DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game
Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter.
Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.
The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge.
And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).
And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game.
Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.
(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).
After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely).
Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.
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prompt: reader is a large animal vet making a house call to a certain ex-SAS member's ranch.
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It’s the first time you’ve been called out to this ranch.
You’ve been to some others in the surrounding area—just last week you stopped by a ranch just half an hour away—but never this one. It’s far out of the way, almost tough to find—you miss the turnoff twice, each time forced to turn back around and squint to find the poorly marked dirt road leading to the ranch. Your shoulders only unclench when the ranch house finally crests over the horizon and you spot the horses milling around in the fenced-off enclosure.
They must have had an in-house vet prior to calling you out. None of your colleagues remember ever visiting and the ranch is big enough to necessitate one. It sprawls across the landscape, acres upon acres. The kind of ranch that deals in thoroughbreds, horses that go on to graded stakes races. In the pen already, you can pick out Thoroughbreds and American Warmblood, the distinctive spotting of an Appaloosa, even a couple Hanoverians.
There are men working around the ranch outside of the main enclosure that you park just a dozen or so yards away from, but something about the man standing by his lonesome with the horses makes you pause.
A head taller than the rest, and built like a redwood. Bandana affixed around the lower half of his face, almost bandit-like. You shake those thoughts out of your head. You’re not here to pass judgement on people; you’re here for the horses. Whatever scars mar his face are hardly your concern (still, rugged, you think, a bit breathless even sitting in the front seat of your truck).
When he turns in your direction, eyes locked on your truck and then locked on you when you pop into the back to grab your bag, your back straightens. Imperceptibly, yet still. Compelled to measure up somehow, to whatever standard he expects.
He strikes you as the man in charge. “Mister Riley?” you call out, shielding your eyes from the sun.
He beckons you over with a gloved hand. Even from the distance, he leaves you unsure of yourself, quick to stumble when his stare starts to burn.
“Doc,” Riley greets you when you’re close enough, and you fight back a shiver. His voice rumbles like thunder, like hooves pounding into the freshly tamped earth, into the dirt.
“You called about a pregnant mare,” you remind him.
The bag in front of your legs puts a bit of distance between the two of you, a needed buffer. Up close, he towers like sequoia, in fact, sleeves rolled up past his forearms, old tattoos on his left arm faded like beaten leather. He holds out a hand though, forcing you to take a step forward out of politeness and shake it. Your lips tighten at the touch of his skin. It’s weathered too, coarse palms and fingertips; there’s dirt caked around his nail beds, the kind that never comes out, the world’s indelible mark on the skin.
He stares at you for a moment without speaking. There’s no helping the way you squirm under his gaze.
“The horse,” you remind him, cheeks hot.
“She’s in the stables; I’ll bring ya to her.”
You struggle to keep up with him, bag bumping against your leg as you haul ass after him. Big as he is, he moves quickly, fast on his feet—used to quick beasts, you know, probably used to anticipating their movements, always one step ahead. Your last shred of decency keeps you from staring at his ass the entire walk to the stables.
Her coat is a rich coal colour, mane sun-bleached. Inky eyes peer back at you when Riley lets you into her stall. It’s cooler inside somehow, out of the inescapable glare of the sun; the sweat on the back of your neck stays wet under Riley’s eyes though, nervous rather than weather-born.
She’s gorgeous though, the mare. Pretty as can be. Heavily pregnant too, you can see. Obviously well taken care of too, still decently muscled like she’s still been taken for walks and rides during her pregnancy.
“She’s too far along now to ride,” he tells you when you remark on that, his voice carrying in the confined space. He doesn’t raise his voice, but it makes you perk up again, at attention, head whipping over your shoulder to look at him.
“I can tell. A little over two months ‘till she delivers,” you say with a nod, looking down at the chart you have on her. “I can come back for her last deworming before she foals, if you want.”
He grunts, doesn’t answer. You take it as an affirmative.
It doesn’t take you long to run through her check-up. A docile girl, you coo when she lets you touch her without any sign of aggression, sweet-tempered thing. It’s second nature after all, at this point in your life.
Still, you find yourself watching Riley out of the corner of your eye, careful under his watchful gaze. Not that you usually aren’t, but still. Your movements feel intentional, precise.
When he walks you out, you get a bit bolder in the sunlight. Freer to pester him with questions.
“Did your last vet retire or something?” you ask, fishing for information. It’s probably none of your business, but you find yourself curious anyway. There are a few different vet practices operating in the area, so it’s always helpful to know who’s going to your competitors.
He shakes his head. “Friend of mine went to school for this—been with me as long as I’ve had the ranch. He got hitched a couple weeks ago though.”
“Moving away?” you guess.
“Opening up a practice,” he corrects, making you frown. That’s worse, at least for you. “On his honeymoon this month though, so he gave me your name.”
“My boss’ name, you mean.”
“That’s right,” he says, and you realize that he’s walked you all the way to your car, half-pinning you to the door of your truck. Just close enough that a new layer of sweat breaks out on the back of your neck. You have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. “Don’t know if I caught yours, little filly.”
Now that makes you stutter over your name, confidence finally failing you. When he hums like he’s caught your name in his head now, mapped it to you with his sharp eyes, you feel yourself swallow reflexively.
“Not like you’ll need it for long,” you tease, trying to gain back some semblance of control. “Just until your friend gets back and sets up his practice, at least.”
“Not sure about that. Might find some use for you yet,” Riley says, close enough now that you can tell he smells of hay and silage, peppery when you breathe in too heavily.
And you breathe too heavily. Hard not to when he crowds you up against the truck, hand laying flat on the roof, boxing you in. You wonder if any of the ranch hands are looking over at the two of you, curious.
“What do you mean?” you ask, head empty. Mouth dry enough now that it hurts a bit to swallow.
His brown eyes glint in the sun. Honey gold under the light. “I can think of a few reasons to keep you around.”
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ateez as incubi
seonghwa ~ in your sleep, you had the most vivid and pleasurable dream of your life. you had a mysterious man between your legs, face buried in your pussy, clit between his lips. upon waking up, the fantasy didn’t end. you stirred hazily, moaning at the imagined sensation in your clit. it became a little too vivid, however, when you felt a long tongue slither inside of you. you looked down, seeing that the man was real, and he was still working your pussy dutifully. you knew you should have felt scared, but somehow the only thing you said was, “don’t stop.” this caused the man to chuckle against you. “don’t you worry, doll,” he said, “you’re so delicious, i’ll never get enough.”
hongjoong ~ when you awoke from your restless sleep, you had tears running down your cheeks. there was a sheen of sweat across your body and a dull throbbing between you legs. at first everything was hazy and confusing, but then you heard your demon’s voice break the silence of the night and it all came together. “what’s wrong, little baby?” he mocked from your bedside where he pervertedly observed your plight. “do you need me so bad? these fingers, this dick? tell me how much you need me.”
yunho ~ you woke up to your walls being stretched open by something ice cold. you realized it didn’t hurt because you were already soaking wet somehow. then you realized the handsome man slowly materializing on top of you, eyes locked on yours, hips sliding carefully closer. you groaned as he filled you up entirely, hands moving with a mind of their own as they reached to hold onto the man’s shoulders. “it’s so big,” you moaned. the man smirked, hips beginning to fuck in and out of you. “you know, i can make it even bigger, if you think this little pussy can handle it.”
yeosang ~ you were grinding against your mattress, a rhythmic flow of moans and whimpers echoing in your room as you dreamt of yeosang. in your dream, he was all over you - tongue down your throat, face in your pussy, and dick pounding into your soaking heat. “there you go,” dream yeosang whispered, “make yourself feel good, my darling.” your eyes slowly opened and for a moment you were utterly disappointed about losing your dream. that was, until you realized yeosang was lying right beside you, urging you on further, “don’t stop, baby, i want to see you make yourself cum.”
san ~ you opened your eyes when you heard a familiar voice filling your bedroom with sweet, soothing melodies. “sannie?” you called, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled cheerfully. you smiled in return, but groaned when you felt a throbbing ache in your clit. “it hurts again,” you said. that pain always seemed to return when san stopped by to visit. “i know, angel,” he cooed, placing his icy cold hands on your thighs and rubbing them gently. “do you need sannie to take care of it for you?”
mingi ~ “get up,” a deep voice commanded, awaking you from your dreams. you shot up and scanned your bedroom for intruders. sure enough, he was there staring down at you, and he was mad. “mingi?” you said softly. “what’s wro-” he cut you off: “where have you been for the last week?” your heart sank. he was really mad. it struck no fear in you, just stirred up butterflies in your stomach. “i-i was on vacation, i’m sorry i forgot to tell you.” mingi scoffed. “vacation… you’ve been naughty for the last time, do you understand?” you couldn’t hold your smile back, thrilled for what mingi might have in store for your punishment.
wooyoung ~ the last thing you expected to see when you first opened your eyes was a dick inches from your face. but that’s what you got, and you weren’t complaining. “suck it,” wooyoung demanded. having just woken up, you were a little slow to register what was going on. getting impatient, wooyoung reached out to stroke your jaw, thumb landing on your chin and gently pushing your mouth open. “i said suck it for me, baby.”
jongho ~ you awoke when you heard someone calling your name in a singsong voice. you looked around your room expecting to see him there, but he wasn’t. “jongho?” you whispered. suddenly, there was a strong hand wrapped around your throat, pressing gently on your airway. you grabbed his wrist, and then he became visible. jongho was floating just above your mattress, staring intensely into your wide eyes. he lowered himself so he was straddling you and strengthened his grip around your neck. “please,” he scoffed, “don’t look so scared. i can smell how wet you are from here.”
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