A/N: The following has been suggested (many, MANY times) by zero_fillibuster, among others. This isn't going to be a gay-hypnosis story (at least, not in a traditional sense), but hopefully you'll like it all the same.

This takes place after "Clearsight x Darkstalker".

Fathom focused on his breathing, trying to calm his body and mind as he waited within his quarters. He hadn't been this nervous since Albatross killed most of his friends and family at the massacre. And yet, as horrible as that was, the Seawing prince thought he'd almost prefer having to fight his grandpa than having to do what he was about to do.

He still couldn't believe the last couple days he had. Clearsight had come to visit him while Indigo and his guards were out, telling him about these visions she had about them and Darkstalker. She was adamant that the only way to stop her boyfriend from going evil was if he joined them romantically. Worse yet, Darkstalker was planning to enchant him to be his lackey and sub, and the only way to stop him was to "fuck the evil out of him" (What did that even mean?!). So the two of them concocted a plan against him, a way to stop him and purify his soul through some kind of tantric exorcism. When they were done, she thanked him for going through all this... and then she kissed him. And it wasn't just a kiss between friends, but a deep, passionate kiss that took his breath away. It caught him by surprise, leaving him stunned and confused as she left. That Clearsight was just as good as Indigo only added to this confusion.

When Indigo came back later in the day, Fathom told her an altered version of the plan (how do you explain to your lover that your best friend's girl wants you to bang her boyfriend?), perhaps hoping to be talked out of it. Instead, her bodyguard/girlfriend said she'd been talking to the Seer for a while now, and - as much as it pained her to say it - this might be one of those few times where he had to use his power to stop another Animus. Clearsight had even offered to spend the day with her when Fathom was to confront Darkstalker, giving her whatever protection she could when whatever happened, well, happened. Fathom didn't know how to feel about this new, amorous Clearsight being around his girlfriend all day at a beach, but that was what it took to keep her safe, then he'd accept any course of action.

The next day, he was up all night, working on enchanting his room for what was to come. Clearsight had informed him that, for about two or so hours, she would be "distracting" Darkstalker, giving him that much time to turn his quarters into a secret trap for the Nightwing Animus. As much as he hated and feared using his power, Fathom understood that he had no choice, and set about his work. Enchanting his room so Darkstalker can't perceive or use animus magic inside, while subconsciously limiting his mindreading and prophecy powers; enchanting the roof, walls and floor to obey and move to his command; enchanting himself to be immune to Darkstalker's enchantments; and finally, enchanting himself to be brave enough to do what he needed to do. It was exhausting work, absolutely, but he hoped he'd done just enough to succeed.

Which brought them to today, here and now. He'd been waiting for Darkstalker for a couple of minutes now, knowing he'd be arriving soon, and mentally preparing himself for whatever kind of confrontation was about to happen. He tried reading one of the letters sent from his sister, Queen Pearl, discussing current events back in the Sea Kingdom, but for the life of him he couldn't focus enough to read.

I can't believe I'm about to do this, He thought, putting away the scroll with exasperation. Out of all the ways we could save Darkstalker, why'd it have to be some kind of sex fight? Couldn't I just tap him and enchant him to be good? Why does this have to become a sexual assault? Oh Spirits, will this make me a rapist?!

Before he could worry himself into an existential pit, he heard the balcony door open. Realizing he couldn't back out now, Fathom sighed and got out of bed.

"Hello, Fathom," The familiar deep voice of his friend called out, "Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could hang out today."

"Oh, sure," Fathom agreed, as he left his bedroom and they both entered the living room, "Do you mind if we stay here, though? I don't feel like flying today. I think I slept on my wings wrong."

"Why don't you enchant something to fix your aches and pains?" Darkstalker suggested, "Or, better yet, just enchant yourself to always be refreshed and invigorated when you wake up?"

"I don't want to lose part of my soul just to avoid aches and pains. And besides..." Fathom mentally sighed, as he said the line Clearsight told him to say, "...Some of us like waking up a little sore, if the night before was fun."

"Heh, you got that right." He didn't have to be a mindreader to know his friend was thinking of the day before with his girlfriend. His eyes had a distant look, as he sometimes did when looking into the future. Fathom took his chance, glancing at the doors behind them. Silently, they closed, preventing the Nightwing from escaping what was bound to happen. The outside sky was dull and gray, and in the well-lit chambers they settled into, the change in lighting was hardly noticeable.

"Fathom," The Nightwing continued, "I've been meaning to ask you, do you ever miss your home, in the Sea Kingdom?"

"Well, yeah," Fathom admitted, "Of course I do. But I can't go back now. I've been sent here to help you."

"You've been banished, is what you mean." Darkstalker plopped himself down on Fathom's couch, motioning for his friend to join him. The former Seawing prince sighed, sitting down closer than he normally would. The Nightwing raised a curious eyebrow, as Fathom focused on keeping his mind neutral, focusing on the sights and sounds of the deep sea. If this struck Darkstalker as weird, he didn't give any indication, as he continued, "What if I told you there was a way to go home? What if I told you we could be Kings together?"

"Darkstalker..." Fathom sighed.

"I'm serious!" He insisted, "I've seen the futures, Fathom! I know how we can make them happen! The four of us, ruling all of Phyrria together. You and me, The Animus Kings, together with Queen Clearsight the All-Seeing, and Queen Indigo the Brave." His tone soured slightly at the mention of Fathom's girlfriend - the two were still icy around each other, though both had made efforts to NOT be complete dicks to each other when all four of them were together. That he mentioned her at all seemed like a good sign - maybe a little bit of sex was taking the edges of the hybrid dragon.

"And how would we do that?" Fathom asked, trying to go for confused and curious rather than confrontational, "I don't want to kill my sister, and I don't want you to damage your soul killing Vigilance or... or anyone else." He almost mentioned Darkstalker's grandmother, Queen Diamond, but caught himself. By all accounts, she was someone who should die, and would only further set him on the path of evil.

"That's why I want you to join me," Darkstalker explained, placing a paw on the crook of his neck. Fathom shivered at the slight static ping he felt along his scales, knowing that his friend just tried to sneak in an enchantment on him. "Even as talented and awesome as I am, securing my destiny would be... difficult, and bloody. But with you and Clearsight by my side, nobody has to die who doesn't deserve it. We can rule Phyrria together - I rule the West, you rule the East. We can lead dragonkind into a golden age of progress and prosperity. And in time, who knows? Maybe my children could marry your children, unify our dynasties, make us brothers. Doesn't that sound good?"

Darkstalker reached up and caressed Fathom's gills. A delightful thrill ran down the Seawing's spine, the gills being a sensitive, erogenous body part of his anatomy. The movement looked accidental, but the Prince knew better. And the way his friend emphasized "brothers", in a simmering, almost seductive tone. He's flirting with me, isn't he? He thought, sighing. I guess that's going to make what comes next easier.

"Darkstalker," Fathom sighed, taking his friend's paw in his own, "I want to believe that. Really, I do. But I can't. I've seen what using our power too much can do to a dragon. I can't stand by and let what happened to my grandfather happen to another dragon I care about. I won't."

"Fathom, I'm fine!" His friend insisted, "I'm not going to turn evil or crazy! I've already taken precautions to-"

"You've already started changing," Fathom cut him off, "I see it in your eyes. The corruption's already started to set in... And I'm going to get it out of you." He said that last part with a bit of an edge, narrowing his eyes as he readied himself.

Darkstalker stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. "You?" He asked incredulously, getting up from the couch, "You think you can stop me? You have no mindreading, no futuresight, and you don't even want to use your power. How can you possibly hope to beat me?"

Fathom smiled knowingly, holding his gaze. The Nightwing's own smile faltered, and he knew he just learned he couldn't use his abilities here. He tilted his head in surprise. "You enchanted this place?"

"I did."

"You blocked my mental and animus powers?"

"I have."

"And so, what, you plan on just fighting me? Wrestling me like we're a pair of dragonets?" He held himself up taller, trying to look bigger and scarier.

Fathom retorted by getting up himself, and his friend's confident expression faltered. Darkstalker was the taller of the two, but while he was tall and on the thin side, Fathom was thick and muscular. Like all Seawings, he spent much of his time swimming, and while his wing muscles were weaker, the rest of his body was much stronger. More than that, he actually spent time wrestling around with other dragonets when he grew up, and Indigo had been thoughtful enough to teach him some moves.

Without those magical powers, without those mental abilities, it was clear who had the advantage in a fight.

"Yes," Fathom told him, "That's exactly what I plan on doing."

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternally long moment. Darkstalker moved for the door, but Fathom had expected him to do that. He jumped onto the Nightwing, and they started rolling around on the ground. There was much biting and scratching and tail-whacking, but it was clear the Seawing had the edge. It didn't take long for the Prince to pin him to the ground, sitting atop him triumphantly.

"There's no firebreathing in this room, Darkstalker," He said, as the Nightwing opened his mouth, "There's no mindreading or prophecy here, either, and the only dragon allowed to be an Animus is me. You have no power here."

"Okay, so what?" He demanded, looking Fathom up and down nervously, "You're going to beat the evil out of me? Hump me into submission?"

"That's one way to put it." With a single twitch of his talon, little pillars of the marble floor, binding Darkstalker's arms. Another formed an arch around his throat, loose enough to let him breathe and speak, but tight enough to keep him from squirming away.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" The Nightwing panicked, struggling against his bonds, "Fathom, stop! You don't have to do this!"

"Yes, I do," Fathom insisted, leaning in conspiratorially, "Clearsight told me so. She said that she had a vision of us, together like this. She said that in order to save everyone - yourself included - I had to, quote, 'Fuck the evil' out of you."

"What?!" Darkstalker snapped, incredulous. "Don't tell me you actually believe that!"

Fathom looked down, and smiled confidently. "I dunno," He replied, "I think you might be more into this plan than you let on."

Darkstalker looked down, and his eyes bulged. He hadn't even noticed himself getting hard, his shaft rapidly emerging from his slit. Worse yet, Fathom's own drakehood was also coming out, both mere millimeters from touching. The Nightwing's member was longer, but it was almost eclipsed by Fathom's chode. It was almost twice as wide as his own, with several ribbed bumps that could almost work as knots.

"Fathom," Darkstalker pleaded, "You can't expect me to take that! I've never had anything that bi- I mean I've never had anything go inside me before!"

"I know," Fathom agreed, stepping back, "Which is why I have to do this." The Seawing firmly grasped the Nightwing's rear, his thumb dangerously close to his vent. "I enchant this dragon," He intoned, "To be able to handle any dragon cock, no matter how big or thick. His vent will heal and return to proper shape no matter how far it's been stretched, will always be clean, and will only experience enough pain to make the pleasure even greater. He will enjoy being penetrated just as much as he enjoys penetrating."

There was a brief flow of power, almost akin to a static shock, and Darkstalker's eyes went wide. "You didn't!" He hissed indignantly, "You can't just turn a dragon gay just like that!"

"You say that like you weren't planning on doing worse to me," Fathom retorted, "Or my girlfriend. Or your girlfriend, for that matter. I didn't want to do this any more than you, but unlike you, I'm going to make sure you get to enjoy this."

With that, he rolled Darkstalker's hips, making sure his dick was aiming away from his body. Fathom lifted the Nightwing's leg up over his own hips, stretching him wide, giving him a full view of his friend's crotch. The Seawing's cock was a scale away from his vent, and yet he hesitated. This was the point of no return. Could he go through with this? Even if he was doing it for good reasons, even if he was saving his friend's soul, wouldn't this very act irreparably damn his own?

If this is what it takes to save him, He thought finally, Then I'll do it. I'll hate myself for it, but at least I'll be saving the world. Hopefully Indigo will understand. And maybe Darkstalker can forgive me, even if I can't forgive myself.

Mind made up, his drakehood rock-hard, and having prepped his friend, Fathom steeled himself. He leaned forward, pressing the tip of his dick against the Nightwing's virgin vent. He pressed harder, and after some resistance, the pucker parted open, and he slipped in. Fathom grunted in surprise, his claws digging deep into his friend's scaly hide as he went deeper and deeper. The Nightwing felt so warm, so tight, so... so good. He pressed onward, sliding further and further in until he felt his crotch rub against Darkstalker's own.

Darkstalker whimpered, struggling against his bonds to no avail. Fathom knew he could be... a lot. Even Indigo (not a small girl herself) had trouble the first time they got together, and had requested that he step up the foreplay before they got into it afterwards. Even now, he could see Darkstalker's belly bulge, his own member getting lifted up. The Nightwing's inner muscles squeezed every inch of him, amazingly tight but with just enough elasticity that he didn't have to worry about tearing anything.

Good, I can hilt him. He thought, exhaling. Now we can begin.

Fathom pulled back, his member slipping out. Darkstalker's eyes lit up briefly with hope and confusion, before Fathom rotated his rear, aiming his cock to the side. He thrusted back in, eliciting yelp from below.

"Try to relax," He suggested, "I'll try to make this quick."

"Easy for you to say!" Darkstalker snapped, "You're not the one with a tree up his ass!"

Fathom sighed, and started working on a rhythm. He thrusted in and out, in and out, slow and steady to give Darkstalker a chance to get used to his girth. The Nightwing gripped and squeezed his length, trying to resist and push back against him, but the longer the Seawing kept at it, the weaker the resistance became. Grunts became whimpers, and those whimpers became moans. His muscles began to relax, and Fathom began to speed up, slamming into his rump with a Plap-Plap-Plap!

Fathom growled, starting to allow himself to enjoy the tightness and warmth of his friend. As much as he didn't want to, he couldn't help but revel in the sensations. By The Deep, when was the last time he and Indigo fooled around? Surely it hadn't been before they arrived in the Kingdom of Night? That had been months ago! Had he been settling with just using his own paws and tongue this whole time? That must be why his friend was feeling so good - he was going on a three-month dry spell.

In time, Fathom began to sense Darkstalker tightening up again, and knew he was getting close. He pressed him harder into the ground, his expression focused and angry, his thick Seawing dick hammering into the Nightwing's vent while his freepaw rapidly pumped his partner's phallus. Darkstalker whined and moaned, his expression caught between agony and ecstasy.

"Fathom!" He sputtered between gasps and whines, "Stop! Please! I don't -mmf!- You can't -ahh!-"

"I can and I will!" Fathom growled, his crotch clapping against black cheeks. "I'm not doing this for me, Darkstalker! I'm doing this for Indigo. For Clearsight. For you, and the whole world. To save everyone and everything, I have to fuck the evil out of you!"

"But Fathom, I-!" He cried out, as the Seawing sped up. His hips bucked against those thrusts, a black liquid starting to leak out his tip. "Oh fuck, Fathom! I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum I'm gonna-!"

Darkstalker roared, as his orgasm struck him like an avalanche. His drakehood twitched in Fathom's paw, and a thick black liquid shot out. The concentrated evil of his soul splattered onto the stone floor, bubbling and steaming as it melted little pits, before evaporating and staining the white stone a dark gray. The Nightwing shook, rocked with pleasure, as the jets of essence went from black, to gray, to finally a clean, creamy white. Fathom paused, watching his friend's pleasure and the subtle changes that came over Darkstalker. He became limp, relaxed - not just from pleasure, but as if a great spiritual weight had been lifted. When the Nightwing looked at him, it was with a clarity and sobriety that he'd never seen in him before.

"...Fathom?" He asked.

The Seawing's eyes softened. "...I'm sorry," He said. Unable to stop himself, he took hold of Darkstalker's hips with both paws, and started thrusting, harder and faster than before. He wanted release. He needed release. Any reluctance he had for forcing himself upon the Nightwing was gone, his only thought and concern in satisfying himself. He growled and snarled, feeling the tension building in his loins, and he knew he was getting close.

"I'm sorry," He hissed, feeling himself pass the point of no return, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I..." He hilted himself deep in his friend's vent, gave a deep, blissful moan, and climaxed. The unfortunate (or fortunate) thing for Darkstalker was that Seawing drakes came hard, and in volume. Warm, potent spunk shot into him, pressing against his prostate, filling him up quickly and powerfully. By the third squirt, Fathom's essence was starting to leak out of his ass. By the sixth squirt, the Nightwing moaned rather lustfully, as he found himself cumming yet again.

After the better part of a minute, both drakes came down from their respective climaxes, panting and exhausted, but enjoying the tingly afterglow. Darkstalker's belly looked a little bloated, swollen with seed. Fathom pulled out, cum leaking out and covering his friend's rear and tail. He went to his side, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling just as he was struck with post-coital clarity.

By the Deep, what have I done? He thought guiltily, tears starting to form. I forced myself on my friend. I tricked him, trapped and betrayed him. I... I'm a ra-

"That was great," Darkstalker sighed, rolling to his side to look at him with a smug smirk, "Did you enjoy yourself at my expense?"

Fathom looked at him, confused. "You're... okay with all this?"

"Sure I am," He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Fathom stared back at him, incredulous. "Darkstalker... I raped you."

Darkstalker laughed, shaking his head. "No you didn't." He told him, and when he saw the Prince's confused look, he rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Fathom, I can see the future. You think I didn't see this moment happening? You think I didn't see you setting some Animus trap, capturing me and filling me with your tartar sauce? You think I'd let myself get into this situation if I wasn't the tiniest bit interested?"

"You... wanted this?"

"A few days ago," Darkstalker explained, "When Clearsight and I were having our fun, I saw myself flying here, and the two of us having that conversation. From there, the futures simplified to two outcomes. The first was that I cancelled out your enchantments, fucked you for hours, and brainwashed you into my lackey and personal bottom. The other..." He gestured to his rear, as more royal Seawing seed oozed out.

"Both futures show me something a part of myself I didn't know I had. By coming here, I'd either finally get you to listen to me, and we'd start conquering the world together... or I'd have all the evil in my soul removed, and I could live a happy life full of sex, love and happiness. A win-win scenario, as far as I'm concerned."

Fathom's lips twitched upward. "You mean it worked? I saved you?"

"You saved me," Darkstalker assured him, a paw caressing his face and gills, "You saved me, Fathom." With that, he pulled the Seawing in, and kissed him. After a moment's hesitation, Fathom returned the kiss, pulling him into an embrace. Still enjoying the afterglow, they pressed into each other as they made out, moaning as their sensitive members rubbed each other.

"W-wait," Fathom gasped after a time, pulling away to breathe even as Darkstalker continued licking his gills, "What, ohhh, what about our girlfriends? Ah, what if Indigo, mmph, finds out about this?"

Darkstalker chuckled, kissing his nose. "What do you think Clearsight's doing?" He pointed out, "She knew about this before I did. She set this all up, after all. My girlfriend saw us coming together in our best futures, and while you've been helping me with a little sexual healing, our girlfriends have been building some connections of their own. If I had to guess, our lovers are enjoying muzzlefuls of each other's muff, getting to know each other just as we are."

The Nightwing got up, straddling Fathom, their dicks pressing against each other. "Speaking of which," He continued, "I want to make you a deal. Since we're sharing each other just as our girlfriends, how'd you feel about sharing our girlfriends, too? Clearsight's taken a liking to you, and I bet Indigo would like me a lot more after I got to plow her a couple times."

"Darkstalker..." Fathom started to protest, but hesitated. Clearsight was beautiful, and with his postnut clarity, he realized he enjoyed her kiss just as much as he enjoyed Indigo's... or Darkstalker's for that matter.

"Tell you what," Darkstalker continued, sliding back, pressing the Seawing's member against his chest, "I'd be willing to let you free reign over my ass whenever you want, if you're up for it. I still prefer girls, of course, but you've convinced me that you're worthy of using me whenever you want. Who would've thought anal would feel so good?"

"Darkstalker..." Fathom couldn't help but watch as the Nightwing lowered his head down to the Seawing's cock. He met that gaze, and a wicked smirk grew across his muzzle. He opened his mouth, dragging his tongue along the underside. A drop of precum sputtered onto his tongue, and he swallowed.

"I see you need a little more convincing," He purred, "Allow me to present my argument." Before Fathom could say another word, he took his friend's drakehood into his mouth with one fluid motion. As his mind was filled with renewed lust, and all remaining walls of resistance fell, Fathom couldn't help but think a future with more of this couldn't be that bad... right?