Batman Cursing Novels & Stories

Why aren’t they working the way they are supposed to? I taste blood on my tongue from where I’ve been biting too hard in my lower lip. My magic power is running out. If I don’t want to resort to that, I need to finish this now! “Curse of poison. Curse of rot. Curse of internal bleeding. Curse of broken bones. Curse of pain…” I mutter so quickly under my breath that it becomes a reflex action. I keep going until I am sure he is dead then I stop.

With each step, his voice carried an undertone of anger and disappointment. "My Mano Bata, I entrusted you with the leadership of my army, I entrusted you with the governance of my kingdom. Yet, I returned to find my army without its general and my kingdom without its prince. Instead, I am met with whispers of betrayal and death, tales of deceit and scheming. Where are your brothers? Where is Vincent? What have you been up to, Adams?... Mano Beta," Lucian thundered, his anger escalating, his hand now pressing firmly against Adams's neck.

Doubt consumed me, my confidence waning. Lucian's eyes narrowed, his features contorting with a mixture of anger and disdain. The mention of his obedience and the curse that bound him struck a nerve, awakening the deep-seated resentment within him. He scoffed, his voice laced with sarcasm and bitter mockery. "Ah, the curse," he sneered, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "You think I enjoy being a puppet, forced to dance to your whims? I am not an obedient lapdog waiting for your order," he spat, his words dripping with contempt. The intensity of his defiance sent a pang of hurt through me, shattering the illusion of control I had clung to.

I scoffed, turning back to meet his gaze. "I hate the word 'cancelled'. It only sounds better when it comes from me." I tightened my grip on the bat and raised it. "And the worst mistake you could ever make in your life is spitting saliva on my face." "You..." he coughed blood, body trembling. "The only thing I wouldn't mind staining my face is blood. So let's have your blood splash all over it instead of your saliva." I raised the bat and slammed it into his face. His cries echoed through the hall. I didn't stop—stomping his skull with the bat, reveling in the melodious cries he made every time metal met bone.

I figured the chains on me are not locked by anything but where planted to the ground that it put me in a hollow. "This is it, sir!" He said. He collected the stick, it looks more like a batton but it is wooden. I know I am done for this end. If their hand is so heavy that I can't feel myself, then how would baton be? I could feel the terror of how painful it is without touching me. "Speak!" He yelled again before using the stick. "What is it that you want me to say?" I asked immediately knowing how painful and strenuous this would be.

” I teased and stuck my tongue out to annoy him which totally worked. “It’s still you, crazy vamp !!!!” Rob yelled. “Such a crappy Beta,” I murmured quietly but loud enough to infuriate my best friend. “Such a douche Dragon,” he snorted. “Such a crippled wolf,” I retorted back in the same tone as him. “Disgusting skunk” “Rabid dog” “Mad Monkey” “Ass’ hole” “Bull’s Shit” “Nick’s piss” “What the hell ?” Nick protested but we were too busy fighting right now to bother about Nick and were neck deep in the competition of who would hurl hurting curses faster and better.

His lips tighten as he takes a confused step back. “Don’t you know how to curse, little brother?” I ask tauntingly, “Well, let me help you. How about you say, Lucifer, you’re such a fucking git. Or, Lucifer, why are you such a bloody arsehole? Just pick one.” I mutter. Michael snickers, “It wouldn’t be a lie, frère. I especially take pride in calling you a douchebag.” Rafael throws his head back and laughs, “Or ye can call him a dobber?”

Shit! "Damn it!" Aristotle panicked after seeing Grunt's impression. Grunt would cry at any moment. "You're done, Aristotle! You're making ROBIN's son cry." mockery of Sin. "I'm s-sorry for curses," His eyes glow while saying that. They really emphasize the name ROBIN. I stared at them.

I snap out of the hold when he doesn’t release it. Letting my own chains fall. “Or should I say monster? You nikka,” posers, impostors, fakes, “say that it takes a scarier monster to face the evils of this world. The only scurge I see is you, Bunta.” weak, talent less little bitch. Chobo or Chaba is similar, but it’s more like calling someone a moron in a sweet way rather than a deceptive little cunt like bunta or bunto is. “Creta.” Tripp lunges, calling me the next most insulting word to chervil there is.

“Serene! Why won’t you help your own blood?!” My roar split the night in two, tearing from my throat like something feral and wounded. The sound echoed across the clearing, flung back at me by the indifferent sky. I glared up at the swollen moon until my vision swam, my fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. “I shouldn’t have to suffer for a curse you let happen! I shouldn’t be the one punished for your mistakes!”