Hello! Here is chapter 6! There is a R-18 scene in the first third of this chapter.
Chapter 6 (~12k words):
– Amara –
I sat completely naked upon the plush velvet couch. My thighs were gently crossed, but the position hardly concealed anything.
Morgana's body wrapped around me from behind. Her clothed generous breasts pressed against my bare back. Her arm wrapped possessively around me. I struggled slightly to maintain my composure as her other hand slowly, teasingly stroked and fondled my breast, her thumb occasionally flicking over my hardened nipple, sending shocks of pleasure straight to my core.
Directly across from us sat Daphne and Astoria, perched nervously on the edge of their own seats, their pretty faces flushed bright red. They were desperately attempting to focus on what I was explaining, yet their gazes kept drifting down helplessly to my exposed breasts and pussy every time I shifted position, their eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and barely restrained arousal.
"So," I continued, doing my very best to sound composed despite the sensations Morgana was expertly eliciting from me, "after Morgana and I infiltrated the Court of Owls meeting, disguised as the two of you—ah!—we discovered that it was Madame Powers who had orchestrated tonight's attack. She demanded the Greengrass family be removed from the Court and exterminated."
I paused, biting my lower lip as Morgana's fingers slowly circled my nipple, tweaking and teasing until I couldn't help but softly moan in front of the Greengrass sisters.
"Are you alright, Amara?" Daphne asked hesitantly, her blush deepening beautifully, though she clearly couldn't bring herself to avert her gaze entirely from my nude form.
"Perfectly fine," I replied breathily, smiling playfully at Daphne. Morgana chuckled quietly behind me, clearly enjoying my struggle to remain coherent beneath her teasing caresses. Her fingertips resumed their slow, deliberate exploration of my breast, gently pinching and rolling my nipple between her skilled fingers until my hips squirmed helplessly atop the couch. "Just a bit distracted, that's all. Morgana is being a terrible tease…"
Astoria openly stared at Morgana's hand as it gently fondled me, her eyes wide and fascinated, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment. Yet she clearly couldn't tear herself away, she was leaning forward slightly to get a better look. I caught a subtle, unconscious shift of Astoria's hips.
Clearing my throat gently, I forced myself to continue my explanation. "Anyway, after we removed our disguises, the Court leader made us pass a sort of…combat trial. Each of us faced twelve undead assassins, called Talons. Morgana easily defeated hers. I struggled a bit—mmph—my clothing didn't survive. Hence…" I gestured vaguely downward to my naked body, my voice slightly shaky with arousal as Morgana's teasing touch continued. "Hence why I'm currently completely nude."
Daphne's gaze slowly roamed over my figure, drinking in every curve, lingering appreciatively on my bare pussy before hastily returning upward to meet my gaze. I felt my succubus nature purring in satisfaction beneath her heated stare.
Astoria, meanwhile, seemed too entranced by Morgana's openly erotic display to bother with subtlety. Her tongue darted out nervously, wetting her plump lips as she breathed shakily.
"So, ah," Daphne finally stammered softly, clearly trying to regain some semblance of composure despite her obvious arousal, "it was the Powers family who wanted us dead? That's what you both found out?"
"Yes," I confirmed with a small, sympathetic nod. "That lady was the one who openly accused you two of "endangering the Court." She seemed personally pissed off with your family."
"But… who exactly are the Powers family? Why in Merlin's name would they want to kill Daphne and me?" Astoria asked in confusion.
I opened my mouth to reply, but just as I began speaking, Morgana's fingers abruptly squeezed my nipple firmly, sending a sharp jolt of sensation through my sensitive breast. I gasped aloud, body shuddering in helpless pleasure as the teasing witch continued fondling me openly, boldly, before our clearly captivated audience. "I-I don't actually know…" I finally managed to gasp breathlessly, giving Morgana a playful, half-hearted glare as she smiled innocently behind me. "Perhaps Daphne knows more."
Daphne nodded quietly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, clearly doing her utmost not to openly show her growing arousal. "The Powers family own some of the most luxurious, famous hotels in the Muggle world. They're extraordinarily wealthy and influential among non-magicals." She paused briefly, chewing nervously on her lower lip as embarrassment flashed briefly across her face. "You see, hotels aren't really a common thing in the magical world. We mostly rely on traditional inns—and the Greengrass family has a near-monopoly over wizarding inns and lodgings across Britain and Europe. I suspect Madame Powers wants us eliminated as competition, to expand their business into the magical world."
Astoria frowned thoughtfully, nodding slowly as she processed Daphne's explanation. Yet even as she attempted to seriously consider her sister's words, Astoria's gaze inevitably drifted downward again.
I let out another soft, involuntary moan as Morgana's expert fingers continued tormenting my sensitive nipples. Her breath was warm and teasing against my ear as she chuckled softly, clearly savoring every moment of my struggle to remain composed in front of our beautiful guests.
"M-Morgana…" I finally whimpered softly, turning my head slightly to gaze pleadingly into my mentor's emerald eyes. "You're being terribly possessive right now."
"Ah, my sweet apprentice," Morgana purred huskily. "Just consider this part of your training… in the subtle art of seduction," she purred seductively. "Well, don't worry, my lovely Greengrass sisters. Now that you've agreed to join our little growing coven, we'll ensure your rivals deeply regret ever daring to cross you…"
Both Daphne and Astoria looked stunned by Morgana's confident words. I caught the faintest flicker of hope sparking within their eyes, mingled intimately with barely contained arousal as they gazed once more upon my helplessly moaning naked form beneath Morgana's sensual torment.
And despite the embarrassment of being completely exposed and fondled openly in front of these beautiful sisters, I felt an undeniable thrill ripple sharply through my core. Morgana had promised earlier tonight that we would thoroughly enjoy ourselves with the Greengrass sisters, taking full advantage of their gratefulness.
– Morgana –
Morgana watched the young Greengrass sisters carefully as she allowed a gentle smile to grace her lips. Morgana could see clearly in the sisters' flushed cheeks and lust-glazed eyes just how desperately they craved her and Amara's touch…
And yet…
"That will be all for tonight, Daphne, Astoria," Morgana said gently, her voice leaving no room for question. "You may return to your rooms and rest."
Surprise flashed briefly across the sisters' faces, followed closely by unmistakable disappointment. Daphne opened her mouth as if to protest, but quickly closed it again, perhaps realizing the futility of arguing with Morgana's firm command.
"Yes, Lady Morgana," Daphne murmured respectfully, rising slowly to her feet, her cheeks still painted with an alluring blush as she cast a longing glance toward Amara's still-naked figure. Astoria followed suit, biting her lower lip nervously, her eyes wide with barely restrained longing. The two witches hesitated briefly, exchanging a final, lingering look with Amara, before finally bowing their heads and slipping quietly from the room.
As the door softly clicked shut behind the Greengrass sisters, Morgana could practically feel Amara's questioning gaze upon her. A soft, amused chuckle escaped Morgana's lips as she slowly turned her full attention toward the stunning young succubus seated naked on her lap.
"My dear apprentice," Morgana purred gently. "You're wondering why I sent those witches away, aren't you?"
Amara blushed deeply, nodding shyly as her emerald gaze lowered briefly. "Yes," she admitted softly, peeking up through dark lashes, "I thought… Well, you promised earlier that we would enjoy ourselves fully with them tonight."
"Oh, my sweet Amara," Morgana whispered, voice low and deeply sensual, her emerald eyes burning with unmistakable possessiveness and desire. "I haven't forgotten my promise. Believe me, we shall certainly enjoy those sisters very soon."
"Then…why send them away tonight?" Amara asked breathlessly.
Morgana's eyes softened gently. "Because tonight," she whispered gently, her thumb tenderly brushing along the succubus's lower lip, "I found myself feeling something I never expected—a hint of jealousy."
Amara's emerald eyes widened slightly in adorable confusion, clearly stunned by Morgana's honest admission. "Jealousy?" she repeated uncertainly. "You?"
Morgana nodded softly, smiling affectionately. "Yes, jealousy," she admitted again with gentle sincerity, her voice silky and vulnerable. "When that demoness Mazikeen appeared, shamelessly flirting with you again, I realized quite vividly that… your first experience of real, passionate sex… should belong solely to me!"
A deep flush immediately spread across Amara's cheeks, her breath hitching audibly in her throat as her eyes gazed up at Morgana, filled with anticipation.
Morgana leaned her head in slowly, allowing her lips to graze softly against her apprentice's ear, whispering warmly, seductively, "I have touched your beautiful body many times now, my sweet Amara. I've tasted you, pleasured you, driven you to incredible climaxes… but I have yet to truly make love to you. Tonight, that will change…"
Morgana slowly drew her head back, pushing Amara off her lap. Placing her body on the cushion next to her. Amara was breathing heavily but also looked a bit confused.
Morgana rose from the couch. She reached for the delicate clasp of her gown, feeling a rush of excitement dance deliciously down her spine. With a single fluid motion, she slipped the dress from her body, allowing it to pool at her feet, leaving Morgana completely naked in front of Amara for the first time.
Amara stared openly, speechless, her eyes immediately roaming every inch of Morgana's flawless body.
Morgana could practically see the desire igniting within Amara's eyes as they traced over her full, heavy breasts, down the soft curve of her waist and the alluring roundness of her hips and thighs, then settling on her pussy that was already glistening faintly with arousal.
"Do you like what you see, my dear apprentice?" Morgana whispered warmly, smiling tenderly down into Amara's flushed face.
"Yes…" Amara breathed softly. "You're absolutely breathtaking."
Morgana smiled gently, leaning down to tenderly capture Amara's lips in a soft, loving kiss. When she pulled her lips back, slowly breaking their heated kiss, Morgana pulled back just enough to gaze lovingly into her apprentice's beautiful emerald eyes. "Come, my darling," she murmured softly, gently guiding Amara to stand with her. "Let us retire to OUR bedchamber. I intend to savor every exquisite inch of your body tonight, to claim fully what rightfully belongs to me alone."
Amara nodded breathlessly, cheeks glowing radiantly with anticipation. Morgana smiled lovingly, taking her apprentice's hand gently within her own. She led Amara toward what, she hoped, from now on would be their shared quarters.
…Morgana sighed contentedly as she settled onto her large, luxurious bed, reclining gracefully against the plush pillows behind her. She was completely bare, her nude body proudly on display as she comfortably spread her long, shapely legs, openly exposing herself fully for Amara.
Unlike Amara, Morgana was raised in an entirely different era. A time where women weren't always shaved bare. Although of course, Morgana didn't allow hair to grow anywhere else on her body than on her head or between her legs. Her dark pubic hair grew naturally and lushly between her thighs, framing the delicate, flushed folds of her pussy, which already glistened faintly with anticipation and excitement.
She could sense Amara's curious eagerness as her apprentice moved hesitantly forward onto the bed, crawling slowly between Morgana's parted thighs. Morgana smiled encouragingly down at the stunning young succubus.
Amara paused briefly, gently biting her lower lip, cheeks flushing beautifully pink as she admired Morgana's exposed sex.
"Don't be shy." Morgana reached down, gently stroking Amara's silky black hair, silently encouraging her beloved apprentice onward.
"I'm going to do my best, Morgana." Finally, with a deep, nervous breath, Amara lowered her face gently between Morgana's thighs, the soft warmth of her breath sending a pleasurable shiver along Morgana's spine. The moment Amara's delicate mouth made contact, Morgana gasped softly, feeling an electric thrill ripple through her entire body.
Amara's nose buried itself intimately into the softness of Morgana's pubic hair, her cheeks pressed warmly against Morgana's inner thighs as she slowly, experimentally, began licking tenderly at Morgana's sensitive pussy. Her tongue was warm, soft, and surprisingly confident as it slowly explored Morgana's lower lips, tracing delicate patterns along the slick, sensitive folds.
"Ohh…yes…just like that, Amara," Morgana whispered encouragingly, her voice thick with genuine pleasure. "You're doing wonderfully, Amara," Morgana praised breathily, her hips shifting instinctively upward. "It feels absolutely incredible…"
Amara lifted her face briefly as her lips glistened faintly with Morgana's juices as she softly admitted, "Thank you, Morgana, but…I'm nervous. It's my first time licking pussy. I wasn't sure if I'd be good…"
Morgana smiled warmly down at her adorable apprentice. She reached down, gently stroking Amara's flushed cheek. "You're doing beautifully, Amara. You're already a natural—just as I'd expect from a succubus like yourself. Trust your inborn racial instincts, my apprentice."
Amara visibly brightened at Morgana's praise, clearly eager to please her mentor. With renewed enthusiasm, she quickly lowered her face again, pressing herself more firmly against Morgana's welcoming pussy as she resumed licking more confidently, her tongue slipping lovingly between Morgana's slick folds, swirling tenderly around her clit.
"Oh, that's good—Amara!" Morgana cried out softly, shivering helplessly beneath her apprentice's devoted, passionate attention. She felt herself growing rapidly wetter, pleasure building steadily within her core with each skilled stroke of Amara's tongue. Morgana's breathing grew ragged, her curvy body quivering deliciously as intense sensation surged through her nerves.
Amara continued eagerly, her soft lips sealing warmly around Morgana's swollen clit as her tongue skillfully flicked and teased, clearly savoring every moment, every taste. Morgana's thighs quivered, hips shifting uncontrollably, seeking more of the incredible pleasure Amara was lovingly providing.
"Just like that, my beautiful apprentice," Morgana moaned breathlessly, fingers threading gently into Amara's silky hair, lovingly guiding her apprentice's movements. "You're perfect…keep going…
"I'm going to try something else," Amara told her with a slight pause.
Morgana gasped sharply, her entire body jolting in delighted surprise as she felt the impossible happen—Amara's tongue slid deeply, effortlessly into her pussy, far deeper than any human tongue had the right to reach! Her breath hitching audibly as the sensation overwhelmed her senses.
"Oh, Goddess—yes!" Morgana cried out helplessly, hips arching upward to meet her apprentice's gifted tongue. "Your tongue—it feels divine, Amara! So good!"
Morgana's fingers tightened instinctively in Amara's silky black hair, her heartbeat quickening to a wild tempo as another wave of pleasure rushed through her body. As Amara's impossibly deep tongue slowly withdrew and thrust back into her tight pussy, Morgana realized with awe that her lovely apprentice had discovered a new succubus ability.
Glancing down over the generous swell of her own heavy, heaving breasts, Morgana met Amara's mischievously sparkling green eyes gazing back at her from between her spread thighs. Amara was clearly enjoying the look of astonishment on Morgana's face. Amara maintained eye contact, demonstrating just how thoroughly she enjoyed driving Morgana wild with pleasure as her elongated succubus tongue continued deeply fucking her mentor's soaking-wet pussy.
Morgana's breathing grew ragged, her curvaceous body squirming uncontrollably atop the luxurious bed sheets. She was completely at Amara's mercy, helplessly captivated by the newfound skill her apprentice had unleashed.
Then, as if Amara's incredibly talented tongue wasn't enough, Morgana felt Amara's slender hand gently settle atop her lower belly, directly above her womb, pressing softly but firmly into Morgan's skin.
Before Morgana could even guess at Amara's intentions, an astonishing rush of potent pleasure surged upward from that gentle touch, coursing rapidly through Morgana's toes.
"Holy—Mmmm!" she gasped aloud!
Amara had begun channeling an intensely pleasurable form of sex magic—a spell Morgana herself had never taught her apprentice! Although, she certainly should have!
"Ohhh, fuck—Amara!" Morgana shrieked, her elegant composure utterly shattered as her exquisite body writhed beneath the powerful surge of heightened sensitivity. The room seemed to spin dizzily around her as each stroke of her apprentice's remarkable tongue became an ecstatic torment, infinitely more pleasurable and overwhelming than before.
Her muscles tensed sharply, back arching from the bed in an elegant curve, as Morgana felt herself rapidly hurtling toward a climax unlike anything she had ever previously experienced. Amara's tongue slid deeper still, filling Morgana completely, hitting impossibly sensitive places inside her that no lover had ever touched before.
"Amara—I—I'm going to—" Morgana's voice broke in a desperate scream of ecstasy as her orgasm crashed over her like an unstoppable tidal wave.
Her pussy spasmed uncontrollably around Amara's still-thrusting tongue, an eruption of pleasure that left Morgana helplessly shuddering. Then, to her astonished embarrassment and delight, Morgana felt herself squirting intensely for the first time in centuries—warm jets of her essence soaking Amara's beautiful face and mouth, dripping down her chin and breasts!
Amara continued eagerly, tongue greedily drinking in Morgana's juices even as Morgana quivered violently, gasping and shaking beneath the exquisite intensity of her apprentice's loving attention. Eventually, Amara slowly withdrew her elongated tongue from Morgana's throbbing, spent pussy, a teasing smirk curling her lips as she softly kissed Morgana's inner thighs, licking Morgana's juices from her chin and lips.
As Morgana slowly regained her breath, she felt an amused yet affectionate irritation at her own surprise. Somehow, despite all her experience, her centuries of power, her beautiful young apprentice had found a way to shock her, to teach her something entirely new about pleasure!
Amara crawled slowly upward over Morgana's flushed form, smiling shyly yet confidently, emerald eyes glimmering with satisfaction. "Did you enjoy that, Mistress?" Amara purred teasingly, clearly knowing the answer already.
Morgana smiled warmly as she cupped her apprentice's flushed cheek, pulling Amara's lips down to her own in a tender, lingering kiss. She could taste her own release on Amara's lips, but didn't mind one bit.
When their lips finally parted, Morgana sighed softly, contentedly, admitting gently, "You, my sweet apprentice, never cease to amaze me..."
'But—she certainly couldn't let her adorable apprentice grow overly confident too soon,' Morgana thought amusedly.
Morgana gently caressed Amara's flushed cheek before gripping her apprentice's shoulders and suddenly flipping her onto her back upon the bed. Amara yelped playfully in surprise as Morgana's lithe, naked body smoothly settled atop hers.
"Not so fast, my dear apprentice," Morgana purred teasingly as she pressed closer, pinning the succubus gently yet firmly beneath her.
Amara smiled shyly upward, a beautiful blush deepening her cheeks. Her long, silky black hair spread elegantly around her head like a dark halo, framing features Morgana knew well—after all, they were a perfect reflection of her own.
Identical, yet delightfully innocent and youthful.
No matter how many times Morgana gazed upon Amara's nude form, she never tired of the exquisite sight. The younger woman's breasts rose and fell gently with each breath, full and heavy, topped by those pink nipples hardened eagerly by arousal and excitement. Her stomach was smooth and toned, flowing sensually down toward wide, inviting hips and those absolutely stunning thighs that seemed designed specifically to wrap lovingly around Morgana's waist.
Morgana slowly moved her slender hands along those trembling thighs, carefully spreading them apart and positioning Amara exactly how she wanted her.
"Get ready~" Morgana gently pushed one of Amara's legs further aside, opening her even wider to accommodate their new position.
Then Morgana eased herself downward, settling her hips gracefully between Amara's parted thighs. A soft, delighted gasp escaped Morgana's lips at the exquisite sensation of their heated, wet pussies finally meeting intimately for the first time.
The contact was electric—Morgana felt a wave of intense pleasure and magic surge through her entire being. Her own pussy, covered with soft black curls grown naturally over centuries, pressed sensuously against Amara's smooth, perfectly hairless sex. Morgana couldn't help but appreciate how beautifully their differences complemented one another—the contrast was utterly erotic and deeply satisfying.
As Morgana began slowly rocking her hips, gently grinding their warm, slick pussies together, a low, helpless moan spilled from Amara's parted lips. Her apprentice's eyes widened beautifully in surprise and arousal, her hips instinctively pressing upward into Morgana's movements, matching her rhythm eagerly.
"Oh—Morgana… this feels incredible," Amara whimpered breathlessly, hands clutching softly at Morgana's waist, holding her close as she began rocking in tandem, savoring the intimacy and pleasure of the moment.
Morgana chuckled warmly, leaning forward to lovingly capture Amara's lips in a deep, passionate kiss, their tongues dancing tenderly together as Morgana maintained the deliciously erotic movement of their hips. Her breasts brushed teasingly against Amara's own ample curves, each thrust gently bouncing both pairs together.
"Did you think you'd taken control from me so easily, my dear apprentice?" Morgana murmured seductively as she pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily. Her eyes were filled with pure lust. "I have been pleasuring lovers since long before you were born. You still have much to learn."
Amara's usually pale face flushed deeply as she gazed up adoringly at Morgana. "Then teach me, Mistress," she whispered softly.
Morgana smiled lovingly down at her beautiful apprentice as her pleasure rapidly intensified. Morgana increased her pace, each rhythmic thrust of their hips growing firmer, hotter, more intimate as the wet, slick sounds filled the bedchamber.
Their magic seemed to blend effortlessly, amplifying each sensation tenfold. Morgana had recognized from the very first moment they met just how perfectly compatible their magical essences were—two powerful witches bound by fate, desire, and destiny. Now, as their slick folds moved sensuously together, that compatibility surged wildly through her, heightening every touch, every shared breath.
Amara's breasts continued bouncing softly beneath Morgana's passionate movements, her expression shifting into one of pure, helpless ecstasy as the succubus cried out Morgana's name again and again, clearly lost completely within the erotic sensations. Morgana reveled in every delighted sound, in the sight of Amara so utterly at her mercy and vulnerable to her every whim.
Morgana felt herself quickly nearing another powerful climax, her muscles tightening deliciously, her pussy growing hotter, wetter, desperate for release. She held Amara's gaze passionately, communicating silently the depth of love, desire, and possessiveness she felt for her beautiful apprentice.
"You're mine, Amara," Morgana whispered fiercely, her voice shaking slightly with intensity as she ground their pussies even more firmly together, building rapidly toward the peak of her pleasure. "Tonight, and always. You may take more lovers—it's in your nature after all—but you'll always come back to me, won't you?"
"Forever, Morgana!" Amara gasped helplessly beneath her. "Always yours!"
Morgana smiled down lustfully at the beautiful succubus beneath her, savoring every gasp and breathless moan Amara offered in response to each rhythmic thrust of her hips. She could feel the slick heat between them, the sweet friction of their dripping pussies sliding intimately together, heightening her own pleasure beyond anything she had felt before.
Amara's emerald eyes gazed up at her, wide and glistening with tears of pure pleasure, her luscious lips parted as she whimpered Morgana's name with adoration.
The large bed beneath them creaked rhythmically.
"You're so beautiful," Amara whispered breathlessly, her voice shaking slightly from the sheer intensity of the sensations Morgana was expertly delivering. Her eyes brimmed with joyful tears, her gaze filled with pure devotion. "Morgana…I'm so glad you found me that day, down in the vault."
Morgana laughed softly, affectionately, gently brushing away a stray tear from Amara's flushed cheek with her thumb. Her own breathing was heavy now, ragged with rapidly mounting pleasure. "Hah, my darling apprentice," she purred warmly, her hips moving in firm, passionate thrusts that drew another ragged moan from Amara's throat. "If anything, it was you who found me."
She felt the slick, exquisite heat of Amara's pussy pressing firmly against her own, their swollen clits brushing tantalizingly together with each thrust, sending powerful jolts of electric sensation through Morgana's body. Her own thighs trembled slightly, pleasure coiling deliciously within her core.
The sensations of Amara's body beneath her—her warmth, her slickness, her sweet moans—sent Morgana soaring towards an inevitable climax. Morgana's eyes locked onto Amara's face, savoring the expression of utter surrender, of pure ecstasy etched beautifully across the younger woman's delicate features. Morgana felt herself, deliciously overwhelmed by pleasure, realizing vaguely that she was drooling slightly, so utterly consumed by her desire.
She felt herself approaching the precipice rapidly, her hips moving urgently, rhythmically, as the pressure built steadily within her core. "Amara," Morgana gasped huskily, voice thick with lustful need, "I want you to cum with me. Right now."
"Yes, Morgana—Mistress—!" Amara cried out loudly beneath her, her body arching beautifully upward from the bed. Her voice rose sharply, almost desperately, as the younger witch surrendered entirely to the pleasure Morgana gave her. "I—I'm going to cum so fucking hard, Mistress!"
Morgana smiled triumphantly, feeling the first wave of her orgasm crashing gloriously through her body even as Amara's own release tore violently through her beautiful apprentice. Their bodies shuddered together, writhing passionately upon the luxurious bed, their slick pussies spasming and throbbing deliciously against one another in perfect, synchronized bliss.
"Fuck! I'm cumming~" Morgana cried out softly, her voice mingling with Amara's loud, ecstatic moans, as the intensity of their shared orgasm completely overwhelmed them both.
For several endless moments, they remained locked in this exquisite embrace, their shared pleasure washing through them in wave after powerful wave, until at last their bodies slowly came to rest against each other, panting heavily and utterly spent.
Morgana gazed affectionately down into her apprentice's beautiful face, brushing a few damp strands of dark hair lovingly away from Amara's flushed cheek. Her emerald eyes glowed warmly, filled with affection and deep satisfaction.
"That," Morgana murmured breathlessly, gently pressing a tender, lingering kiss to Amara's soft lips, "was absolutely perfect, my sweet apprentice. You are truly extraordinary."
"It felt so good…" Amara smiled softly. "I want to go longer, but I'm pretty tired after the day we had."
"Rest now, Amara," Morgana whispered gently, gathering her beloved apprentice into her arms. "Tomorrow, we have vengeance to seek and plans to make. But tonight, simply rest and know you belong fully and irrevocably to me."
Amara sighed softly, contentedly, as she nestled closer, her eyes drifting shut peacefully in Morgana's embrace. Morgana smiled tenderly, her own eyes slowly closing as well, feeling deeply satisfied.
– Amara –
…Warm sunlight gently filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, caressing my skin and slowly pulling me from a deep, blissful sleep. My body felt relaxed and wonderfully sensitive, still tingling pleasantly from the events of the previous night. I smiled softly as I opened my eyes, immediately met by the sight of Morgana's beautiful face beside mine. She was already awake.
"Good morning, my apprentice," Morgana whispered softly, smiling tenderly as she reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from my cheek.
"Morning," I murmured sleepily, feeling a blush spread across my cheeks as memories of last night flooded through me once again. I shifted slightly, enjoying the pleasant sensation of our naked bodies still pressed intimately close beneath the silken sheets. Morgana's arm remained possessively wrapped around me, holding me firmly against her soft, curvy form. "Did you sleep well?"
She chuckled softly, fingertips softly tracing along my jawline, affectionately exploring my features. "Better than I have in centuries, my sweet Amara," Morgana confessed softly, her voice rich with gentle sincerity. "Having you beside me made all the difference."
Carefully propping myself up on one elbow, I gazed lovingly down into Morgana's flawless face. "Last night was absolutely amazing," I admitted shyly, my cheeks flushing bright pink. "I had no idea it could feel so good. You made my first time... unforgettable."
Morgana reached up gently, stroking her thumb tenderly across my lower lip. "Good," she purred teasingly, her gaze playful and seductive. "I'd hate for your very first experience of real sex to have been disappointing. I'm pleased to have exceeded your expectations."
I bit my lower lip, feeling suddenly bolder. "Oh, it certainly wasn't disappointing. Not at all," I reassured her quickly, giving Morgana a playful wink. "Though, maybe next time, we could experiment a little more. Perhaps try out some... toys?"
"Mmm, you naughty little succubus," she purred affectionately, eyes filled with playful approval. "I see your true nature is rapidly revealing itself. But yes, I think that can certainly be arranged."
I hesitated, gently biting my lower lip. "The only thing missing last night was deeper penetration," I admitted softly, cheeks flushing a bit brighter. "You never really went deep inside me..."
She lifted her hand, tracing her fingertip affectionately along my flushed cheek. "Oh, Amara," she murmured. "You know precisely why that is. We need to preserve your virginity for now. When the conditions are exactly right to make full magical use for the perfect ritual."
"But when will that be?" I asked, feeling slightly frustrated by the vague, mysterious promise. "How long will we have to wait?"
"All will become clear soon enough. Trust your mistress." she replied cryptically.
I sighed again, but this time a small smile crept onto my lips. If Morgana was keeping the details secret, it must truly be for an important reason. I decided to trust her, at least for now, allowing my curiosity to fade momentarily.
She shifted again, propping herself up slightly as she regarded me with sudden excitement gleaming in her beautiful emerald eyes. "But there is something special we can do today—something I know you've been eagerly anticipating."
"Oh?" I perked up immediately, curiosity piqued as my excitement stirred. "What is it?"
"Today, we shall finally craft your wand," Morgana revealed proudly, eyes glowing warmly as she gazed at me. "I know you've been waiting patiently for this."
Excitement surged instantly through me, the prospect of finally owning my very own wand making my heart race with anticipation. "Really? We can finally make my wand today?" I asked eagerly, eyes wide with excitement.
"I've prepared everything needed. Remember how I was away yesterday morning, busy with my errands?"
"Oh, so that's what you were doing! You were gathering all the supplies we'll need?"
Morgana nodded slowly. "Exactly. You're becoming so powerful, Amara. It's time you had a wand truly worthy of your magic—something uniquely crafted, imbued with your own essence and perfectly suited to your abilities."
"Speaking of wands," I murmured thoughtfully, my fingertips tracing soft circles along the curve of Morgana's hip beneath the warm morning sheets, "I just realized—I've never once actually seen you use yours. Why is that?"
Morgana's expression immediately darkened. "My wand…" Morgana began softly, a delicate tension lacing her voice as memories flashed across her features, "it was stolen from me a very long time ago. That's why you've never seen me use it—I haven't possessed my wand for centuries."
My eyebrows rose in surprise, shock rippling through me. The very idea that Morgana—the single most powerful and talented witch I'd ever known—could lose something so precious seemed impossible to comprehend.
"Your wand was stolen?" I repeated gently, reaching up to gently cup her smooth cheek, guiding her troubled gaze back toward me. "Do you have any idea who took it?"
Morgana shook her head slowly, a hint of frustrated sadness clouding her gaze. "No, sadly. Over the centuries I've sought its whereabouts again and again. It occasionally resurfaces, always in the hands of some powerful witch or wizard—each one of them meeting an untimely and violent death before I can retrieve my wand again. Each time, someone new absconds with it, and the vicious cycle repeats itself."
I blinked in astonishment. "What the hell is that about?" I asked with genuine confusion. "Why would your wand cause so many deaths on its own?"
Morgana chuckled softly, the sound both amused and slightly bitter as she stroked my bare shoulder gently. "Because, my sweet apprentice, despite my wand being specifically attuned only to me, it remains infinitely superior to any pathetic stick created by the rest of wizardkind," Morgana explained with an elegant shrug. "When I crafted it, I poured unimaginable magic, intention, and unique ingredients into its core. It's an exceptionally powerful magical artifact, one so potent that its legend grew far beyond reality. Wizards and witches came to covet it greedily. Over the ages, my wand became something of a mythical object in their eyes—a fabled relic. They've foolishly begun referring to it as one of the three 'Deathly Hallows,' convinced it grants mastery over death itself."
I stared blankly at Morgana, still utterly confused by her strange words. I'd never once heard mention of anything called the Deathly Hallows.
Morgana read my obvious confusion with ease, laughter sparkling affectionately in her gaze as she smiled gently. "Of course, technically speaking, there are only two real Deathly Hallows. The Cloak of Invisibility, and the Resurrection Stone. My wand—the one they call the Elder Wand—is merely my own creation, yet somehow became entangled into their ridiculous legends."
I shook my head slowly, giving Morgana a helplessly lost look. "I'm sorry, Morgana, but I still have no idea what the hell you're talking about."
She chuckled again softly, reaching out affectionately to stroke my dark hair with tender fingers. "Don't worry, my sweet Amara," she purred reassuringly. "I promise, I'll find you a book containing these silly old wizarding stories someday. They're quite entertaining, even if mostly nonsense. Who knows?" Her emerald eyes flashed playfully as she smirked teasingly at me. "Perhaps someday it might prove amusing for you to track down the real Cloak or the Stone yourself."
I shrugged casually, smiling gently back at her. To be honest, I wasn't terribly interested in old fairy tales or silly wizard legends. I had more than enough excitement and danger in my daily life already.
With a soft sigh, I gently slipped from Morgana's warm embrace, rising slowly from the bed and stretching luxuriously in the warm morning sunlight. I felt her appreciative gaze tracing hungrily over every inch of my bare body, making me shiver softly with delight.
"I suppose," I called back teasingly over my shoulder, glancing playfully toward Morgana's lounging form on the bed, "I should shower quickly before we start crafting my wand."
But just as I stepped toward the bathroom, I felt Morgana's own warm, nude body pressing suddenly against me from behind. Her full, generous breasts pressed delightfully against my back, her slender arms wrapping possessively around my waist as she hugged me tenderly from behind.
I gasped aloud, startled but deeply pleased by her sudden affectionate gesture. Morgana's soft lips brushed teasingly against my ear, her warm breath whispering intimately against my sensitive skin. "Why waste water, my apprentice?" she purred seductively, her voice warm and teasing. "Surely showering together is far more efficient—not to mention infinitely more enjoyable…"
I giggled playfully, feigning resistance despite the flush of desire already blossoming brightly within me. "Morgana," I protested teasingly, a delighted squeal escaping my lips as she gently guided me into the bathroom, "you truly are shameless!"
"Only when it comes to you, my darling Amara," she whispered affectionately, drawing me into the warm embrace of the running shower, her lips descending tenderly onto mine as the hot water cascaded sensually over our entwined bodies.
…After Morgana and I had enjoyed our intimate, leisurely morning shower, I slipped into a fresh pair of tight black jeans and a soft tank top. Morgana donned her usual elegantly revealing black dress. Together, we headed down into our basement ritual chamber, ready to begin the wand-crafting process she'd promised me.
I immediately noticed that Daphne and Astoria were already present. The beautiful sisters sat quietly off to the side, waiting patiently for our arrival. However, something about them caught my attention immediately.
"Good morning, Daphne, Astoria," I greeted them warmly, flashing them a cheerful smile. "Did you both have a good night?"
Both sisters glanced up at my words, and I immediately noticed the heavy, dark circles shadowing their eyes. They both looked oddly exhausted, almost drained, and exchanged uncomfortable glances before quietly murmuring polite replies.
"Good morning, Amara," Daphne finally responded with a faintly forced smile, her usually icy-blue eyes weary but still appreciative as they subtly roamed over my figure. "Yes, our night was… pleasant."
"Pleasant?" Astoria muttered softly under her breath, clearly disagreeing. She shifted uncomfortably, glaring pointedly across the room—directly at Morgana.
To my surprise, Morgana let out a soft, musical chuckle beside me, clearly amused by something I was missing.
Both Daphne and Astoria immediately sent her sharp, irritated glares, their beautiful faces flushing bright red.
"Am I missing something here?" I asked with mild curiosity, glancing between the strangely tense witches. "You two look exhausted. Did you not get enough sleep?"
Astoria opened her mouth as if to answer, but Daphne quickly elbowed her sister sharply, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. Morgana chuckled softly again, clearly enjoying their embarrassment.
"Oh, I'm sure they simply had trouble relaxing," Morgana replied lightly, her voice filled with subtle innuendo as she smiled knowingly at the mortified sisters. "Perhaps our lovely Greengrass sisters need better… stress relief next time?"
Daphne flushed deeply at Morgana's teasing words, quickly looking away. Astoria, however, was more openly irritated. "We barely managed any rest because you made us watch—"
"Astoria!" Daphne hissed sharply, silencing her younger sister again.
My curiosity intensified, but Morgana merely chuckled softly, clearly refusing to explain further. With a small shrug, I finally turned my attention toward the large table set in the center of the room. Spread neatly across it were numerous unfamiliar materials—all carefully gathered by Morgana for the express purpose of creating my personal wand.
I eagerly approached the table. My gaze was immediately drawn toward an odd-looking black nut with a faintly ominous reddish tint. Curiously, I picked it up and turned toward Morgana. "What the hell is this supposed to be?"
Morgana's eyes glittered with pride as she gazed fondly at the strange seed-like object. "Ah, that was difficult to acquire, my dear apprentice. We were exceptionally lucky. That… is a Demon Seed, grown from the fruit of a tree fed exclusively with human blood, instead of water."
I stared blankly at Morgana, utterly speechless. Daphne and Astoria gasped aloud behind me, horrified expressions crossing their faces.
Morgana pouted defensively, clearly sensing our combined judgment. "Don't give me that look! It's not like I grew that particular tree myself! I simply know someone who cultivates them. I may be a dark, wicked witch—but I'm not that evil!" she declared, before adding with a sly smirk, "…most of the time."
I merely shook my head slightly.
Turning back to the table, my attention was suddenly drawn to another item. It was a black, gnarled tree branch, unlike anything I'd seen previously. It radiated an aura I struggled to identify, dark yet melancholy, filled with a cold sense of deep loneliness.
Curiously, I reached out to pick it up—
Morgana abruptly grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand sharply away from the mysterious branch. "What the hell…?" she hissed sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That certainly wasn't among the materials I prepared for you!"
I frowned in confusion, glancing between Morgana and the strange branch. I'd rarely seen Morgana so genuinely startled. My eyes then spotted a small folded note lying next to the branch.
Without thinking, I picked it up and read for everyone.
"'This will work much better for you than boring yew wood. With love, Didi~'"
Beside me, Morgana immediately sucked in a sharp, startled breath upon hearing the name, her emerald eyes widening briefly in alarm.
"Who the hell is 'Didi'?" I asked cautiously, feeling a sudden chill ripple down my spine at Morgana's visceral reaction.
Morgana hesitated, clearly torn over how much to reveal. Finally, she sighed softly, reaching out gently to stroke my cheek. "My dear apprentice, if you don't already know that name… it's genuinely better off that you never learn it. Trust me when I say you truly are amazing. I've never encountered someone so persistently fascinating as you."
I frowned again in confusion, the name "Didi" stirring vague, distant echoes of recognition within me. Yet, frustratingly, even my [Cursed Knowledge] offered nothing concrete. It was as if some powerful force deliberately blocked my memory.
Before I could press further, Astoria hesitantly cleared her throat. She shyly stepped forward, expression hopeful yet nervous. "Um, Lady Morgana—if you're going to craft a custom wand for Amara… would it also be possible for Daphne and me to have personalized wands?"
Morgana turned slowly toward Astoria. "Of course," she agreed. "You both will certainly have your own custom wands—though, naturally, Amara's wand must always be crafted first. She will forever remain my highest priority, as my beloved apprentice."
"As is expected," Daphne replied softly, her voice filled with respectful understanding as she inclined her head politely toward Morgana.
Astoria nodded eagerly, looking satisfied by Morgana's answer. Yet the younger witch hesitated again, biting her lip nervously before finally asking, "Lady Morgana… exactly what materials will you be using for our wands? Nothing quite so terrifying as Amara's, I hope?"
Morgana chuckled softly, clearly amused by Astoria's anxious expression. "Fear not, Astoria. I will ensure both you and Daphne receive wands perfectly suited to each of you. Powerful, yes—but without such… uniquely dark ingredients."
Daphne and Astoria both visibly relaxed at Morgana's reassuring promise. Yet I couldn't help but glance once more toward the ominous black branch provided by this mysterious "Didi," its cold, lonely aura still inexplicably calling to something deep within me.
Who exactly was this "Didi" person—and why did even Morgana fear speaking openly about her?
"It is time," Morgana said quietly. She reached out, lifting an ornately carved dagger from its resting place atop the table. She offered it calmly to me. "Your wand requires a sacrifice of your own magical blood, Amara. Do you trust me?"
"With my life," I replied without hesitation, accepting the dagger with steady fingers. I turned toward Daphne and Astoria briefly. "Don't panic," I warned them gently, already anticipating their reaction. "I'll be fine."
Without giving them a chance to protest, I pressed the blade firmly against my pale wrist. Daphne and Astoria's terrified yelps rang out simultaneously as I quickly drew the blade across my smooth flesh, slicing deeply. Bright crimson blood welled rapidly from the fresh wound, spilling generously across the strange and sinister ingredients spread across the ritual table.
"Amara, what the fuck are you doing?!" Astoria shrieked in panic, looking horrified. Daphne was pale as a ghost, staring at my bleeding wrist with wide eyes filled with dread.
But I simply smiled calmly at the beautiful, frightened sisters, already feeling the soothing warmth of my powerful regeneration surging beneath my skin. "Relax, ladies, I told you I'd be fine," I chuckled lightly, casually lifting my wrist to show them. As they stared, speechless, the deep wound sealed shut in seconds, leaving behind only flawless pale skin. Not even the faintest scar remained. "See?"
"Wow…" Astoria whispered faintly, wide-eyed in awe. Her gaze flickered between my flawless wrist and the blood I'd spilled across the ritual ingredients. "That's incredible. I wish I could heal like that!"
I flashed her a mischievous smirk, unable to resist teasing. "Well, you certainly can," I purred playfully, winking at Astoria as she flushed adorably beneath my attention. "All it takes is a tiny bit of human sacrifice."
Both Greengrass sisters immediately blanched again, their expressions utterly horrified. Daphne shot me a pleading, terrified glance, as if silently begging me to admit I was joking.
Morgana sighed softly beside me, shaking her head slightly in exasperation. "Amara, stop terrifying our poor new coven mates," she gently scolded, clearly trying not to laugh herself. "Remember—they spent years attending Hogwarts, a terribly stuffy, light-oriented school in Britain. It will take quite a while to properly acclimate them to the wonders of truly powerful dark magic."
"Sorry, Mistress," I apologized sweetly, giving Morgana an innocent, playful smile. Daphne and Astoria both visibly relaxed again, thinking I had been teasing them.
I had not, but they'd learn one day…
Morgana smiled indulgently, raising her slender hands gracefully above the blood-soaked ritual ingredients. She began chanting softly in Latin, the ancient, haunting words filling the dim chamber with palpable power. Without needing instruction, I immediately joined my voice with Morgana's, matching her Latin chant word-for-word as best I could.
"Anima et sanguine, vim meam tibi do… In sanguine noctis, magiam tuam creo…"
Together, our voices blended harmoniously, each syllable resonating deep within my soul. I felt my magic stir restlessly beneath my skin, eager to be unleashed. The spilled blood across the ritual table glowed faintly crimson, absorbing our combined magical energy as we continued chanting.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the strange and sinister wand components began moving, shifting unnaturally across the table. Guided by the combined force of our chanting, the dark materials drew closer, merging gradually, seamlessly fusing together into something new.
My heart raced faster, yet I forced myself to focus, carefully repeating each powerful Latin word Morgana taught me. She was channeling effortlessly, calmly—yet I could feel an incredible drain as more and more of my personal magic was drawn relentlessly from my body.
Minutes dragged onward, our chanting never faltering. Sweat beaded across my forehead, my limbs trembling slightly from the incredible exertion of magic I was giving off.
Daphne and Astoria watched in awe from the sidelines.
Finally, after nearly twenty exhausting minutes of ceaseless chanting, I suddenly felt an enormous surge of magic tear violently from my body, leaving me gasping weakly, vision darkening rapidly.
I swayed unsteadily on my feet, consciousness nearly slipping away entirely.
Strong arms wrapped quickly around me. Morgana's reassuring embrace steadying me immediately. "Easy, my dear apprentice," she murmured softly in my ear. "It is done. Your wand is complete."
Blinking dazedly, my vision slowly cleared, revealing the incredible sight before me. Resting proudly in the very center of the blood-stained ritual table was a fully assembled witch's wand—my wand.
It was absolutely breathtaking.
Pitch-black and polished to perfection, the wand radiated undeniable dark power. When I shakily reached out to lift it, a sudden surge of warmth and fierce connection shot through my skin, confirming instantly that this wand was uniquely, perfectly mine.
I stared speechless at the beautiful wand now resting reverently within my grasp, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. Morgana gently cupped my flushed cheek, smiling warmly. "Congratulations, Amara," she whispered proudly, eyes shining affectionately. "You are finally a true witch."
I smiled weakly, leaning gratefully into her touch. Behind us, Daphne and Astoria watched quietly, their expressions openly stunned by what they'd just witnessed.
Perhaps, after today, the Greengrass sisters would finally begin understanding what it truly meant to wield genuinely powerful magic—and why Morgana and I were unafraid to embrace darkness in pursuit of ultimate strength and vengeance.
I turned to Morgana, still breathing a bit heavily as the aftershocks of our ritual faded. The power surging from my new wand pulsed through my fingers, intense and thrilling, practically humming with promise. It was mine, truly mine, forged of my blood and soul—dark magic bound intimately to my will. The sheer potential made my heart race with anticipation.
Morgana smiled warmly, her gaze lingering proudly on my flushed face before turning smoothly toward Daphne and Astoria. The sisters stood quietly nearby, still looking visibly shaken by the intensity of the wand-creation ceremony they had just witnessed.
"Daphne, Astoria," Morgana spoke calmly, her voice once more the elegant, confident purr of authority. "Amara and I will be heading out immediately. It's time we properly test her wand in the field. After all, sometimes vengeance is a dish best served cold—but other times, it must be swift and merciless."
Daphne paled slightly, exchanging an anxious glance with Astoria. "Vengeance?" she echoed softly. "Who are you taking vengeance upon, Lady Morgana?"
Morgana's emerald eyes narrowed dangerously, a cold smile playing upon her lips. "The Penguin," she declared coolly. "He betrayed our trust by selling information about us directly to Batman. Such betrayal cannot go unpunished—especially amongst villains. Loyalty among criminals is tenuous enough already. Without swift punishment, others might think it acceptable to defy us."
My eyes widened slightly, and I tilted my head curiously. "Are we planning to kill him?" I asked calmly, my voice devoid of sympathy. Honestly, the Penguin had never impressed me much—he was little more than a glorified mobster with gimmicks and far less important or threatening than some of Gotham's more dangerous villains. Surely no one would miss him much if we did kill him.
Yet Morgana merely smirked, her eyes glittering with dark amusement. "Oh no, my sweet apprentice. Death would be far too merciful a fate for such blatant betrayal," she purred ominously. "We'll deliver him a far more appropriate punishment—something far worse, a reminder to anyone else who might ever consider betraying us."
Behind me, Daphne and Astoria audibly gulped, shifting nervously at Morgana's chilling promise. The older witch smiled indulgently at their reaction, before gently addressing the two sisters again. "Now, tell me, my beautiful Greengrass sisters—what exactly are your plans from this moment onward? Will you both be living here with us full-time from now on, or do you have other commitments?"
Daphne hesitated briefly, exchanging a cautious look with her younger sister before finally stepping forward. "Lady Morgana," she replied respectfully, choosing her words carefully, "we would be honored to remain here with you and Amara in Gotham—for the rest of the summer, at the very least. But when September arrives, Hogwarts will resume again back in Britain. Both Astoria and I intend to return."
Morgana's lips instantly curled in a faintly disdainful sneer. "Hogwarts? Honestly, Daphne, I find myself rather disappointed," she scoffed lightly, waving her slender hand dismissively. "That tedious, backward school filled with old fools who preach about morality and limit the true potential of witches like yourselves—it hardly seems worthy of your time and attention anymore. Not when Amara and I could provide you both with a far superior magical education."
Astoria quickly nodded, her expression surprisingly determined as she hurriedly interjected, "We agree completely, Mistress Morgana! In terms of an actual education, Hogwarts is undoubtedly inferior compared to the kind of training you and Amara could offer us. However, our family still maintains crucial business connections among other Slytherin students—connections we simply cannot afford to lose. Attending Hogwarts, at least until we're finished our schooling, is still necessary."
Daphne added carefully, "Yes, precisely. And by continuing to attend Hogwarts, we could also act as your agents, keeping you both informed of any important developments in Britain's magical community."
Morgana considered this thoughtfully for a long moment before finally nodding slowly, seeming to accept their logic. "Hmm. You make a fair argument. Very well, my Greengrass sisters—continue attending Hogwarts if you must. But in terms of actual magical training, it is settled." She turned, smiling confidently toward me. "I will personally instruct Amara, teaching her everything I know. And then she will, in turn, instruct the two of you."
I blinked in surprise, not having anticipated such responsibility so quickly. Yet, despite the suddenness of it all, I found myself feeling strangely excited by the prospect of teaching these beautiful witches.
Daphne and Astoria both immediately turned toward me, their expressions openly hopeful. Morgana chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the moment. She gracefully approached the two younger witches, leaning close to whisper teasingly, "Of course, precisely how much Amara chooses to teach you both… well, that entirely depends on how thoroughly you manage to please her."
The sisters blushed furiously at Morgana's blatant teasing, both immediately casting nervous, eager glances in my direction. I couldn't help but smile mischievously at their adorable reactions, deliberately letting my gaze sweep slowly and appreciatively over their flushed, pretty faces and curvaceous figures. "I'm sure we can work out a suitable arrangement," I purred playfully, smirking slightly as the beautiful sisters visibly squirmed beneath my hungry stare. "Consider it proper motivation to always strive toward excellence."
Astoria swallowed audibly, clearly trying to contain her excitement. Daphne blushed even deeper, biting nervously at her lower lip. Yet neither sister raised any objections—in fact, judging from the heated desire already shining within their gazes, they were looking forward immensely to "earning" my personal instruction.
…Villains didn't usually strike in broad daylight in Gotham, but then again, Morgana wasn't your average villain. She had her own rules, her own methods. And according to her, daylight was the best opportunity to avoid Batman's meddling.
For all his legendary resilience, Gotham's Dark Knight was still human. He had to sleep eventually.
"One day he'll sleep forever," Morgana had murmured darkly, a cold, vengeful gleam in her emerald eyes. Her voice had sent shivers down my spine. She'd lost so much because of Batman and his allies, and vengeance seemed to be her primary motivation these days.
I still wasn't completely on board with Morgana's idea of destroying the entire Justice League. My [Cursed Knowledge] had already informed me exactly what kind of a piece of shit her son Mordred was.
Nightwing had backed that up, explaining Mordred's attempted destruction of Metropolis. If Mordred had succeeded… that would have been a disaster on an epic scale.
He could have started Injustice…
I just reminded myself to kill the Joker as soon as possible…
In a strange way, I was grateful Mordred was dead. Morgana was mine now. Her body, her thoughts—they revolved around me. And though I knew it was twisted, my demonic side thrilled at the thought.
As we materialized just outside the ornate entrance to Penguin's nightclub, the Iceberg Lounge, I felt my new wand pulsing at my fingertips. The lounge was naturally closed during the morning hours, which suited our plan perfectly.
We hadn't bothered disguising ourselves today, there was no need. Morgana's beauty was intimidating enough, and even though neither of us were as publicly recognizable as someone like the Joker or Two-Face, Penguin's thugs obviously knew exactly who we were.
Two large, bulky guards stood outside the door, glancing at us nervously. I recognized one of them immediately. It was one of the same unfortunate men who had cleaned up the mess after my sacrificial ritual. Either he squealed, or his buddies did. Bad luck for him either way.
"Good morning, ladies," he stammered, his eyes wide and fearful. He glanced anxiously at his equally nervous partner before addressing us again. "W-what brings you two here?"
I gave him my sweetest smile, stepping closer as I twirled my wand lazily between my fingers.
"You know," I purred softly, stepping dangerously close. He flinched, backing himself against the ornate doorway. "I like to consider myself a genuinely nice person."
He stared blankly at me, his breathing becoming erratic. He clearly knew what was coming.
"But there's one thing I really, really dislike," I whispered darkly, leaning in closer until my emerald eyes filled his terrified vision. "Betrayal."
I raised my wand, pointing its sleek ebony length directly at his chest. My magic surged, responding to my desire rather than a specific spell. Morgana had warned me my wand would amplify and focus my magical intent, shaping my desires into reality. And right now, I wanted to see this traitorous little bastard suffer.
With a dark pulse of power, a blast of pure darkness erupted from my wand and slammed directly into his body. He stumbled backwards, clutching his chest as his eyes widened in pure agony.
Then he screamed.
It wasn't an ordinary scream of pain—it was a raw, desperate shriek of unimaginable torment. He fell to his knees, his veins rapidly darkening beneath his skin, eyes bulging grotesquely. His hands clawed frantically at his flesh, skin steaming and blistering from the inside out.
My spell was literally boiling his blood within him.
The second guard stared in horrified disbelief, frozen like a statue, too terrified to move.
Morgana casually stepped forward, watching my handiwork with open approval.
"Beautifully done, my apprentice," she praised softly, placing her hand gently upon my shoulder. Her gaze flicked coldly toward the other guard. "Would you like the second one as well, or shall I?"
"I've had my fun. Be my guest," I offered graciously, smirking as I watched the remaining guard's face twist in terror.
Morgana lifted her hand gracefully, not even bothering to draw a wand. "Run, mortal," she murmured with mocking gentleness. "Perhaps you'll escape."
The terrified guard hesitated only briefly before bolting desperately down the alleyway.
With an almost bored sigh, Morgana casually flicked her wrist. An invisible force erupted forth, striking him squarely in the back, sending him violently crashing into the brick wall. Bones cracked loudly, his skull shattering against brickwork, leaving a gruesome smear of blood and brains dripping down.
I glanced appreciatively at Morgana. "You have a real knack for dramatic kills."
She chuckled lightly, her smile icy. "Centuries of practice, my dear apprentice."
Stepping over the boiling corpse, Morgana elegantly pushed open the double doors leading inside the Iceberg Lounge. A startled group of Penguin's lackeys scrambled for their weapons, yet Morgana raised her hand calmly. With another effortless gesture, a concussive blast knocked all five men violently backwards, unconscious bodies sprawling onto the club's polished floor.
Together we proceeded deeper inside, striding confidently through lavish rooms decorated with extravagant ice-themed sculptures and elaborate chandeliers. Penguin's guards were no match for us, falling effortlessly to our combined magic.
Finally, we arrived at Penguin's office, an overly decorated chamber filled with gaudy luxury. Behind an ornate mahogany desk sat Oswald Cobblepot himself, sweating profusely beneath his top hat. His monocle dropped onto his desk as he shakily raised his hands in immediate surrender.
"Ladies, please!" Penguin pleaded desperately, his voice strained and terrified. "There's clearly been some misunderstanding—"
"Oh, there's no misunderstanding," I purred coldly, stepping closer, wand still pointed threateningly. "You betrayed us to Batman, Cobblepot. That is a very grave mistake."
Penguin's face paled dramatically, eyes darting rapidly between Morgana and myself. "I—I swear, I had no choice! Batman—he cornered me! Threatened to shut down my entire operation unless I gave him intel!"
"And yet," Morgana interjected icily, gracefully stepping around his desk, her piercing emerald eyes locked coldly onto Penguin's sweating face. "You still chose him over us."
Penguin swallowed audibly, his expression utterly desperate. "Please… what can I do? I'll do anything—"
"Oh, don't worry," Morgana purred ominously, her voice dripping sweetly with menace. "You will."
Before Penguin could scream, Morgana's hand snapped out, clasping his head firmly in her delicate grip. A searing pulse of dark magic surged from her fingertips, flooding directly into his skull. Penguin shrieked helplessly, body jerking and convulsing violently beneath Morgana's touch.
She released him abruptly, letting Penguin collapse weakly into his chair. He stared blankly forward, eyes glassy and unfocused.
"What did you do?" I asked, intrigued.
"I shattered his mind completely," Morgana replied calmly, casually wiping her fingertips as if removing dirt. "I left behind just enough instinct to remain alive, a drooling husk. From now on, let this be a reminder to all who betray us. Death would be a mercy in comparison."
I shivered, deeply impressed by Morgana's ruthlessness. Penguin's punishment was utterly perfect—a lasting warning.
– Batman –
Gotham General Hospital's sterile, antiseptic scent mingled unpleasantly with the lingering trace of coppery blood and human misery.
Batman stood silently at the bedside of Oswald Cobblepot, better known as the Penguin. The once-infamous villain stared vacantly at the ceiling, eyes dull, mouth slack with a thin string of drool trickling slowly down his chin. To the Dark Knight's trained gaze, this was worse than death—cruel, deliberate, and calculated.
Beside him stood J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter. His eyes emitted a faint emerald glow as he carefully probed Penguin's shattered psyche, gentle hands hovering just above the man's temples. Dick Grayson, Nightwing, paced nearby, visibly restless, glancing anxiously at the monitors. Batman studied his former apprentice closely, noting the subtle tension in Nightwing's stance—the dark circles beneath his eyes, the way his jaw clenched tight each time Penguin let out another nonsensical moan.
"J'onn," Batman spoke, voice low but carrying undeniable authority. "Any progress?"
The Martian Manhunter's eyes ceased glowing as he pulled his hands back slowly, straightening himself upright and sighing softly. "His mind is fractured beyond anything I've encountered in recent years," J'onn reported gravely. "Fragments of memories and personality are scattered chaotically. It's like a delicate crystal sculpture smashed against a stone wall." The Martian paused, his expression deeply troubled. "However, there is a chance I can reconstruct at least some portion of his consciousness—but it would require my undivided attention for weeks. Perhaps longer."
Batman scowled beneath the shadow of his cowl. Losing Martian Manhunter's formidable abilities for several weeks just to salvage whatever scraps remained of Penguin's mind was unacceptable. The rest of the Justice League would never agree to such a waste of resources, especially for a murderous villain like Cobblepot—even if the man had supposedly tried reforming himself by becoming Gotham's "legitimate" businessman. Of course, 'legitimate' was a subjective term. The Iceberg Lounge still served as Gotham's cesspool of drugs, prostitution, and corrupt power-brokering.
"Understood," Batman finally replied, his voice terse. "Take a short break, J'onn. We'll discuss our options shortly."
The Martian nodded solemnly, stepping away from the bedside to give the two vigilantes privacy. Once alone, Batman turned towards Nightwing. "This violence has escalated rapidly," Batman growled, frustration simmering just below his carefully maintained exterior. "Morgana and her apprentice—this girl, Amara—they've piled up an unacceptable body count in my city in just a few days."
Nightwing stiffened perceptibly at Amara's name, a reaction so subtle most others would miss it—but not Batman. Narrowing his eyes, Batman studied Dick closely. "Is something wrong?"
Dick hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not trying to excuse Morgana," he finally began, tone cautious. "But Amara... She hasn't been with Morgana very long. I'm certain of that. She still might be redeemable. In fact, I believe the only reason I survived that fight last night was because she saved me somehow! Morgana incapacitated me effortlessly—she could've easily ended me right then and there—but Amara intervened somehow. And Raven..." He paused, voice softening noticeably. "Amara didn't even try attacking Raven at all. Although Raven hasn't told me everything that happened between the two of them when I was unconscious."
Batman considered Nightwing's earnest expression thoughtfully. "Dick, we both know how dangerous it is to trust a beautiful villainess," Batman warned, voice carefully neutral. "They exploit compassion. Play with your sympathies and twist your feelings against you."
Even as Batman spoke those words, he knew exactly how hypocritical he sounded. Memories surfaced, painfully clear and vivid—of passionate nights tangled up with dangerous women he'd foolishly believed he could save. Selina. Talia. Others. Women who had once been enemies yet somehow managed to crawl beneath the armor, past all his carefully constructed defenses, straight into his battered heart.
Hell, Bruce even had a child with Talia al Ghul, heir to one of the world's deadliest assassins. Damian—a son raised in violence, now desperately clawing his way toward redemption, despite everything he'd been taught.
And then there was Helena. Officially, he had never acknowledged Helena as his child. Yet he still quietly ensured the girl received the finest care, education, and funding he could anonymously funnel toward her foster home. Even if Selina had stubbornly refused to confirm Helena's parentage, Batman knew in his bones—she was his daughter. And a piece of him feared Helena's lineage would inevitably draw her back into Gotham's shadows, just like Amara had been drawn into Morgana's darkness.
Batman exhaled quietly, feeling an unwelcome pang of empathy. "It may still be possible to save her," Batman finally conceded, choosing his words carefully. "But every single day she spends with Morgana—every life she willingly takes—it becomes harder. I've seen the security footage from Penguin's club. She smiled when she killed that man, Dick. She enjoyed it. Boiled his blood from the inside out without even flinching."
Dick lowered his gaze, shoulders slumping wearily beneath the crushing weight of Batman's words. "I have to try, Bruce," Nightwing whispered softly, determination flickering behind those troubled blue eyes. "I can't give up on her. Not yet."
Batman silently regarded Nightwing, sensing clearly the depth of his protégé's desperation—the raw emotional pain lingering beneath the surface. He understood perfectly well that Dick needed a win, badly. The Titans were splintering, torn apart by internal betrayal after Starfire had cheated on Dick, shattering the young hero's heart and dignity in one brutal stroke.
Batman knew better than anyone just how profoundly devastating such personal betrayals could feel. How they could destroy a hero from within, chipping relentlessly at their sense of self-worth, their purpose. If saving Amara represented even the slightest chance for Dick to reclaim his shattered confidence—to regain some sense of justice and hope—Batman couldn't deny him that slim opportunity.
After a long moment of heavy silence, Batman finally sighed softly, placing a supportive hand upon Nightwing's tense shoulder. "Alright. If you truly believe there's still hope—I'll trust your judgment. But tread carefully, Dick. Don't let emotions cloud your decisions. Amara's actions show she's slipping deeper into Morgana's darkness."
Nightwing nodded slowly, clearly grateful. "I'll be careful, Bruce. I promise."
Batman squeezed Dick's shoulder gently before turning back toward Penguin's shattered, vacant form lying helplessly in the hospital bed. His scowl deepened beneath the cowl.
Morgana le Fay represented one of the most dangerous magical threats Batman had faced in recent years—her cruelty, ruthlessness, and raw magical power placing her firmly amongst Gotham's deadliest foes.
"We have to stop Morgana soon," Batman murmured darkly, voice hardened steel beneath the grim determination. "Before she plunges Gotham even deeper into darkness."
Nightwing met Batman's steely gaze unflinchingly, determined fire rekindling fiercely within his blue eyes. "We will. I swear it, Bruce. Whatever it takes."
Batman allowed himself a brief, approving nod. "Good. I'll work on tracking Morgana's movements and predicting her next target. But Amara..." He hesitated, allowing himself a brief moment of vulnerability beneath the armor. "She's your mission now, Dick. Try to reach her—but remember your limits."
Dick Grayson nodded again, visibly relieved by Batman's cautious approval. "I understand. I'll find her—and I'll try."
– Raven –
Raven knew she should have gone back to Jump City by now, but instead she found herself aimlessly wandering the grim, rain-slick streets of Gotham. The hood of her oversized, dark-grey hoodie cast deep shadows across her pale face, and her baggy sweatpants obscured the sensual curves of her hips and thighs, a deliberate attempt to hide her more distinctive and recognizable features.
She sighed, shaking her head lightly at her own foolishness.
Once upon a time, Raven had naively thought herself ordinary-looking—plain, even. But a single misguided venture onto the internet had shattered that delusion forever! To her astonishment and embarrassment, she discovered she was easily one of the most popular female superheroes in the world! Websites, forums, fan art—all obsessively dedicated to her, much of it shamelessly explicit.
So MUCH PORN!
Raven shuddered, pulling her hoodie tighter around her slender body, attempting vainly to erase the vivid mental images burned into her mind. It wasn't vanity that disturbed her, rather, it was the sheer intensity of people's desires projected onto her—strangers fantasizing obsessively about her without really knowing her.
She tried to clear her mind, shifting her thoughts to something—someone—far more important. Amara. The mysterious, alluring half-demon she had encountered last night. Raven's pulse quickened at the mere thought of her.
Raven felt heat bloom across her pale cheeks as memories of Amara flooded back—her striking emerald eyes, her silky raven-black hair tumbling over her bare shoulders, the generous swell of her full, supple breasts, tipped with soft pink nipples that Raven couldn't help but vividly recall. Amara's body had been perfection incarnate, every curve seemingly designed to evoke desire. Raven's mouth went dry, her heart beating faster at the undeniable pull she felt towards the beautiful young succubus.
She paused on a deserted street corner, leaning against a grimy brick wall. Get a grip, she chided herself inwardly. This fixation was unusual for her—normally she controlled her desires and emotions ruthlessly. Yet she couldn't deny that something about Amara drew her in like an irresistible force, beyond mere physical attraction. Was it because they were both half-demons? Was it because there would finally be someone else who could truly accept her. No one else on her team, even after all these years—going from the Teen Titans, to just the Titans—knew about her demonic heritage. It was better that way she always thought.
Raven found it amusing, too, that Dick—Nightwing—had also clearly developed an attraction towards Amara. It felt almost karmic in a way, considering that Raven herself had once harbored a painfully intense crush on Starfire during their younger days. She had yearned quietly and secretly for the stunning Tamaranean beauty for years, stealing glances and fantasizing shamefully whenever Koriand'r unknowingly flaunted her luscious curves in the Titans Tower.
The vivid memory of Starfire's earnest, casual offer to "assist Raven in losing her virginity" resurfaced suddenly, sending another heated blush rippling across Raven's pale skin. Raven had nearly accepted Starfire's playful offer, only stopping herself because Starfire and Dick were together at the time. And Raven, despite all her hidden desires, refused to betray Dick. She remembered clearly how Starfire, untroubled by earthly concepts of fidelity, had cheerfully explained to a shocked Raven that on her planet, love and sexuality were openly shared between friends.
Yet Raven had refused, mostly due to her own insecurities and lingering guilt.
Years later now, when Starfire had ultimately cheated on Dick, Raven had felt a deep sadness—but also, shamefully, a flicker of regret for not allowing herself at least one intimate night with Starfire when the Tamaranean had offered. Perhaps then her heart wouldn't still ache whenever Starfire's name crossed her mind.
Raven sighed again, frustration simmering within her. Her thoughts rarely switched topics this rapidly or chaotically. She felt jittery, her usually disciplined mind restless and distracted. Perhaps I should meditate for a few hours, she decided. Meditation always calmed her, restored order and control over her tumultuous emotions.
"Later tonight," Raven whispered softly to herself beneath the shadow of her hoodie, "I'll go out with Dick. He's determined to hunt Amara down again."
Just as she stepped away from the wall to continue walking, she sensed movement behind her. A rush of adrenaline surged through her veins, and she instinctively braced herself.
A rough hand clamped tightly around Raven's arm from behind, spinning her roughly to face a greasy-haired, wild-eyed mugger wielding a rusty knife. "Wallet and phone, bitch!" he snarled, voice trembling slightly from either drugs or nerves. His breath reeked of stale booze and cheap cigarettes.
Freaking Gotham…
Raven didn't even bother raising an eyebrow at him. "Bad idea," she replied flatly.
With an effortless mental command, she summoned forth tendrils of darkness. Shadows erupted violently from beneath the mugger's feet, yanking him downward with a startled, terrified scream. He vanished completely, swallowed entirely by his own shadow.
Raven sighed softly, shaking her head at Gotham's perpetual stupidity. "You'll survive," she murmured with mild indifference toward the now-empty street. "Probably."
She resumed her aimless wandering, ignoring the faint sound of muffled cries drifting up from beneath the pavement. The mugger was unharmed—physically, anyway—but would spend the next few hours trapped in a terrifying, nightmarish dimension Raven had created for him. It would teach him a valuable lesson about respecting women, she hoped.
But frankly, she didn't much care either way.
Her mind immediately returned again to thoughts of Amara—beautiful, alluring Amara. Raven felt the blush return fiercely, warmth spreading rapidly through her body, heat pooling shamelessly between her thighs as she imagined running her fingers across the succubus's naked skin.
It was strange. Raven had suppressed her desires for so long, buried them deeply behind careful emotional walls. Yet somehow, just thinking about the young succubus left her heart racing and her panties embarrassingly damp.
If Amara was even half as lonely, misunderstood, and conflicted about her demonic side as Raven herself had once been, then perhaps Raven could genuinely help her find a better path. And perhaps, whispered a hidden, shamefully hopeful part of her mind, Amara could finally understand Raven, too—in ways no one else ever had.
With her heartbeat still quickening slightly, Raven pulled her hood more securely over her head and hurried along Gotham's dark streets, determined.
Later tonight, she would go patrolling again alongside Dick, yes.
XXX