.

He blinks, then pats his leg. “Come here,” he says again. “Sit here.” There’s a quavering quality to his voice. You’re not sure if he is embarrassed or furious. A muscle tenses in his jaw, but the melting paint on his face obscures the smallest details of his expression.

He idly rakes his hand through his deliciously graying hair, and your knees nearly buckle out from beneath you. He is reacting to you. So he must be real. You will your legs forward, planting yourself in front of him, looking down at him. His brow furrows, and his eyes surprisingly shift from side to side.

Is he…nervous?

Papa pats his knee once again. “Per favore, siediti,” he growls.

You lower your body onto his strong, supple leg. He holds your weight perfectly. You feel like you’re going to fall off backwards in a faint, so you unconciously hold onto the side of his waist. His body shifts under you.

“Well, then…” he begins. You’re not sure if he is smiling or frowning. His face is so close you can see how the makeup has drifted under the sheen of sweat.

You have enough willpower in your brain to utter a faint “Um…sorry.”

Papa utters a casual grunt. Through your hand you feel the noise vibrate his whole body. He leans forward and by consequence his chest presses into yours. The heat and dampness of his tired body envelops you, the musky smell of his sweat overwhelming your senses. Your whole soul is aflame in this single moment in which he reaches to pull something out from beside the couch.

“Here,” he says. His breath caresses your face. You look down.

In his hands is a small stuffed bear, like the kind found at carnivals. He holds it out to you. You do nothing. He makes a little frustrated “Myeh” in his throat and places it in your hands. His own gloved hands wrap around yours, patting them. He releases the prize into your possession, leaning back, satisfied.

“Here,” he repeats. You see the smallest of smiles drift across his face. “Complimenti.”

My Master Fic List

Taglist: @riptide-kid @kabukiaku @historian-crown@monkberryghouldelight @in-cardi-c-we-thrust @iichorot

#ao3 author #ghost fandom #ghost band fic #the band ghost #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #fanfic #ghost band #papa emeritus IV #papa iv & reader #sfw fanfic

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lazerswordweilder · 2 months

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What, those aren’t in the same universe- yes they are. <<<the thoughts running through my head when I made a crossover of Marvel, Star Wars, Danny Phantom (Dannys stays in Amity and never leaves though, he literally just happens to become a halfa) and DC.

(Its important to note this was written in 2024)

A fact known to Anakin and Anakin alone is that Obi-Wan was reincarnated to take part in Star Wars. He was born in the year 1849 on earth, it was the earth we exist on today, only the future differs. His name was John Kyle, an archeologist who is a retired medic from a long forgotten war but also had unofficial diplomatic and fighting training from various tight spots. Years ago John found a child lying in the desert.

Anakin however has simple been alive all those years. He was born in a desert to a human mother captured by scientists ahead of their times, the experimented on her, and he was born from it. He lay on the desert dying for years, his unwelcome powers keeping him alive and suffering, this sparked his hatred, of the desert, of the sand, of the scientists. The only thing he remembered were his mother’s dying words “Anakin, you’ll- you’ll be so great, you’ll walk the skies.” as she succumbed to her wounds after giving birth, at least he remembers his name Anakin.

Anakin grew up under John, John becoming the father he never had. By the time he was 20 the war had ended but it scarred him, he never forgot the screams. By the time he was 25 he had stopped aging, blaming the scientists and not explaining his past to John out of fear of rejection. By the time he was 34 and John was 52 John thought he had connected the dots, his apprentice had stolen an artifact they’d both been hunting for and it had carried an ancient plage or power that slowed him down from aging! One day while exploring a volcano it turned active, John saw his chance and pushed the boy in and ran.

Anakin burnt alive, his anger roaring up inside of him the same time a natural portal to the ghost zone opened up in the volcano. Anakins eyes turned fire red, the blood in his veins turned to lava, his rage burnt hotter than the lava ever could. Anakin becomes an oxymoron, even beyond the fact he’s half alive half dead, he died in lava yet his weakness is water (guy never learnt how to swim, after being held underwater and nearly drowned he never really got over it), all ghosts hate what killed them and have weaknesses to it, Anakins death is his power. He takes on an apparence which is basically what he looks like normally but with fangs, sometimes his eyes reflect light or glow though, and when he gets mad his skin heats up, turning charred and what should be exposed flesh turns into lava below the charred skin, also his hair starts to turn to flame. Anakins obsession is revenge and his core is permanently stained with rage.

By the time Anakin gets out a grip on his powers World War 1 starts drafting with the year being 1914, Anakin (despite technically being dead) immediately decides that’s a good idea for blowing off steam and also a way to get actually military experience to murder John with. He hacks a comuptor and signs himself up, putting in his photo, his medical stuff, experience, and everything else on the form, then as he stares at the name box he remembers he’s meant to be dead, he choses a fitting name, Achilles. Achilles wrath matched Anakins rage, Achilles heel matched Anakins weakness to water, and hopefully Anakin will be able to bring the name Achilles some more modern glory.

He gets his dog tag and as sits in a cart heading to war with the rest of his team, Anakin runs his finger over the ingraving in it, careful not to melt it, Achilles. As bordom sets in he remembered other stories of ancient greek, more specifically Aphrodite Areia, Areia was an epithet meaning war like and it seperated Aphrodite Areia from her more commenly known version Aphrodite. He supposes he needs one to if there are to be two great Achilles, in his head he starts referring to himself as Anakin Achilles.

After 4 years at war and another year spent wandering the contry Anakin comes back to where he knows John is just to find out he died of old age around the time the war ended at 68, despite this being quite impressive despite modern medican Anakin promptly decides to go jump into another volcano. It is like a warm bath. But it cheered Anakin up- seriously, who knew volcanos were so nice when you weren’t burning alive?

After this he grabs the blackest clothes he can find and knows will be easy to move in, some fabric which he wraps around his face from nose to chin, tucks his dog tag safely into his clothes, and walked into the nearest bar he knew had shady dealing going on. He promptly intoduced himself as an assasin looking for training and gets pointed to a table full of tough looking people.

Two years later he’s been an assasin apprentice for years, under someone he thinks is called Ra Ah Ghoul. Anakin serves the guy for another 4 years despite thinking he’s kind of an asshole, then runs away. He’s learnt enough to avoid most of Ghouls traps and makes it out with a minor stab wound, he doesn’t really have organs anymore so he’s not worried.

He does take a moment to sit on someones roof top and stare at the stars, he thinks back to his first memories and remembers with a small laugh, the one you give when you’re shocked and in awe and a little breathless but happy, he knows his full name now, his birth name, Anakin Skywalker. He thinks fondly about it and feels like a child for the first time in years, staring up the the stars with the last thing his mother gave him, his name, just for a moment Anakins rage is fully forgotten.

Suddenly he feels to small, he looks down a sees the chubby hands of a baby, he actually physically blinks at that. He can work with this, his life is over due for a bit of normal anyways, he stores his dog tag (the only thing he has attachment to) inside his rib cage using a helpful bit of intangibility and floats down to the door step. He can hear a young, kind, childless couple inside.

Anakin- now named William, danced with his wife, Julia Lotis. He was so truely smitten with her and for the first time in so long he loved the domestic life style, Julia had finally quited the rage always simmering in his core, she was his Angel. He brought Julia in for a kiss and admired her, her long chocolate hair, her warm brown eyes that seemed like cozy fires during the winter rather then his uncontrolled rage. He swung her around in a circle and reached out to catch her when her eyes went wide, he caught her lifeless- pulseless- breathless- body and stared.

He stared at her for a long time, trying to hold back the cracks in his core, but it was like reading a book when the ending was so obvious. He conculded he was going to kill everyone within the city once he got out of shock, Anakin dropped his Angel to the floor, moving to the cupboard on autopilot, he grabbed his darkest clothes and put them on, the knifes he had hidden away just in case were quickly hidden in the folds of his outfit, he pulled out his dog tag, letting it’s reasuring weight lay heavy on his chest.

He walked all the way to Gotham, he didn’t even move as it hailed and stormed, as the ground shook and trees collapses. He walked to Metropolis, it was 1975, anyone who knew anything knew the Justice League was looking for new hires, he wasn’t looking for a job but if he could get to one of the interviews then he’d be immediately be recognised as a threat and subdued.

He stormed into the daily planet building where he knew at least Superman was holding interviews, he scared everyone out of the elevator with a death glare and walked straight into the room he could hear Superman talking in, he pushed open the door “Uh, interviews are over.” Superman abruptly paused, probably taking in Anakins disheveled and disassociating self, Anakin ignored the knife that dropped to the ground “Are you- here for an interview?” Superman asked. Anakin glared at him and jumped Superman as red over took his vision.

Anakin woke up in a cell, a wary Superman stood in front of him dripping his lava “If- you could’ve just said you had fire powers.” Superman said, Anakin sagged down into the chains and Superman looked at him for a second before realisation hit him “You weren’t here to show us your powers, you’re here so we could stop you.” Superman was suddenly no longer hesitant “Sounds like a hero to me, I think we’ve got your powers down, but if you want a spot in the League I only need your name.” It doesn’t take him a second to answer “Achilles.”

By 2002 it was doomsday, for the third time this month. The hero thing certainly wasn’t boring, and various other heros had helped Anakin gain an appreciation for technology, he was a technopath. Any

This is getting way too long, also I accidentally queued it so I’ll just reblog with more.

#crossover #lazerswordweilder writes #danny phantom #dp #dpxdc #dc #marvel #Star Wars

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