#[this has some Stuff in it so be mindful before you read]

[flamingpudding]

The first part of this Au that I went out with so funny thank you for answering it I hope you were able to rest and stuff but anywho

I feel like after those first two parts I feel like RedRobin and Batman have questions about the Ghost King and Vlad relationship like they're asking questions

And the Klarions / Phantom children and the kids keep just dropping he with to college with our mom's parents, he would take kidnap mom and locked him in a basement, he's legally mom's godfather, he tried to marry grandmother on multiple occasions

I just feel like Dan anytime he gets the moment gets mad at him and goes like until you pay the 8.5 million you owe mom in child support is the day that you can call me your son ectoplasm donor.

Also I would find it so funny if outside of their Klarion thing they live with Vlad time from time again when Danny is overwhelmed or need someone to watch over them and the the rest of the people he's friends with in the Infinite Realms can't do it and are friends with the Wayne children

I feel like Duke will be having a heart attack when you realizes that he goes the same high school class as Dan or that Ellie and Dick best friends back when they were children for funsies

Also the reveal of Teekls has never been a cat it's going to get on doctor fate's nerves cuz he knows damn well that things never been a cat also I feel like all of them have the power to rip Dr Fate out of whoever he's possessing body and always he's pulling that power on him anytime they get the chance

Also a review of the fact that Teekl has never been a cat until when like Batman or Red Robin pov

Have I ever mentioned I love your ideas and how fun they are? Cause damn this had me laughing while reading it already.

Also glad the first two parts were still fun despite the mishaps that happed while writing :D

Also I skipped over the Teekl Part for the moment since I didn't know how to tie it in at the moment...

Sooooo anyway.... here we go again~ (sorry if its a bit short...)

Part 1 Part 2

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

Red Robin was intrigued, worried and on several levels suspicious as he watched the interaction between the ones that had been Klarion, the current Klarion and Vlad Masters. He had also a lot of questions, he really wanted answers to but for now he held back.... partially. Vlad Masters was a contact Batman had brought in when the situation with the Demon became more dangerous than they originally expected.

John Constantine had mentioned they would need a even stronger force to really drive that Demon back and off handedly mentioned that something like an Ancient or a Ghost King would be needed. And wouldn't you know, Batman knew someone that claimed to have contacts with a Ghost King or rather THE Ghost King. And as luck would have it, Vlad Masters was in Gotham because of one of his relentless attempts at striking a business deal with Bruce Wayne. (That really had been an unexpected luck but by now Red Robin was also suspecting something else was at play.... [Like a bored Ancient of Time])

Well either way now he was watching, just a step behind his mentor, how Batman was grilling Vlad Masters on his relations to the Ghost King, since apparently they (the hero's assembled) wouldn't need to do anything anyway since the Ghost King was handling the demon threat. Red Robin did realise that not all heroes present were convinced but what else could they do but wait right now? Since according to Klarion their Mom aka the Ghost King was already dealing with the situation.

So with that happening, the well known bat-paranoia, curiosity, suspicion and need to know every good damn detail of a situation arose full force. Not that Red Robin minded, as mentioned before, he had a lot of questions too. Plus he wasn't so sure if the other Heroes had caught it but there were some disturbing things Klarion and is siblings sort of dropped that really needed clearing up.

While Batman was grilling Vlad Masters, Red Robin listened in but then decided to his own sort of questioning with Klarion, the current one.

"So... you called Vlad Masters 'old man'? And your suit is in the 'old man's style'?" the question was asked directly to the current Klarion. Since they were apparently here just to watch Red robin was sure he could just try having a sort of civil talk with his questions.

Klarion on the other hand grumbled crossing his arms, before uncrossing them again to pet the demon cat on his shoulder. "I just went with his dumb vampire look but more fancy and classic and less insane colouring."

The arched eyebrow stayed sort of hidden under his mask but it was there and Red Robin knows that tone Klarion used. It's the same Red Hood has when he begrudgingly admit do doing something the way Batman would. Which raises the a question he already had on his mind, how he could interpret Klarions use of 'old man'. Which would give Batman even more incentive to question Vlad Masters on his relation to the Ghost King. Also for now he was going to ignore the 'dumb vampire look' part, but he did note it down in his mind for later.

"Vlad Masters is your 'old man'?" There probably was a way to ask a little more subtle or nice but they were waiting for the Ghost King to beat up a Demon and he was making small talk with subtitle questioning with Klarion. So sue him for being blunt after all. Also the face Klarion was making right after he said.

"Well Far Frozen gets a hot summer." Was the instant reply and Red Robin blinked unter his mask. There probably was some information he was missing behind that reply.

"Ew no! He wishes though. But Vlad is like double or triple our Mom's age! He even went to collage with Grandpa Jack and Grandma Maddie!" Misrule suddenly interjected apparently done pestering Nightwing as she leaned over Klarion, resting her head on his and causing Teekl to hiss at her. Well that certainly got his attention now and with the way he saw, form the corner of his eyes, Batmans head wipe their way and then back at Vlad Masters it certainly also got his mentors.

"He wishes...? Triple your Moms.... age? The Ghost King?" His mental information board was getting more and more chaotic with the information he was getting.

"He acts like we are his kids and has a right to be called Dad by us." Misrule shrugged dismissively to which Klarion growled, he growled! Red Robin was tempted to check his ears because this was the first time he heard Klarion growl towards his sister.

"The day I call your DNA and my ecto donor anything with the context of father is the day he pays Mom the millions of child support he owns him and additional pays for emotional and physical distress." Okay, Red Robin was not ashamed to say he did a double take at Klarions growl and the fact that several alarm bells went off hin his mind with that one sentence alone.

"Mom has his own castle and riches from the previous King. Not like we would actually need that money. Plus Vlad does pay for your school tuition." Misrule answered her brother, complete ignoring the fact that Red Robin was having a mental crisis and thinking that Vlad Masters might even be an even greater threat, then just a weird and suspicious potential business partner and that the reason he has a summoning stone for the Ghost King might be a custody thing regarding Klarion and his siblings.

So with all these things what did Red Robins brain decide to focus on? "Vlad Masters pays your school tuition? No wait you go to school?"

There was an awkward moment Red Robin received two very similar looking deadpan stares from Klarion and Misrule, the first Klarion.

"Of course I go to fucking school Mom would kill... well no thermos ground me if I didn't." Another drop of information Red Robin didn't know how to handle, what the hell does 'thermos ground' even mean? Was that like their version of grounding?

"Oh isn't today like a school night?" Misrule suddenly piped up pinching her brothers check and Red Robin felt weirdly reminded of some of the interactions he used to have with his siblings. It was strange to see Klarion like that.

"Shit... I forgot to do my part of my group project with Duke..." Klarion grumbled and Red Robin did a double take once more, blinking several times as there was a very very important information drop here, his head snapped towards Nightwing in hopes that the other had also caught it and thankfully, he had and while Signal wasn't present at the moment because he had done day patrols already and had been barely awake anyway when this whole Demon mess started.... they had gotten a hint of figuring out Klarions identity, they were certainly going to use later.

For now they had some more red flags to investigate in regards to the relation of Vlad Masters, the Ghost King, Klarion and Klarion's siblings.

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

Little Bonus (Next day after Demon Crisis):

"Hey Duke, who are you working with in a group project?"

"Huh oh that is Dante Masters-Nightingale."

"Masters-Nightingale? As in Vlad MASTERS?"

"Yeah, that what he said his temporary guardian's name is that pays for his schooling."

"Wait didn't I go with Danielle Nightingale-MASTERS to school too? We were like besties in school!"

"Oh god...."

"Tim, you okay you look very pale. Are you okay? Dick too..."

"BRUCE! VLAD MASTERS NEEDS TO BE PUT ON THE RED WATCH LIST AND WE NEED TO TALK WITH THE GHOST KING ASAP!"

#dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #crossover #tim drake #dan phantom #ellie phantom #dick grayson #Klarion is a title passed down like Robin #Ellie was the first Klarion #Dan is the current Klarion #Tim wants answers #he is trying to question Klarion using small talk #there are a lot of red flags in his opinion #oh the misunderstandings.... #Mom Danny #Ghost King Danny #His kids need to learn to not info drop without explanations #poor Vlad he might be a redeemed man but the bats will still put him on the red watch list #Part 3

[ovaryacted]

STORY OF US | CH. 2 - RISKS

PAIRING: DI! Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: A normal Friday night out for drinks with your mentor. What could possibly go wrong?

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. Canon-adjacent. DSO Mentor/mentee dynamic. Forbidden work relationship. Age gap (Leon is 38, reader is 25). Reader has their own background & lore. Leon & reader have an established working relationship of 4 years (nothing was done until later). Eventual smut. Drinking. Flirting. Smooching. (Sorry to the French, you got lashings from me oops).

WC: 5.8K

A/N: This chapter was a pain to write, but I'm just glad it's done. Had to reupload it because Tumblr is stupid. Thank you to @notrattus for beta-reading this again, hugs and kisses. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3

Dim lighting and mellow music surround you in the local bar downtown. It was a place you often frequented after work, along with other D.S.O. agents from time to time. The space was quaint, the drinks were cheap, and the additional comfort of coming with a familiar face made the night easygoing. You noticed the group of rookie agents that crowded the pooltable towards the back of the bar, their boisterous laughter filled the room with a lively energy that was desperately needed after today’s events.

“Seems like they’re having fun,” you muttered under your breath, sipping away at your second bottle of beer. Leon sat next to you, glancing over his shoulder to peek at the group of agents off to the side, most of them acting like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“Some of them are being too friendly with each other, don’t you think?” He gestured his head towards the opposite side of the room, lining his lips with his bottle of non-alcoholic beer.

“Now you know that’s none of our business. They’ll go home, forget what happened, and fight two days later. Let them have their fun while they can,” you said with a breathy laugh, Leon following you after.

Seeing the young rookies messing around brought a feeling of envy, silently wishing you had that experience. The ability to explore and socialize with others was a privilege you didn’t have when you were younger, a result of both your sheltered childhood and the premature start of your career in government service. It wasn’t in the cards for you, deemed “off limits” the moment you were put into federal custody as a teenager, and later extended once you were Leon’s responsibility.

In this life, you had limited opportunities to think of anything other than work, so whenever there was a breakthrough, you held on to it tightly until you had a chance to break free. Leon eyed you quietly as you sat deep in thought, having half a mind to figure out what you were contemplating.

“Wish you could join in, huh?” He asked curiously.

“Nah, that ship has sailed long ago,” you shrugged, motioning to the bartender that you were ready for another drink.

Already down two beers, you craved something stronger, ordering a whiskey on the rocks, Johnnie Walker Black. You watched as the bartender poured the amber liquid into a glass, handing it to you with a wink before tending to the other patrons waiting for service. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you took a light sip of the drink, humming at the silky taste of malt with notes of vanilla and honey gracing your tongue. Like a portal back in time, you were 22 again with your mentor giving you a lesson in “real drinking”, his voice ringing in your head as he introduced you to one of your vices.

 “This is a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black. If you want something cheap and smooth that does the job, this will do it. You won’t find a bar that doesn’t have this on hand, and if they don’t move, to another.”

“I’ve been out with you enough times that I got used to the calm nights. Rowdy stuff isn’t for me anymore. Sometimes though, I catch myself thinking about it all, the what ifs, not that it matters really,” you swallowed another sip along with your pride. Being sheltered from the outside world meant sacrificing life experiences you believed you were deserving of, including relationships and dating. It was the price you had to pay for being the D.S.O’s prodigy.

“You’re telling me they kept you cooped up for so long you didn’t have time for anything? Not even dating?” Leon wondered, recalling when he first received your file in his hand, how much you resembled a government lapdog more than he ever did.

“Relationships are kind of hard to maintain when you look and act like you’ll rip someone’s head off any moment." Chuckling bitterly at the question, you looked directly into your glass and swirled the liquid around absentmindedly, the soft clinks of the ice cubes pulling you into a trance.

“Not something that’s been on my priority list. Gotta stay focused on the job, on getting things done. You know better than anyone that relationships are a distraction at most, a big liability.” You met Leon’s eyes for a second and returned to pick at the polished wooden countertop of the bar.

Truthfully, you were reiterating things that have been drilled into your head for as long as you could remember. It was how you adapted to manage the world around you. Remaining focused on your role and position, never venturing off too far from the norm, always following the grain. That was what you knew. It made sense, committing yourself to your duty and leaving little room for anything else in your life was what the D.S.O demanded of you, to keep you rooted in the status quo they’ve built centered around their goals for the organization.

Deep down, you wanted an intimate bond but felt too intimidated to get into one. You wished to feel another body’s warmth but were deemed too closed off to experience it. You wanted to feel the touch of another person beyond obligation but assumed it wasn’t worth your attention. You believed that you couldn’t want more because you were never given a chance to explore it. That may have been something you wanted, but it was easier to shut the idea out and pretend not to care about the emptiness you felt in your chest.

Leon knew what that felt like, that mentality had been his truth for so long that he thought he was a lost cause.

“It doesn’t have to be like that, not forever anyway,” he told you, trying to lift your spirits despite knowing there was some truth to what you confessed.

“You’re talking to someone that has been in a legal guardianship for years. Trust me, I don’t have the luxury of keeping relationships like that,” you stated, glimpsing again toward the newbies to see some of them kissing and placing bets, cheering loudly with drinks in their hands. You blocked out the noise, swallowing the rest of your liquor in one gulp, hissing at the slight burn of the whiskey going down your throat.

“It’s fine either way, not necessarily a bad thing in my eyes. Just how it is.” You called for the bartender again, getting another refill on your drink. In the back of his mind, Leon was probably growing worried, but he knew better than to tell you how to enjoy your night. This will be your last one, keeping your promise of lightening up on the alcohol tonight.

Witnessing the rookies socialize was a painful reminder of what you could never have. It bothered you, and while you kept it to yourself, Leon caught on to your train of thought. The years that you lost to your job made it difficult to look forward to anything beyond fighting bioweapons, if you managed to live long enough to get a different outcome. The flings you did partake in were enough to release some physical tension and keep you busy, but they were nothing substantial or worth remembering.

“That’s how you put yourself in this mindset. You believe that it’s how it needs to be, not realizing that it doesn’t have to be like that at all,” Leon replied, wanting you to understand that you deserved more, even if he doesn’t think the same for himself. 

“Really? Then tell me Mr. Casanova, why haven’t you settled down yet?” You asked him now, the alcohol kicking into your system and clearing any filter you had, which was already zero to none.

You knew he meant well, he always did, but flipping the inquiry back to him was a way to deflect and change the subject. You didn’t want to be the center of attention, much less your love life to be the main topic of the conversation, this way it was easier to run from the truth.

“How come I never see you with someone? You are reaching that age,” you squinted in his direction.

“Are you calling me old?” Leon scoffed at what you were implying.

“Nope, just saying you’re reaching settling down on a ranch with 3 kids and a dog age. No biggy.” You threw your hands up in fake innocence, lips curling into a grin.

“Hmmm, a ranch doesn’t sound too bad…” His expression matched your own, giving you a glance out of the corner of his eye to catch the way yours rolled back. 

“Yeah yeah, can you focus back on my question now?” You lightly shoved him on the arm. 

“I just never found someone I wanted to date, someone who shares my interests, who can be by my side through thick and thin. Someone I can call my best friend and partner. That’s why. Oh, and there is the fact that the D.S.O keeps me busy so I’m too preoccupied saving the world and what-not,” he finishes his speech with another sip of his non-booze.

“Oh, you want the whole package? Mr. Kennedy with his set list of qualifications. I didn’t expect anything less from you,” you snickered at him, drinking more of your whiskey in the process.

“You may be busy but that doesn’t mean you don’t fool around no? Cmon, you can tell me. I’m a big girl, I can handle the drama,” poking at him for fun, you grew curious to know more about Leon’s love life if he had one. The conversation started to flow better, on par with the alcohol that coursed through your veins.

“Maybe,” Leon didn’t react much to you, casually nursing his bottle with a smug smile. He was having fun watching how you behaved when you were on the brink of being tipsy, gasping out in playful shock at his confession. After all, toying with you was one of his favorite pastimes.

“Are you fucking serious? This feels scandalous.” Dramatic in your response, you smacked Leon’s arm as you couldn’t wipe the smirk off of your face.

“Never would’ve anticipated that from you. You don’t give me those vibes.” You joked more with him, not taking his reply seriously considering it was something so farfetched you didn’t see it as reality. Your mentor and your friend, sleeping around, who would’ve thought? Well, many would have, he was a grown man who had free will. 

“Maybe you should’ve,” he said, his face lighting up at the banter. “You don’t think I need a little fun in my life now and then? I have needs too,” he teased you back, finding your lack of ability to believe him amusing.

“Frankly, I thought you didn’t have it in you to speak to women in the first place. Now I’ve been proven wrong. I’ve known you for 4 damn years and I’m just now figuring this out? Unbelievable.” Dumbfounded at this new revelation, you shook your head with another chuckle.

“But hey, I don’t blame you. You get yours, at least someone has to," finishing your whiskey, you tapped your nails alongside the glass. You were given the chance to see two sides of Leon that were usually hidden from most people, his professional side that was more reserved, and this friendly side that was only accessible to those very close to him, you being one of them. 

“And who’s to say that you haven’t done anything either?” His grin widened more, not needing much to know that you had your fair share of fun over the past couple of years, but that was merely speculation.

“Now you’re trying to flip the script on me? That’s mean,” catching on to his tricks, the conversation began to deviate into unfamiliar territory.

“Besides, that’s for me to know and for you to never find out,” you turned to face him completely with a playful pitch in your voice.

Leon observed you, fully taking you in, and for the second time since he’d met you, he really saw you. The way your silhouette curved as you leaned into the bar, your arm bending at the elbow to prop your head up and look at him with a mischievous smirk on your face, and your eyes. God your eyes. Just the slightest bit hazy as you hit the precipice of being inebriated, focused only on him.

You looked pretty.

The thought came into his head one second and out the next, instantly taking a larger sip of his lukewarm beverage to wash it down and tuck it into the recesses of his mind where it was safe. He wished he could drink something stronger, but non-alcoholic beer will have to suffice for now.

“Oh really? Are you hiding something from me? You have that twinkle in your eye,” he didn’t mean for it to come off as flirty, but if you were paying enough attention you would’ve caught it anyway. You did.

“I don’t know, am I? You tell me, Leon,” you contested as if this were some sort of game, reciprocating his prior tone. The energy between the two of you was shifting into something new, something unfamiliar. 

Messing around with other D.S.O. agents was almost frowned upon, but that didn’t mean it never happened, nor did the rules stop anyone from breaking them in the first place. Neither of you ever flirted with each other before, didn’t even remotely think about it when you were in the same room together. The relationship you had was strictly professional and platonic, a bond that took years of trust to develop. Yet all of a sudden, it felt like you were both charting into the unknown.

Leon raised an eyebrow at you, not believing what he was hearing for a moment. His head tilted to the side as he analyzed your expressions, trying to get a read on you and predict where your head was at.

“You are, aren’t you?” His gaze flicked over your figure for the faintest second before focusing on your face again. You caught that too.

Leon was older than you, with more experience under his belt than most of his peers. He was your supervisor, your teacher, and someone who has been taking care of you, making sure you made it out of every mission alive and in one piece. He shouldn’t be entertaining this, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop. It felt exciting, something he never thought he would even consider.

“Maybe,” you mimicked his earlier comeback, mirroring the tilt of his head. You stared at him, no doubt noticing the curiosity in his eyes and how he was left wondering for more. He always saw you as someone he admired, someone he trusted and could work well with. Now? The lines that were put in place to pre-define your role in his life never looked so gray.

“I said I don’t do relationships. That doesn’t mean I don’t do other things.” Your words grew more suggestive as the exchange progressed, the tension becoming palpable between the two of you for the very first time.

“What other things do you do?” Leon didn’t even try to suppress his interest, wanting an answer to something he shouldn’t be concerned with. He’s considered it way back when, thought about how you engaged with other agents in the D.S.O., if you allowed them to get close enough. Whether it was in a professional manner or more, that was for him to figure out.

“I think you know Leon,” you toyed with him, unintentionally seducing him and leaving much to the imagination. You were enjoying this, and you knew you shouldn’t be. Messing around with your mentor and friend of all people? Sure, it might bite you in the ass later on, but you didn’t want it to end.

“What? Did you think I was a saint?” You asked him then, the rhetorical question throwing Leon in for a loop. 

Were you a saint? He found himself genuinely thinking about it, sitting in silence and letting your words hang in the air. His mind went blank, at least in terms of dialogue, but internally he was fighting every sudden urge to picture you in a completely different light. He was reading your body language, your personal morse code, a language he’s studied for years now left him in the dark for misinterpretation. His resolve was cracking, and his growing attraction to you filled his body with an electric rush he couldn’t brush off.

It scared the shit out of him.

“No…” Leon replied, not knowing why that was what slipped out of his mouth but it was the first thing that came to mind. 

“So I’m not a saint?” Another hypothetical question, the truth is you were far from that. In your youth, you used to be a fairly reckless person, getting around without caring much about the consequences of your actions. It was the only thing you felt you had control over, so in an act of rebellion, you indulged in it whenever you could. As you got older, your antics diminished, when really, you just got more selective about who you picked for a good time.

“Then what am I?” You challenged him, leaning a bit closer with this tantalizing energy that was never directed towards Leon up until this point. He’s seen you use your sweet talking for missions where you were undercover in rare instances, considering you didn’t enjoy flirting for the sake of getting information. He wondered about what the men who have been in his place must’ve thought of you, if their perception matched his. 

You didn’t know if you were being intentional with your flirting or if you were simply bored and riding the current wave of entertainment. This was fun to you, a game of sorts, but it was bad enough that you liked this. Openly flirting with your mentor who was 13 years your senior shouldn’t make you feel this buzzed, and yet the guilt seemed to be the last of your concerns.

Your words were the equivalent of pouring gasoline on a small flame that had just begun. Everything in you was enticing, and Leon felt heat rising in his whole being, a reaction he hadn’t felt in a while, a feeling he thought was long gone.

“Definitely not a saint,” he expressed with another airy chuckle. You were taunting him, and he was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he was falling for it.

You decided to back off after that, now both at a standstill and staring at each other rather intensely. There was an unspoken tension between you, the air thick with desire and want, something that neither of you should feel for each other. You could blame it on the alcohol, or on the fact that it’s been a while since you did anything intimate with another person. But at the moment, flirting with the man in front of you was like taking a bite out of a forbidden fruit. Humming at his comment, you pulled away.

“Perhaps you’re right,” you sounded nonchalant, thinking it was best to call it a night instead of feeding into whatever this was.

“I think that’s enough drinking for me. Do you want to give me a ride home? Considering you’re the sober one here.” It was another regular thing he did to ease his mind, ensuring you got home safely after a night out. Currently, it felt like another excuse to be near him for longer than you should be.

Leon’s face felt hot when you pulled away from him. What the hell was he doing? He had a moment of clarity and he knew this was a mistake. It was too late to do anything now because a seed had been planted despite neither of you wanting to acknowledge it.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a ride home.” He took the first step and paid the tab, walking out of the bar with you behind him. His hand itched to hold yours, but he kept that to himself as the two of you trekked into the night and towards his parked jeep.

The drive back to your place was quiet as a gentle numbness washed over you from your copious drinking, leaning into the passenger’s seat to watch the city landscape of D.C. pass by through the window. The attraction you felt towards Leon was still there, bubbling alongside the beating in your chest like a drum, but you knew opening Pandora’s box would lead to unwanted destruction. It was safer to not address it, to bury it so far into the ground it could never be recovered again. As you pulled into the driveway of your apartment building, Leon put the Jeep in park, stopping in the front.

“Thank you for the ride and the drinks. I needed it after today,” the softness in your features returned as the corner of your lips turned upwards.

“It’s no problem,” Leon returned your smile. He hadn’t felt this way in a while, especially not towards you. He probably shouldn’t have said the next thing he blurted out, but he took a chance and threw caution to the wind.

“You know, you can invite me up if you want.” He wasn’t expecting you to accept, internally cringing and preparing to recoil from shooting himself in the foot. 

“Invite you up for what? Coffee?” You read between the lines to understand his intentions. Despite the nagging voice you heard screaming out yes, the voice of reason was playing tug of war with the little devil on your shoulder. “Are you hearing yourself right now?”

Leon was nervous. His heart was racing, the ignored sense of responsibility started to creep up on him no matter how hard he suppressed it. You were tipsy, and you two were not close enough to start that kind of relationship.

Or were you?

“Yeah, coffee?” He sported the faintest smirk he could muster. He didn’t know where his head was at or going for that matter, a battlefield with rationality and impulsivity grappling for control.

If you squint hard enough, you’d spot the apprehension in Leon’s eyes, paired with the subdued longing hidden in his blue irises. You knew better than to say yes, but the alcohol in your system clouded your judgment.

“Fine, coffee. But you’re only having one cup, you take enough as it is.”

Stepping out of his car and walking ahead of him, Leon’s presence loomed behind you, like a shadow you couldn’t escape from. This was nothing new, he’s been in your apartment a few times, the same way you’ve been in his for brief moments. The motives for doing so varied; more intensive mission debriefs, wellness checks, grocery drop-offs, and mostly to steal more coffee. 

The circumstances of having him come over this time were fairly different, you both felt it. But you remained colleagues and close friends, nothing more. As you unlocked the front door, you tossed the keys in the console table at the entryway and moved into the kitchen, putting some much needed distance between you and Leon.

“What flavor of coffee do you want? I have hazelnut, caramel, toffee nut, you name it.” You listed out his options to him, watching him from the corner of your eye as he leaned against a kitchen counter not too far from you.

“I’ll take hazelnut,” he ordered, observing you as you busied yourself with making the drinks. It felt selfish, raking his greedy eyes over you like you were his for the taking. It was as subtle as it could be, and he was aware being here in the first place was enough to constitute a bad idea. Since he was already in your apartment, he might as well indulge. 

“Where do you think the mission is taking place? I wonder what European country got on the D.S.O.'s radar this time.” Your voice broke the awkward silence in the kitchen, not wanting to deal with the stillness. In spite of being calm, your skin felt feverish, focused on the coffee that started to brew into the pot.

Leon remained quiet. At first, it was just his sight wandering over your body in full attention. Then it was his thoughts, visualizing things he shouldn’t, things about you. And now, it was how he was feeling, a craving for you that was gnawing at him with every passing second. He cleared his throat and forced himself to shift gears to find a suitable answer to your question.

“I don’t know honestly, probably some northern European country.” He hoped his answer would suffice, coming up with it off the top of his head.

“Well, I just hope it isn’t France. God knows it’s always something about the damn French getting their noses into something.” You kept the conversation going while your mind raced. You were never like this, especially not near Leon. Anxious and scared weren’t part of your character, rather you were confident to the point of bordering on arrogant and cocky.

You were out of your element.

Once the coffee was done brewing, you handed Leon a mug, pivoting to face him for the first time in the past 10 minutes.

“Are you trying to say that French people tend to be nosey?” Leon was sarcastic as he spoke, but it seemed to work in his favor. The shift in humor brought your relationship dynamic back to normal, at least for the time being. You two were back to what you have always been, friends and colleagues. Friends and colleagues…friends and colleagues. Those words ran through his head like a mantra. It was a last-ditch effort to repress the silly crush he’d been harboring for a while, and now it felt all too real.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” You sipped your coffee, slanting off a counter opposite to Leon, close enough to face him with adequate space to maintain your boundaries. It felt normal between you, as friends and partners. And in the gaps of your sanity, you imagined being with Leon in a way that was far from friendly. You took another larger gulp of coffee, the buzz from the caffeine waking you up and you hoped it would bring you to your senses.

“That was probably a bad French joke,” you mumbled after some time. Comedy was never your strongest suit, that was more of Leon’s thing.

“I’m sure the French wouldn’t appreciate being mocked, they don’t take kindly to that sort of thing,” he finished his coffee and placed the mug down on the countertop.

“I’m sure they’d cut my head off, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” You were also running on empty, taking both cups to wash them in the sink and place them in the dish rack.

“I’m tired now,” Leon declared, the atmosphere had calmed, and the prior interactions in the bar were long forgotten.

“You’re tired? The coffee didn’t do its job?” You glared at him with a credulous look, arms crossing over your chest.

“Maybe you should go home, get some rest, and enjoy the weekend,” you suggested, not wanting him to leave just yet, to relish what was left of the moment and escape reality.

“The coffee did its job. I’m just tired, been a long day.” He stood up straight from the counter, reading the room and recognizing it was his time to leave. “Talk to you on Monday then?”

“Yeah, talk to you Monday.” You confirmed with Leon, catching the way he looked at you a few seconds longer than expected.

You counted every step he took toward your apartment door, the back of his head disappearing as he went into the entryway. It was impulsive, it was stupid, probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever thought of doing in your 25 years of living. But right now, you could give less of a shit about morality and commitments. 

“Leon…” You called out to him, your feet moving before you could stop them. He had one hand on the door handle, just about to open it when he stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice.

Bringing your face closer to Leon’s, you placed a light kiss on his lips, one that was short and sweet, just enough to test your wavering limits. You did it without thinking, without knowing if it would ruin your friendship, but you threw reason completely out of the window. Once the kiss happened, Leon was taken aback by it. He stood rigid, short-circuiting at the brief feel of your soft mouth against his.

He wanted more. He needed more. 

“I shouldn’t have…” He heard you starting to talk, ending your worries right then and there with a hand on your waist and meshing his lips with yours without a second thought. You reciprocated the next instance, your hands curling into the material of his leather jacket, bringing him closer than he’d ever been.

“This is so stupid,” you murmured, kissing him again as if you couldn’t get enough. You tasted the sweetness of the hazelnut coffee he just drank, the coffee you made him in your apartment. You longed for more of his touch, craved it, could drown in it for all you cared. “Please tell me I’m stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” he said in between kisses, igniting the new flame of passion in your foyer. A thrill of pleasure ran through him, wrapping a thick arm around your body to press you into him, standing chest to chest. “I’m stupid too,” he mumbled, his voice a little muffled, moving one of his hands to hold your soe jaw in place, not wanting to part from you.

“So damn stupid,” you kept trying to talk to him, getting lost in the feeling of his plush mouth moving over yours in a succinct rhythm. You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be kissing your mentor and your friend, shouldn’t be kissing someone that had so many years accounted for in both age and life experience.

How could something so wrong feel so good?

“We shouldn’t be doing this…” Your defenses crumbled with every press of his mouth, moving back a step as Leon pinned you against the wall. His hips rubbed into yours as he held you in place with a hand on your hip, a low groan escaping him at the contact.

“I know,” he whispered to you. He wasn’t listening to you, wasn’t listening to logic that was usually found in his level-headed psyche. He was hearing what he wanted to hear, the voices that told him to kiss you, to touch you, to claim you as his like he had wanted for so long.

He was addicted to you, wanting to consume you whole after starving for so damn long. He deepened the kiss to make room for his tongue, stroking yours in affectionate swirls. His hands moved from your shoulders to trace down the curve of your spine and caress your denim-clad thigh, thick fingers kneading at your body and giving you an experimental squeeze.

The kiss got more heated as Leon devoured every hum and sigh he could pull from you, chasing the taste of your coffee with his tongue. You moaned into him when his touch roamed to grab a handful of your ass, your fingers running through his blonde hair to keep him in place. Neither of you were thinking straight or concerned about the aftermath of what may follow after these turn of events. The adrenaline from the impulsivity was wearing off and anxiety was barging through you fast enough to give you whiplash. 

“Leon,” with a gasp of his name and a huff of your breath you shoved him away, seeking purchase on the wall. You didn’t want to stop, but you had to before things went too far. You held his gaze with his blown pupils, lips plump and tingling, your cheeks warm to the touch at what transpired.

“You should probably go,” you conveyed a shaky voice, not wanting to upset him but this decision was for the best.

Leon caught his bearings, left speechless by the recklessness of your mutual actions. The actualization of what occurred was starting to sink in, scrutinizing you with a look of confusion and his heart beating so fast he could feel it in his throat.

He wanted this to continue, wanted to hold you close and taste you again and again, wanted time to stop so this could be your new normal. He realized you were making the right decision, the one he should be making as your mentor.

“You’re right, I should go.” His breathless voice swayed as he talked. Reaching for the doorknob of your front door again, he opened it to take one step over the threshold of your apartment.

“I’ll see you Monday?” A short question, one that suggested more than what was asked. It was a silent code for you, to check in to see if you were on good terms with one another, to find out if this night ruined everything that’s been built over the past 4 years.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Monday.” It was a dry response, but it was good enough. He looked back at you one more time, feeling the need to say more than just that, but he said nothing.

Leon stepped outside and shut the door behind him, his hands going to his sides and fantasizing what could’ve been, what could still be if the circumstances were different. He may have left your home, but the feelings he had for you did not. He just had to hope time would heal it, that the yearning would eventually go away, that this improper crush would cease to haunt him.

You stood there with your feet planted into the hardwood floor, staring at the closed door as your mind played catch up. You couldn’t make sense of it, of what just happened between you and the man you held in such high regard. Your gut fluttered and your body throbbed, a fervency you haven’t felt in the past few weeks flourishing when that was the last thing you wanted. You shook your head to yourself, running a hand through your hair and releasing a quivering exhale.

What did I just get myself into?

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fan fiction #resident evil x reader #ovaryacted fics #fic: story of us #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆ #dividers by saradika-graphics

[jinwoosungs]

{ 161 }

the dark knight.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

you had just started out as a hunter when you were introduced to a tall man donned entirely in dark armor; a man who was shockingly hidden from within the depths of your shadow.

being labeled as an a-rank hunter, you had some skills, being highly proficient in using a weapon that you had spent most of your life perfecting, training with it ever since you first awakened as a hunter.

and by some miracle, you were accepted into an extremely well-known guild:

ahjin guild, ran by the famous sung jinwoo himself.

his story was nothing short of a miracle; a once weak, e-ranked hunter somehow managing to gain strength by unknown means, rising up the ranks with ease before quickly being labeled as the world's strongest hunter within what seemed like mere months.

unfortunately, you recall your own conference and introduction to the scene being lackluster in comparison, with your eyes remaining bright with hope as you spoke with some confidence during your interview. you promised your nation to use your strength as a sole means to protect those who could not defend themselves, earning a polite, round of applause from the audience.

you remember that day vividly, trailing your eyes across the crowd before your gaze landed on someone who stood out the most to you.

glowing, purple eyes were shining with amusement, and his applause actually seemed genuine the more he looked at you. even when you had caught him staring at you, he never once looked away from you.

and it was more than enough to make your whole body tremble with excitement in response.

shortly after your introduction, the chairman reached out to you, telling you that the president of ahjin guild wanted to speak to you, putting you directly in contact with jinwoo. the tall and handsome man then shook your hand while making you an offer you couldn't refuse.

"join my guild and you'll be paid handsomely."

the excitement that coursed through your veins was nearly indescribable, since you were so certain that you would be able to prove yourself to him; to gain some confidence as a hunter while joining jinwoo during these high level raids.

yet oddly enough-

this didn't seem to happen.

instead, you were often left at his office, working on sorting through applicants and reports for the guild while he went alone on such raids. when you asked the other members, jinho and soohyun, if this was normal, they would simply shrug and nod their head yes.

"yeah, i just help the prez look at the reports and stuff. haha, he lets me post on my insta account and has no issues with me lazing around sometimes."

"ah... the boss takes me with him on raids sometimes, but that's only to provide him with equipment. usually, boss doesn't even fight. he uses his shadow soldiers to do all the work during raids."

with both of their admissions swirling within your mind, you could feel your mounting fury growing from deep within you.

you did not become a hunter and join his guild to do mere office work.

you became a hunter to fight.

and you were finally going to do something about it.

your president was currently in his office, and when you looked into his office, you saw his grey eyes looking bored while pouring over some paperwork. with a click of your tongue, you enter his office, causing jinwoo to look up at you with a calm expression.

he says your name before looking back down at the paperwork. "hello, is there something that you need?"

red hot anger was still felt surging through your veins when you take quick strides toward him. you slam the palm of your hand against his stack of papers, preventing him from reading any further.

jinwoo meets your gaze with a raised eyebrow all while leaning back in his seat.

"you're upset."

"no shit, sherlock!" you hiss at him all while pointing an accusing finger at him, "when i first joined your guild three months ago, i had every intention of fighting by your side- not by being your secretary!"

his eyes begin to steadily glow purple again. "don't get too cocky. lately, there have been several a- to s-level gates appearing all across seoul. and you are certainly not ready to face them yet."

"w-what gives you the right to decide that for me! i have spent over 10 years training, being labeled as an a-rank! i can do these raids just fine!"

"you've had zero experience. you could get killed." jinwoo's voice was now filled with venom when he stands from his seat.

"i would have had some experience if you just let me join you on your raids!" you scoff at him, eyes practically shimmering in response to your anger. "and just why do you care if i get killed or not? if that happens, then at least i died for a good cause!"

suddenly, jinwoo's eyes flashed with an unknown emotion, the sensation being potent enough that he had to bite down on his bottom lip. you ignore the strange feeling of guilt that fills you, taking a step back, your voice shaky when you tell him.

"there's an a-rank gate that just appeared, and i'm going with or without you."

"don't you dare-"

jinwoo was about to stop you, but you were faster, flashing him your middle finger before taking advantage of your speed, running away from him and the rest of your guild. you ignore their cries of your name while following the coordinates on your phone to where the gate was.

within what felt like minutes, you arrive at the bright red gate, seeing several authorities push back the civilians that got too close to the gate. a determined expression paints your features as you duck beneath the yellow tape and step into the gate's periphery.

"halt, the members of the hunters guild has not arrived yet. i was given strict orders to not let any other hunters pass through-"

"i am a member of ahjin guild, and i was told by my president to start scoping out the gate. hunter sung says that he will be here shortly." you purposely lie through your teeth, watching with satisfaction when the man's eyes widen with response.

"you're a member of a-ahjin guild, with hunter sung's arrival being soon? then by all means, go on and enter! we're all counting on you!"

you adjust your hold on your weapon while giving him a nod, stepping through the red colored gate with your head held high.

the moment you went into the gate, you felt a little nauseous at the sensation of shifting into what felt like a different reality. surrounding you was a thick forest made even denser by the fog. had you have been a normal human, then there was no way your eyes could see through the fog-

you considered yourself lucky that you could make out the many beasts taking shape from within the fog, brandishing your weapon as you began to work, slashing through each monster that dared remain in your path.

your confidence was building; with each stroke of your weapon, you felt a strange sense of satisfaction as the monsters fell to their demise. the passing of time was unknown to you, yet you never once stopped your movements until you were certain that every monster had been defeated.

you stand amidst a pile of fallen bodies, the fog now clearing as your sight became even clearer in response. taking a step forward, your footsteps made a crunching sound against the ground when a sudden sensation of something powerful looming over you stops you in your tracks.

your breathing becomes labored when you felt an overwhelming presence behind you. you turn around slightly, only to let out a silent scream upon seeing a monstrous spider with venom dripping down its claws.

"shit!"

knowing that you couldn't properly defend yourself from its poison, you try to dash away from it-

but its gigantic form easily caught up with you, and you watch from your periphery as it raised its clawed legs toward you, slamming down on you with a slash! as it manages to pierce through your armor.

"UGH!" you let out a scream of pain, feeling the blood pouring from your wound as the poison spread through you, paralyzing you. you were filled with panic now, feeling your entire body go numb as you struggled to crawl away from the spider.

with each movement, you saw your shadow lengthen from behind you, the sight being so unexpected and strange that you stopped moving. your eyes remain rooted on your shadow, watching with wide eyes as what looked like a tall and muscular knight appear from your shadow's depths.

his glowing, purple eyes acknowledge you for a brief second before he takes a protective stance in front of you. your breathing comes out in labored gasps, watching as he brandishes two daggers before quickly gaining up on the poisonous spider.

the beast didn't stand a chance, for within seconds, the dark knight slashes through its body, seeming to make thousands upon thousands of cuts on its body. you could feel a deep breath escape from your lips in a labored manner as the beast falls, the putrid scent of its blood filling your nostrils, making you nearly gag in response.

as if sensing your distress, the knight that crawled out of your shadow faces you, taking quick strides towards you before placing your pliant form in his arms. as he held you, you became shocked at how solid he felt.

did all shadow soldiers feel this... real and alive?

unable to speak, you allow the shadowy knight to carry you back to safety, appearing within the forest's clearing as his raspy and deep voice spoke to you.

"unfortunately, the exit has closed. we will have to wait until it opens up once more. it may take a couple of hours."

he settles your body on the ground, reaching behind him to pull out a vial filled with a golden liquid. "drink this, it will get rid of the poison's effects."

the knight uncaps the vial for you, tilting the elixir into your parted lips as you swallowed the liquid, emptying the vial as the knight tosses it aside. within a few minutes, you felt the sensation return back to your extremities. testing out the movement on your arm and legs, you call out to the shadow soldier.

"did jinwoo set you up for this?"

he was silent for several seconds before letting out what sounded like a huff, "yes, you could say that."

"tch, why is your master such an asshole?"

the soldier seemed taken aback by your outburst. "a-an asshole? you view my liege in such a manner?"

you narrow your eyes a bit, noticing the slight break within his voice. thinking that it was nothing (for now), you sigh and shake your head, moving up your legs so that you could rest your chin against your kneecaps.

"what did jinwoo name you?"

the shadow soldier was quiet again, as if deep in thought before answering, "he did not give me a name, but many refer to me as 'the first.'"

you hum and look down at your torn armor. "do you respect jinwoo?"

"of course i do... do you?" first asks you in a seemingly nonchalant manner.

"begrudgingly yes." you admit to him with a pout, picking at the ends of your ruined armor. "i hate how cocky he is all the time... and how he's always right."

the last part comes off as a mere whisper, catching the dark knight's attention.

"you think he's always right? how so?"

you could feel the tears of frustration appear in your eyes, "it's just... i hated how jinwoo won't let me join him in his raids... i wanted to prove myself; to prove myself worthy of him."

"worthy?" your words seem to have piqued the knight's interest.

"yeah... i just really admire and respect him." you finally admit to the shadow soldier with your cheeks heating up in response. "i used his story as motivation for me to become brave and stronger, and i wanted so badly to fight by his side! but he never would let me..." you sigh and meet the knight's gaze, "you have no idea how happy i was when i was able to enter this gate and fight...!"

your body began to shake as you began to curl up in response to your admission, "but, i fell short. i couldn't take out the boss of this dungeon... and i got severely paralyzed because of it. jinwoo was right, i wasn't ready-"

"but you were brave and tenacious despite it all." the soldier interrupts you, preventing you from speaking ill of yourself any further.

you saw wisps of shadows appear from your periphery and a sharp hand gently framing at your face. your head was then gently tilted upwards as you were forced to meet first's gaze.

"i was wrong... you're strong enough to take on anything... and i shouldn't have held you back."

when cracks were seen in his dark armor, you felt your eyes go wide in response, the shadowy armor now disappearing as it revealed a familiar man to you.

"looks like i ran out of mana... i can't keep up this appearance anymore."

your throat turns dry, seeing jinwoo dressed only in his dress pants as his entire upper body remained bare. you kept on sputtering his name when his large hand frames at your face. jinwoo lets out gentle coos of your name, resting his forehead against yours while pressing a kiss against your skin.

"do you want to know why i was so eager to have you in my guild... and why i never let you do anything?"

feeling overwhelmed at his sudden transformation, you could only manage a nod in response.

jinwoo chuckles a bit, wrapping his arms around you as he brought you even closer to his chest. "the reasoning is simple, my dear, and it's solely because i wish to protect you while remaining close to you."

your breath hitches in response to his confession, causing you to meet his gaze once more, "y-you... you want to protect me?"

the s-ranked hunter's eyes began to glow a deeper shade of purple, seeming to shine with pure mirth before admitting to you, "of course i wish to protect you; i want to protect every single person that i love-"

"and that especially includes you."

your heart was suddenly felt racing within the confines of your chest, with you being held tightly within jinwoo's embrace with his lips hovering over your own.

"...may i?" his voice becomes uncharacteristically shy, and you manage to give him a shy nod before jinwoo dives in towards your lips, sealing it perfectly in a kiss that conveyed his love and devotion toward you.

and with his lips perfectly slotted against yours, you figured that there was no better way to pass the time than to share a million kisses with the man that you have always admired and adored.

a.n. - so re-reading solo leveling's later chapters, where he fights antares, i get so heated, remembering how hot he looked donned in armor made of complete and utter darkness, like dear god jinwoo, just take me- I AM YOURS! 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

#writing #sam writes

[adhdduckie]

CATS AND WITCHES; sam winchester x fem!witch!reader

my masterlist

irl moots pls dni, i'll actually die if you mention this irl.

SOULMATESSSS

on the radio; at last by etta james

word count: 7.4k

synopsis; early seasons sam and dean were passing through a small town, where they see an ad about an unnatural disappearance of a girl, there were reports of large feline mammals around the victim's house before the disappearance, and the girl who disappeared mentioned having strange visions. sam and dean decide to check it out because of the large reward for any information. SOULMATESSSS

t.w; swearing, violence, supernatural stuff

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

sam has spent the last 3 days in the car, and he's bored out of his mind. the Winchester brothers had just finished a vampire hunt the week before, and were travelling around north of texas to find their father.

they were sitting in a small diner booth, going through some newspapers to see if there were any supernatural reports. sam was sipping a mug of some pretty bad coffee, but he had no other alternatives.

"here's one." dean says, turning around the newspaper he was looking at. sam sets down his coffee, picking it up and his eyes are caught by the red circle around the missing advert.

"the disappearance of a girl." sam reads aloud. he looks up from the paper, looking at dean with a raised eyebrow.

"keep reading." dean replies, nodding his head.

"reward of twelve thousand dollars if you can find her, and bring her home. come to * address, **** town, north texas for more information, regarding before her disappearance." he finishes.

dean whistles. "that's a lot of money. is she special or something? or is her family just rich?"

"how do we know it's a supernatural disappearance and not a kidnapping or something like that?" sam asks, setting the paper down as he speaks to dean.

"well, they wouldn't be offering such a large sum if it was a kidnapping. but it's probably worth checking out anyway, with that large of a sum. plus, i checked the map, it's only an hour's drive from here." dean replies, swallowing the rest of his breakfast.

"we could use the money anyway." dean says, as a way to convince sam.

"fine." is sam's response, and they both get up from their breakfast, throwing cash onto the table, before heading back to baby.

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

sam steps out of the car, looking up at the large mansion before him.

"damn." dean whistles, shutting baby's door.

"this better be worth our time." sam says as they stride towards the large mahogany door.

Sam noticed that the closer they got to your house, there was a pull at his stomach. Something seemed so familiar but so alienating at the same time. The closer he got, the stronger the pull in his stomach got as well. maybe it was something bad he had at the diner. he knew it looked way too suspicious for such a cheap meal.

Sam’s knocked out of his reverie, his hand clutching his abdomen as dean knocks quite aggressively, and a "coming!" is heard from the other side of the door.

seconds later, a small woman stands in front of the door, and dean and sam both have to crane their necks down to look at her properly. she's wearing a pair of old jeans and a large shirt, and she looks like your typical old auntie that you'd find at a market, bartering for cheaper prices.

"how can i help you?" she asks them.

dean holds up the newspaper advert, showing it to her. "we're here to hear more about the disappearance of a girl? we think we might be able to help." he responds.

the old auntie looks them up and down, sizing them up. she huffs, and opens the door further for both of them to come in. "My name is Miss jones. Would you like tea or coffee? Mrs. L/N will see you soon."

"coffee would be good, thanks." sam responds, and dean chimes the same. miss jones gestures towards one of the pristine white couches, as she goes to make the coffee, with a teeter in her step.

"mrs l/n! there's someone at the door who thinks they can help with Miss Y/n's disappearance." miss jones yells up the large swirling stairs, which are both dark and elegant.

"alright alright. I'll be down soon, make sure they're comfortable!" is the response from the top of the spiral staircase. The seemingly disembodied voice is regal and smooth, sounding as if it seems to curl around the brain.

the couch is plush and comfortable, the room is majestic and comforting, some soft classical music seems to slither into the room from a study, and there are loads of what they assume to be family pictures everywhere.

heels clack against marble staircases as a woman walks down the stairs, her eyes seeming to dim when they look at sam and dean.

"hello, my name is mrs l/n. I do hope that you're comfortable." she asks them, reaching out to sam and dean in a handshake. her hand is soft to the touch, but it's a very firm handshake.

mrs l/n sits in front of them both, her legs crossed over the other at the thigh. She's dressed in a smart suit and pants, as if she's ready for a photoshoot. ms jones comes in from the kitchen, placing down two hot mugs of the best smelling coffee in front of the boys, with a wide assortment of finger sandwiches.

sam and dean share a look, picking up a small sandwich each.

"we're sam and dean. we saw your advert in the paper, mrs. we thought we might be able to help. you see, we specialise in a sort of detective work." dean says, instantly switching on the charisma.

Mrs. L/N sighs. "at this point, i would accept anyone's help for this. the best P.Is we hired were unable to find anything." she pulls out a handkerchief from her suit front pocket, dabbing at her wet eyes, ever the picture of regality.

"i suppose you'd like to hear more about it, right?" She asks.

the boys both nod, picking up some more of the sandwiches. ms jones takes the already empty plate back to the kitchen, filling it up with more assortments for the boys.

"it started last month. my daughter, who i believe is about your age, maybe a couple years younger, she's twenty. a wonderful soul." she sobs, her regal and composed demeanour cracking before them.

the boys wait for her to compose herself before continuing.

"she came home from university, and she was so shaken up. it was easter break, so i was very excited to see her again. she only visits every school break, you know? she seemed so off. i asked her what was wrong, but she kept saying that she was fine, and she was just upset about not obtaining 100% on her end of term exam. i didn't believe her, of course, i could tell it was something more than that."

the boys lean forward, only subconsciously reaching for the delicious small finger sandwiches. mrs l/n cracks a small smile at that, and continues on.

"I persisted, and she finally told me that it was because she kept seeing things. she told me that one night when walking back to her apartment after a late class, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She didn't think too much of it at first, before she realised it was a large feline. she said she didn't really react, as she was with a large group of her friends, and it was unlikely that it would attack. but every night that week, she said she saw it again.”

“on the final night before she came home, she saw it again while she was getting out of a cab after a night out with friends. she finally saw it properly. she described it as a dark hulking mass that seemed to be made entirely of shadows and horrors. she said she couldn't sleep that night."

at this, the brothers share an interesting look, like a demon or something. or perhaps a familiar of a witch that she had angered.

"She chalked it up to her inebriated state, but it kept eating at her. after she told me, she broke down in tears. i told her she was fine, and she didn't have to worry about it. she was safe in our house. you know, we've always believed in the paranormal, as her father was a very cautious man. we have salt and iron rock brigades in the walls of the house and the marble floors."

sam and dean look surprised at this, having a quick glance around the room. mrs l/n laughs. "i know. i found it silly at first, but my husband has had this house in his family for generations."

"that night when she finally came home, after telling me everything, she retired to her room. the next morning i had gone into her bedroom to look for her to tell her breakfast was ready, and she-" mrs l/n sobs.

"she?" sam supplies. dean's too busy stuffing his face with the plate of cakes that were just set in front of him.

"she wasn't there! there were scratch marks, so deep and etched as if there was something trying to ruin the walls." mrs l/n wails. flailing her arms about. "i'm so-" she hiccups. "i'm so sorry. i'm not usually like this. i miss my daughter, i'm so worried about her."

"we understand. we'll do everything we can to help you. is it possible for us to inspect the scratch marks, and also check out ms y/n's room?"

"of course." is mrs' l/n's response. "you both look so hungry, you must need a lot of food to help you. take up the cake plates with you. and if you want anything else, just yell for either miss jones or i. her room is the one on the third floor, with the flowers and vines on the door." she gives them a watery smile, picking up the plates from the table, holding it up to them.

"thank you mrs. l/n." sam and dean respond, taking the plates, standing up from the couch, as ms jones shows them the way.

'be careful. there's a dark energy in that room." Ms jones whispers to them, as they follow behind her teetering form as she hobbles up the stairs.

"oh don't worry, we're used to it." dean responds, as she points out the room to them, before hobbling back down the stairs to mrs. l/n.

"i hope the winchester brothers are careful." mrs l/n says to ms jones. "I wouldn't want john to get mad at me if they're horribly injured." she turns to the small woman beside her.

"they've grown quite big. especially sam. he's so much bigger now." mrs l/n states.

"why didn't you tell them you know them?" ms jones responds.

"they would probably ask me to tell them where john is, and i can't do that." mrs l/n sighs.

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

"mrs l/n is not as snobby as i expected her to be. she's quite nice." dean says to sam, as they stand outside of your room's door.

"i know. what do you think happened to her daughter?" sam asks as he pushes open your door.

dean takes in a deep breath at the sight before him.

"shit." he whispers out. "what happened here?"

your (normally) tidy room is in shambles. cupboards are on the floor, clothes spilling out of them. there's money strewn across the floor, making it look like a robbery scene. there's glass shards on the floor of your room, meaning your room has been broken into. which is strange, considering your room is on the third floor.

the only thing that makes it not look like a robbery and a kidnapping, is the deep scratches on the marble floor, in the solid walls, and in your bed bannisters.

"fuck, man." dean muffles out through a large bite of cake. "that's some really awesome cake." he says.

"seriously? shouldn't we focus on this instead?" sam says, rolling his eyes.

"i can eat cake at the same time."

sam sets down his plates, shrugging off his heavy bag full of iron salt and iron chains.

it seems as if your mother had left it the way she found it, to help with any investigations made into your disappearance.

sam walks closer to the large claw marks on your bed bannisters. the sheets are intact, and it seems like whatever took you woke you up from the glass shattering.

the sheets are a mess, and your pillow is on the floor. there's a bat beside your bed, which seems to be smeared with some blood on the handle.

"shit. what kind of princess has a bat beside her bed?" dean says, noticing Sam's gaze.

"her mom told us she was really freaked out. she probably put it there for her own protection." sam responds, rolling his eyes.

sam runs his fingers over the deep etches in the bedframe, pausing when he feels a pulse of energy.

"that's weird." he states absentmindedly to himself, not noticing dean standing behind him, still holding onto what must be his third plate of chocolate cake.

"what?" He mumbles around the cake.

sam turns his head, still crouching low as he runs his fingers to the next deep scratch. there's something pulling at him, so he follows it, but he stoops low to pick up his bag, beckoning dean behind him.

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

sam's followed it into a deep, dark forest. it's a couple of miles from your house, a large secluded forest.

dean complains about the temperature as he walks, but the deeper they go into the forest, the more they realise that something is wrong.

well, not wrong, but it feels, heavy. not temperature wise, but an aura that seems lonely and sad. it settles on the shoulders, causing the walk to get harder and slower.

dean's lugging the bags, complaining of the weight as he hobbles. He's still injured from their last hunt, and he's been slow and in pain recently.

a couple of branches snaps in the distance, and they both pause. It's not an animal. they're silent there on out, and walk towards the sound. The pull is getting stronger.

there's a figure hooded in the dark, and sam and dean share a look. what is it this time, a demon, a cold maiden or a wailing banshee?

the closer they get, they realise it's not any of the aforementioned. the figure is small, human-like. their hands are corporeal, foraging in the grass for herbs. the pull he feels is getting stronger. in sam's haste to get closer, to see what they're looking at, he steps on a branch, and it cracks loudly.

In the forest, you’ve been foraging, the entire day, you had been feeling a light tug on your stomach, and you just thought it was because your familiar had been away. You had been feeling a pull in your stomach, but just as the branch cracks, it gets stronger. your head shoots up, and you freeze.

what you first think you see is a moose, but the longer you look, it's a pair of two boys. the one who's startled you is taller than the other, and he's the one that you thought was a moose. but what scares you the most is the fact they're both carrying two large heavy bags, not knowing what they might hold inside. so you do the first thing that comes to your mind, you run.

sam recognizes you from the images, and just as he realises the look in your eyes is fear, it's too late. you're already running.

sam sprints after you, wanting to talk and understand why you've seemed to stage your own abduction, but when dean catches up to sam, he tells him to stop, and the more he chases, the more likely you're to run.

"why is she here? why is she okay?" sam asks dean. dean just shrugs, and thinks for a second.

"she was probably sick of her home life or something." dean finally responds, picking up the bags that sam had dropped. dean frowns before finishing. "but you said that you felt a pulse of dark energy, right?"

sam nods in response. curiosity gets the best of him, and he wants to know why you were running. and for the large bounty, they have to bring you back.

they follow the pull that sam feels, the force pulling him closer to you.

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

"what. the fuck." you're thinking as you sprint through the forest. you're wondering how they found you, and what were they going to do to you?

you make it back to the small cottage you found in the woods years ago, having made it more habitable as time had passed.

slamming the door behind you, you lean against it, sliding down until you're sitting.

"fuck. who were they?" you ask yourself, praying that they won't be coming after you.

you stand, setting down the basket you had used to collect the mushrooms on the sink, petting the maine coon that sits next to you, he purrs, rubbing his head against your hand, you’re glad that he’s back.

suddenly, you hear the front door creak open, and the moose boy and what seems to be his brother now that you have had a proper look, are standing there.

you freeze, standing up and immediately picking up the large knife on the counter. "what do you want?" you demand, brandishing it at them.

the moose boy, who's broad and tall, drops the bags they were carrying on the threshold of your house. his hands, which are large like the rest of him, are held up in a sign of surrender, a sign that they weren't going to hurt you.

"we don't wanna hurt you. we just wanna talk." he says to you. his voice is deep, and if he wasn't a total stranger who barged into your house, you'd describe it as soothing.

"the fuck you mean you wanna talk? who are you? how did you find me?" you grumble, whirring the knife around and around your hand.

dean laughs, scoffing a little. "she's not as princess as I thought. How is she mrs. l/n's daughter?" he says to sam.

you overhear him, pausing. "what do you mean? how do you know my mother?" you demand, holding the knife further up.

"she's the one who hired us to find you. she thinks you've been taken." sam states slowly, approaching you as if you're an easily startled deer.

you lower your knife, setting it down. you'll trust these boys for now. they don't seem so bad. your maine coon, ares, however, disagrees. he snarls, shifting into his larger form. he's the size of a tiger in that form. the whiteness of his fur melting into a dark, staticky one.

dean lets out a yell in surprise, and hits sam in the face. the whisps of darkness of ares's fur are tinted with a red, and they float towards you.

"no! ares. stop." you demand, and he turns his head to your side, baring his teeth. "it's fine for now." you state.

dean and sam know what you are now. a witch, with a rare familiar. "fuck." sam whispers. "yeah." dean agrees.

ares snarls again, before shifting back into his original form.

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

a few minutes later, your door is closed, and the three of you are settled around your small kitchen, steaming cups of herbal tea set up in all of their hands.

your mug is small in sam's hand, and it would be funny how out of place he looks in the small hut if you weren't so worried. he really does remind you of a moose.

"okay, moose. tell me everything." you state, pointing at sam.

"first of all, moose? what the hell is that?" he asks, bewildered. dean laughs, smacking him on the back.

"i dunno. you remind me of one." you shrug, but you point at him again.

"okay, your mom hired us to look for you since she's super worried. you just up and disappeared. " dean interjects.

"but the real question is, what the hell are you doing?" sam finishes.

you let out a deep sigh. In the last couple of days, you've felt so stressed about this. whatever these powers are, they're so annoying. what have you done to deserve this?

"the cat you saw, ares, he's supposed to be my familiar." you tell them everything, about how your powers manifested, how ares had found you to help you control your powers better, how you ran away because you were scared of hurting your friends and your loved ones.

"ares did the scratching for me, in the wood. he broke the glass for me, to make it look like a burglary. i did my best." you finish, and you're feeling tears well up in your eyes.

"hey." sam soothes you, resting a hand on your shoulder. his palm is warm and heavy, and you briefly wonder what it would be like to hold it.

"i'm learning to control my powers too, we should work together." he suggest and dean sends him a funny look.

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

your mom cries and hugs when she sees you, and gives the money that was promised to the two boys.

"why did you leave?" she begs you for answer, her arms still wrapped around you.

dean and sam, you now know their names, are sat on your couch again, eating some food.

"i was scared. I didn't want to hurt you." you tell her, mumbling into her hair.

"you could never. I should have warned you that it was coming." your mom tells you, patting your head softly. this gets everyone's attention.

"you knew?" sam, dean and you all say at the same time. you catch the eyes of sam, and he smiles at you supportively. Is it weird that it's supportive, even though you've only known him a couple hours?

"yeah. it's been passed down through generations, but it skipped me." she shrugs, telling everyone. "it's funny, because when we were younger, john-" she slaps a hand over her own mouth.

"fuck." she whispers out, but it's muffled.

"you knew our father?" sam asks your mum, standing up from his seat. she sighs, and shakes her head.

"i knew him, but i don't know where he is." she says sadly.

your mom tells you all of how she grew up with him, and that they were neighbours. Her father and john’s, were good friends. You even spent some time with sam and dean when you were younger, but just didn’t remember as you were too young.

Everyone nods in understanding, and you finally feel better.

“Mom?” you ask quietly, dragging her to the side. Unknown to you, sam’s watching you with a small smile, but dean notices.

“You whipped already, moose?” dean teases sam. “What-? No.” sam responds, but he feels his face heat up.

“I’m just wondering what led me to her before.” he says, trying to change the topic.

“Who knows. You could be soulmates.” dean jokes, thinking about their shared demon blood.

“Maybe.” he mumbles halfheartedly, not really listening.

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

“Mum?” you ask as you pull your mom to the side to talk to her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she responds.

“Uhm, i want to go with them.” you say.

“What?” your mom panics. “Are you sure? It’s not going to be safe.” she says.

“I know. But i want to learn how to control the powers properly. There are some things I want to learn, some things i need to see that if i don’t leave, i’ll never see.” you tell her, trying your best to convince her.

“I see.” she responds. She’s got her poker face on, the one that won her 10 thousand dollars at a casino in las vegas when you were 11. You don’t know what she’s going to say, but you hope that she’ll let you go. “What’s something you want to learn?” she finally asks you.

You stare at her in bewilderment, your ears reddening before you speak. “Before sam and dean found me, i felt this pull in my stomach. I feel it now, and it only seems to be slacker when i’m with the two of them. I want to learn what that is.”

Your mom laughs so hard, she ends up wiping tears from her eyes. “I see.” she wheezes.

“What?” you ask her.

“Nothing, nothing. You’ll figure it out eventually.” she says, giggling to herself again.

You groan, “but can i go? I want your blessing.” you beg.

“Yes you can. But you must be safe, and remember to call me at least once a week, so that i know you’re still alive and safe. I’ll kill the both of them if they even let you get hurt.” she says, threatening loud enough that sam and dean stop whispering between themselves enough to look up at you both.

Sam’s got a sheepish grin on his face, and dean’s got a smirk, as if he’s saying that he knows something you don’t.

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

The next year is a mess.

You spend all of your time with the boys, getting close enough to both of them to consider them both your best friends.

Dean’s like a brother to you. And Sam, well sam-… he’s different.

Everytime you see him, you can’t help but smile. Every room he’s in with you seems brighter than it was before he went in, and you love every single second of your life that you spend with him.

The bond isn’t so strong when you’re together, but it’s only quiet when you’re touching him. If it’s hands pressed together, his arm resting on your shoulder, you tucked into his side, as long as you’re touching, it’s restful.

It’s hard sometimes, the life of a hunter. Your witch abilities help them on the hunt, and the added protection of ares is really good too.

You’re in a pickle, a couple of times. The work is dangerous, and not many make it to an older age.

This last hunting trip is going to kill you, you decide as soon as dean describes what’s going on.

A small rickety sports bar has been popping up all over the country, a popular couple’s bar named ‘hearts aligned.’ the story is that everytime a couple walks in, the chances are that the couples don’t come back out.

It seems to be this strangeness that is attracting all these couples to keep coming anyway. It’s ridiculous how people think that it’s cool because of that, and instead of staying away, they keep coming back.

So this is what leads you to now. Your smaller hand wrapped around sam’s larger one, as you entered the bar. you swear you can hear dean sniggering miles away back at the hotel rooms at the mere thought of your forced proximity with his baby brother.

Of course, dean found out that you liked sam, he became annoying to the point where he found numerous excuses for why he couldn’t do hunts, preferring to stay at the bunker than go out.

“Oh, my back hurts. Since you’re younger, you and moose can go do this one.” he’ll say, as he pushes you and sam out the door. He always sends you a wink.

Moose has now become a nickname for sam. It wasn’t on purpose, no matter how many times sam accuses you of finding the least suitable nickname for him.

Sam and you, wrapped up together as you wait in the lobby of the bar. The smell of sweat and love hangs heavy in the air, sticking to your skin like honey.

You don’t like it. You don’t like how natural it feels to be tucked into sam’s side, his hand resting on your waist. You don’t like how it feels so natural that he’s pressing light kisses to your hairline, like you’re something precious that he’s afraid to be away from for even a second.

You really hate how he’s playing the role of an affectionate boyfriend so well, and you know as soon as this is over, you’re never going to be able to get over it. You’re gonna get addicted if this keeps going on.

Not to mention, you hate how because of your short dress, you're cold, and somehow without you even saying anything, Sam's noticed. You didn’t even say anything, and he wrapped himself around you with the sole goal to warm you up.

And it works, he does. The body heat he emits is more than enough to warm you up, without being too warm. His hand, resting on your hip, is warm even through the fabric of your dress.

And most of all, you hate how the pull that you’ve felt in the pit of your stomach that’s been there since you’ve met the brothers, isn’t tight, for once. It feels as if that the closer you are to him, the more relaxed you feel.

“You okay?” sam whispers into your ear, playing the role of the beloved concerned boyfriend well. You shiver slightly, the warmth of his voice does that to you. It’s impressive how as soon as you feel the slightest bit off, that he notices. It’s as if he’s fine tuned himself into all the subtle shifts of your moods.

“Yeah.” you whisper in response. He does notice the shiver, but he chalks it up to the aircon vent blowing cold air at your back. He moves so that he’s in the way of the aircon’s cold blast, his warm front pressing into your back.

You let out a small huff of air, comfortable with his proximity and his warmth. “How long do you think this’ll take, moose? I’m getting tired.” You whisper to him, the music strangely quiet for a bar. To make sure he hears you better, you turn your face to him, bringing your lips closer to his ear.

He fights a difficult battle, trying everything in his willpower not to blush. That damn nickname, you… Everything, it’s killing him. “Dunno, shouldn’t be that much longer.” he responds in what he hopes is a confident, strong tone.

The longer you stay at the bar, the quieter it gets. Some couples leave giggling and laughing, dragging their partner’s hand with a mischievous smile.

You feel the bar getting colder, and a quick glance at the thermostat proves you right. “Anytime now.” he whispers again.

Suddenly, there’s a guttural screech, and the rest of the bar goers flee the premises, leaving you and sam alone in the bar. He steps away from you, pulling out the revolver supplied with rock salt, and bares it at the source of the screech.

As you unclasp the thigh guard, you pull out your own gun, similar to his. It was a gift from him on your birthday, engraved with your initials and a small cat.

You point it where sam is pointing his gun. You feel goosebumps raising on your arms, the hairs standing up as you hear a little scuttle. If you weren’t so fine tuned into sam, you wouldn’t have noticed how the hairs on the back on his neck stick up as well.

You want to smooth them down, but it really isn’t the time for that.

The scuttling gets louder, the sound of nails on a blackboard screeches through the bar as the music abruptly stops. The screeching gets louder, scuttling like a beetle as it gets closer, so loud that you think it’s right next to you, but you can’t see anything at all.

You pause, feeling your heart momentarily stop. Slowly craning your neck up to the ceiling, you almost scream. A year into the business, and you’re still not prepared.

▷ —-------------------- (crack)

The sound of the chair being knocked over as you scramble away from- from- whatever that thing is.

It’s got long dark hair, which is dangling. A feminine shape, with a covered face, but you can feel eyes staring at you with a glowering menace even without seeing it. Even no longer directly below it, you can feel it staring at you.

Sam gets in a protective stance, blocking its view of you by stepping in front of it.

‘Well…what have we click click here?” it rasps, voice disoriented and deep, clicking, sounding at the back of its dry throat, reminding you of the sounds the velociraptors in Jurassic world made.

You raise the gun, pointing it right between where the eyes would be on a normal person. Sam reaches out behind him, just checking to see if you’re behind him still, making sure you’re still safe.

“awww. such a cute hunter couple.” it snarls, dropping from the ceiling. its bones crack as it moves, body bending backwards as it stalks towards you.

suddenly it pauses. “you don't see that often, anymore.” it mumbles to itself, one grotesque finger drawing a line connecting the two of you, and the next thing you know, you're thrown together against the wall as it stalks closer.

“fuck.” sam groans as his back hits the wall, and you let out a hiss of pain, tied to his chest as you flail around, trying to move.

something invisible is pinning you in place. you're embarrassed to say that even in such a dangerous position, your heart is thumping aggressively in your chest, practically bursting out.

the thing is drawing close, and it's enough to get you to snap out of your reverie, and you remember that it's neither the time nor the place for this.

“Hmm. soulmates? So rare. You both can’t be human then.” it grumbles, its finger bending back with an unnatural crack.

‘What the fuck.’ you’re thinking as you both are struggling. Using your powers, you send a blast, making the thing fall back, scuttling its old bones as it regains its stance, prowling towards you.

In the time that it loses its balance, you and sam find yours. He pulls you up to his feet quickly, retrieving both of your guns as he points it at the thing, his other hand behind him, ensuring that you’re behind him.

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

In the end, you end up taking it out, sending it back to a demon dimension, and dragging your sorry asses back to your hotel rooms, where dean, is lying comfortably on the bed, with a beer in his hand.

You glare at him, beaten up and bloody, cuts all over your face from falling face first into a window. You’ve healed all the serious injuries, but don’t have enough energy to do the rest.

“I take it went well?” dean asks smugly, stretching out his limbs as if he’s done anything remotely productive. (spoiler alert. He hasn’t. He’s just gotten back from the bar)

“She was an elder-being. Thanks for the warning, dean.” sam growls, eyebrows furrowed as he hobbles over to lie on the bed.

“Hey! Don’t get the bedsheets bloody, we’ll be charged more.” you say, hitting him lightly, wincing when you hear him let out a hiss of pain.

“Shit.” sam whimpers, holding his arm, slightly above the slash in his arm. It’s not bleeding heavily anymore, but you bet it’s painful as hell, especially with those long ass nails raking at him.

“I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to. Wait, I'll help patch you up. ” you tell him pushing him down so he sits on the edge of his bed in dean and his’ room.

Dean lets out a grunt as he jumps to his feet, already having enough of whatever flirting will happen soon.

“Right, i’m heading down to the bar, gonna check out the ladies.” he says, striding over to the door.

“Weren’t you just at the bar?” you ask him with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already missing me.” he responds, winking at ya. You can hear sam groaning slightly from the pain, turning your eyes away from dean to watch sam, you hear the door click closed behind you

You roll your eyes, pulling out the medical kit to pay attention to how injured sam might be.

“That was really stupid of you, moose. Jumping out a window?” you chastise him, a worried furrow in your brows as you pull out the necessary ointments.

Sam stares at you, his fingers itching at his side, wanting to smooth out the furrow in your brows. He thinks about what the demon thing said, and wants to talk about it, but he wants you to be comfortable first.

“Are you injured anywhere?” he asks, his hand reaching up and doing what he wants. His touch is gentle and soft, and even as he smooths the furrow out of your brow, his thumb lingers, before he pulls back. You miss his touch instantly, skin tingling where his thumb rested.

“Just a couple of scratches. Nothing as serious as your arm.” you respond, grimacing slightly as you really look at his cut.

“Yeah, but i’m still worried about you.” he responds, frowning.

“Don’t. Be more worried about yourself, since you’re the one in pain right now.” you chastise him, trying to pull the edges of his shirt away from the cut, letting out a sigh when he

“You gotta take off your overshirt, sam. I don’t wanna have the fabric sticking to the cut, or infecting it.” you tell him, stepping back while you wait for him to do as you ask.

He winces as he pulls it over his head, his white undershirt stained from the blood only on one side.

“You see? And you’re still telling me that you’re worried about me.” you say, pointing to the cut.

As you end up cleaning it up first, you’re in a comfortable silence. You keep thinking about the eldritch woman, and what she said about a soulmate bond. It would make a lot of sense, how for all this time, you’ve always been drawn to him.

Not just physically, but what seems to be mentally too, you notice all of his quirks, his hobbies, his preferences, and what he would deem his faults. They’re not faults to you, they’re just him, and you love him.

Unknown to you, he’s thinking the same. Maybe not to the same extent of what you're thinking, but to a similar extent. He’s curious about what happened, and he wants to know more, to know if you feel the same pull he does.

You end up stitching the rest of his cut up, and when you’re done, you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Letting out a deep, tired sigh, you throw your arm over your eyes, blocking out the light.

Sam’s still sitting on the edge of his bed, but he’s turned to stare at you. He watches the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, and even with the sound of music drifting into the room from the bar downstairs, he can hear the little puffs of air you let out.

He calls your name, and you shift your arm upwards, resting against your forehead as you stare down at him.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“..what do you think she meant about the soulmate bond?” sam asks. He’s probably the most nervous he’s ever been right now, but it’s a kind of nervousness that is elating, making his heart race in his chest.

You blink at him, just assuming that that was just going to be something else swept under the carpet of your friendship if you didn’t bring it up. Like lingering stares, touches that are wayyyy too long to just be friendly, and the way he’s just too fine tuned into you.

“Uh. Maybe what it quite literally means?” You finish, trying not to show just exactly how terrified you are right now, since this is a topic you thought you’d never talk about. Like how dean really really needs a love life, not just one night stands.

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes, and he feels slightly less stressed about bringing this topic up now, since you sound to him as if you’ve been thinking about it too.

You really want to talk about it, but you really don’t want to sound too desperate.

“You know that’s not what I mean, y/n.” he tells you, shifting so that his legs are no longer hanging off the edge of the bed, and he’s looking right at you. His arm is tender, and the little movement is enough to make him wince.

Sitting up to look at him properly, you sigh. You don’t know what to say, really.

“Do you feel it?” he asks, shyly. “The soulmate bond?” He thinks of all the times he’s even thought that you might have reciprocate his feelings, and he thinks he has a solid chance right now.

You don’t think you’re gonna get rejected, but it’s still slightly unnerving to bring something as serious as this up, because if it doesn’t work out, your entire dynamic will be destroyed, and you will not only lose the love of your life, but your best friend, and in the process, you could lose dean, too.

“Yeah. i just didn’t know what it was before.” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck nervously, wincing when you scratch at a injury you didn’t notice before.

Sam lightens up obviously, the physical embodiment of puppy eyes. He looks at you now, and he laughs.

“What?” you ask him, slightly nervous.

“I feel it too, you know?” he tells you. “I felt it that day in the woods, i felt it when you left my side for even a moment, I felt it when we were together. I just thought it was some kind of overattachment to you.”

This makes you laugh, and he pulls you closer by your arm.

“I felt it in the woods, that day when I thought you were a moose, I felt it when I sat in the passenger seat of baby, I felt it when you were injured in the hospital.” you respond, thinking of all the times where the bond vexed you, and made you happy.

Sam stares down at you, pulling you into his side properly. You’re tucked into under his arm as he presses a chaste kiss to the tips of your fingers, to the palm of your hand, your forearm, as he slowly makes his way up to your face.

In between each kiss, he whispers out to you; “I've felt you everywhere in my life since the first day I met you. In my head, my lungs, in my space. You are the air I breathe, and without you, I'm scared I’ll die.”

he pauses when he reaches your jaw, pausing, giving you time to push him away if you don’t want this.

“yeah? “ you respond smugly, gloating now that you’re aware of just how much you affect him. You’re breathless, waiting for the kiss that you feel you’ve been missing your entire life.

This is the only moment that matters, the part where you finally come together. With that, he kisses you. The kiss is sweet and soft, a promise of more to come.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours and your breaths mingle together, but it isn’t enough. You need more for all the times you’ve been afraid he’s hurt or worse, dead.

You pull him closer by the collar of his undershirt, and kiss him. You kiss him like crazy, and he reciprocates, kissing you harder. This kiss is everything you’ve lost, come back to you.

When you finally pull apart, you’re giggling, and he chuckles, pressing another chaste kiss to your forehead, whispering how much he loves you.

You fall asleep entangled together, ankles crossed over his as he rests his arm over your waist, your head tucked between his neck and his shoulder.

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

Dean comes back from the bar, switching on the light of the room, and he quite literally does a double take when he sees the two of you entangled together, even in sleep.

He does everything in his power not to wake you up with screams of “i knew it” and “it’s about damn time”. He’s happy to see his brother so content, even in sleep, there’s a smile on sam’s face.

Dean pulls out his phone, sending a quick text to mrs l/n; who’s number he got to stay in touch with updates of his father.

‘You owe me ten bucks.’ he types out.

The screen lights up with a response from mrs l/n.

‘What!? Already? I thought it would be later.’ is the reply, and he laughs at that.

#sam winchester x reader #duckiewrites #sam winchester #dean winchester #x reader #Sam Winchester #witch!reader #supernatural x reader #spn #supernatural #spn sam winchester #spn fanfiction #spn x reader #sam x reader #sam and dean #the winchester brothers #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader headcanons #sam winchester imagine #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fluff #fanfiction #fluff #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester blurb #sam supernatural #sam winchester supernatural

[reiderwriter]

reiderwriter 5k writing challenge

hello, my lovelies, and thank you so much for 5k followers~♡ it's been just under a year since I started writing on here, and it's been so fun interacting with everyone and writing for Spencer and the other members of the BAU team! I was a bit unprepared for some of my other milestones and threw some stuff together last minute for them, but I've been thinking about a writing challenge for a while and I finally decided to do it!

Please note: This is a writing challenge! All the prompts below are meant to inspire you to write your own fics and not as prompt requests for me. I hope you can use them as a starting point to write~♡

The theme for the challenge is:

daydreams and shooting stars`☆

There are two sets of prompts to choose from! The daydreams' prompts are based on classic fanfiction tropes that we know and live, and the shooting stars prompts are based on the zodiac signs. There are 12 prompts in each list, and you're welcome to mix and match prompts as you like! Maybe you'd like to combine your star sign with your favourite trope, or two particularly match well, or if you like a single prompt, you can just write for that. I don't mind if the fic is only very loosely based on the prompt, too, do whatever you'd like!

The writing challenge will run up until my 1 year writing anniversary, July 27th, so you have plenty of time to get your fics in! I'll be reblogging all the entries, and at the end, I'll add them to a recommendation list! Be sure to tag @reiderwriter in your fic, or use the hashtag #reidersdaydreams or #reidersshootingstars in your tags! I'll be tracking both~♡ You can submit as many entries as you like!

Rules for submissions will be at the end. Please read them before submitting~♡

without further ado, here are the prompt lists~☆

DAYDREAMS

ONLY ONE BED - a true classic in the sense that I will be reading only one bed fics down to the second I take my last breath. Feel free to invert this to "too many beds," or even "no beds at all, but somehow we're still cuddling," either way, I will read it and likely enjoy it greatly.

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE - which character is grumpy, which character is sunshine? my favourite grumpy x sunshine dynamics are the gloomy character trying their best to become more sunny after a tough life 🫡

FAKE DATING - we, in the criminal minds fandom, have written possibly every undercover mission possible to make our characters make out, but I'm coming in as a simple woman to ask - please do it again 🫶

OH. OH. - the plot revelations! Give me them! The sudden moments of clarity! I'm a fan, goddammit.

IDIOTS IN LOVE - there is nothing better than two huge dumbasses falling head over heels in love with each other in an "aw shucks" kind of way. Also, I'm an idiot, representation matters.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - coffee shop AU? Soulmate AU? HANAHAKI AU? If someone could please un- or re- traumatise my favourite characters I will be eternally grateful

SECRET IDENTITY - give the character their Emily Prentiss Lauren Reynolds moment, or just make them dress like a clown for like 30 minutes. Both count.

MUTUAL PINING - This harkens back to idiots in love, but it's about the LONGING, it's about the PITIFUL STARES, it's about the BURNING PASSION.

SECRET RELATIONSHIP - my love of gossip makes me a sucker for secret relationship stories because I truly want to be in everyone's business. Character A and B are dating? Brilliant. It's a secret? BRILLIANT.

SICK FIC - your poor little meow meow has a cold. Or your poor little meow meow has been poisoned with anthrax. Or your poor little meow meow is dealing with possible symptoms of schizophrenia. Or your poor little meow meow has been shot-

PSYCHO X PSYCHO - reidams fans, this one's for you 🥰

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - half of my requests are enemies to lovers requests! Feel free to include rivals to lovers, lovers to enemies, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, or any such dynamic that your heart desires.

SHOOTING STARS:

Aries - "I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is."

Taurus - "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

Gemini - "There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

Cancer - "I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

Leo - "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."

Virgo - "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

Libra - "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."

Scorpio - "She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived."

Sagittarius - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

Capricorn - "There's a low-level, specific pain and having to accept that putting up with you requires a certain generosity of spirit in your loved ones."

Aquarius - "An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs, and then you had the urge to pass it on."

Pisces - "I think it's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional."

Rules:

I'm accepting reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fics for this challenge. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character from any fandom you write for. I assume a lot of people will stick with CM, but feel free to write for whoever you choose!

Please tag me in your entries or send the link to me in a DM. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge. Again, the tags I'm tracking are #reidersdaydreams and #reidersshootingstars ♡

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I will not endorse, nor do I want to read smut written by minors. I will check the ages of accounts posting smut.

For smut or angst fics that could include triggers, please include a content warning above the fic so we can be aware before reading!!

Enjoy!!

#reidersdaydreams #reidersshootingstars #spencer reid #criminal minds #reiderreplies #spencer reid x reader #reiderslibrary #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds challenge #criminal minds writing challenge #fanfiction writing challenge #cm writing challenge #writing challenge #aaron hotchner #tara lewis #penelope garcia #david rossi #derek morgan #jason gideon #emily prentiss #luke alvez #elle greenaway #alex blake #jennifer jareau #kate callahan

[fallenangelics]

Rough And Fluff

PAIRING | Angel Dust/Husk

WORD COUNT | 938

SUMMARY | After the best orgasm Angel has had all week, he is ready to relax for the night when something rough but pleasant starts brushing against his chest.

RATING | Mature

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | @rubra-wav created the beautiful banner below so go check out their content since they have some amazing stuff.

EVENTS | @character-a-character-b | Beastial Desires

AO3 LINK | Read Here

Angel lay on his back, chest heaving as Husk pulled himself up from where he had previously been buried between Angel’s legs and instead flopped himself onto Angel’s chest, head burying in the fluff that resigned there. Once again, the two of them have had sex. Not just any sex though, sex that pleased Angel more than it did Husk with no want for him to return the favour, Husk was seemingly happy enough just to make Angel cum.

Although his mind was still in a haze, Angel’s top set of arms reached up to curl into the fur on the back of Husk’s head, his fingers pivoting in small circles. A sigh slowly parted its way from Angel’s lips once it seemed like his mind was starting to make sense of his surroundings.

Prepared to lay there in what felt like eternal bliss for hours, Angel couldn’t be happier with how his life had taken a serious turn since the latest Extermination and the Hotel being rebuilt. Sure, he still had to lug it over to the Studio every once in a while but it hadn’t been as frequent or for as long as before. Either Val finally realised after watching the videos from the Extermination that Angel could actually hold his own or his close relations with the King of Hell has scared him off for a short while. 

Other than that everything was almost perfect.

He got to spend more time at the Hotel with his friends while working on redemption or he could crash a few nights over at Cherri’s just like before he was roped into Charlie’s ridiculous plan. And, to top everything off, he had finally gotten together with Husk after the cat-owl hybrid got drunk enough to spill his guts to Angel; both metaphorically and literally. 

So Angel could easily agree that everything had taken a dramatic turn for the best as he laid with Husk on top of him, a soft smile on his face and a glow radiating around him.

Beginning to feel himself slip into a soft slumber, Angel is startled awake when he feels something rough drag along the fluff on his chest. Eyes jumping wide open, Angel stares down at Husk as he runs his tongue along the mound of fluff on his chest with his eyes narrowed in concentration as he spared no glance at Angel. 

With his own brows pinching in confusion, Angel watched in silence as Husk got to work on the fluff Angel housed, not saying a word as Husk parted and smoothed out the white fur, messing it up before making it neat once more. It was rather enduring, watching it all play out. That didn’t take away the rough strokes that danced across Angel’s chest, reminding him of the appendage that was essentially grooming him.

“What are you doin’?” Angel asked, his voice hushed in the quiet room. That didn’t seem to matter as Husk jumped the moment Angel’s mouth opened, not expecting a word to come from what he had thought had been the sleeping Sinner. It wasn’t that he minded the extra care, his eyes swallowing every action with glee as it played out. He was just confused as to why it was happening. 

“Jesus,” Husk hissed, sitting up and resting over Angel with a hand planted on his chest. Angel couldn’t help but smile up at Husk, earning a huff in return as he settled back down, this time laying next to Angel and allowing him to curl into his smaller body. One of Husk’s wings immediately laid itself over Angel’s side. “Give a guy some warning next time.”

“Sorry,” Angel found himself whispering, still in a hushed tone. “That doesn’t answer my question though.”

“I was grooming you,” Husk said in a mumbled voice begrudgingly, making it hard for Angel to make out his words. Pondering whether or not to ask Husk to repeat himself so Angel could clearly hear what the Sinner had said, Angel allowed Husk to hold onto his small shred of dignity lest he’d want a grouchy cat on his hand.

“Why?” He asked, keeping his top set of hands curled into the fur on the back of Husk’s head while his lower set reached for Husk’s hands, lacing their fingers together when Husk clasped his own around Angel’s.

“Because you’re filthy,” Husk’s nose scrunched as the words left his mouth, eyes locking on Angel’s fluffy chest as if he wanted to reach back in. Angel just wasn’t sure if he wanted to bury his head in there again or start grooming him. “And sweaty. I’m just listening to my stupid instincts.”

“You’re cat ones?” Angel asked, getting a small nod in return as if Husk was embarrassed to admit it. Pondering on that thought for a few seconds, Angel’s hands came to a slow stop on the back of Husk’s head, making him look up with bright golden eyes. “If you want to continue, you can. I ain’t goin’ to stop you. Besides, I kinda like it.”

Husk’s brows slowly pinched together as he studied Angel, taking him all in, “Really?”

Only answering with a nod, Angel shifts back onto his back, giving Husk all the space he needs to get back up and lay himself across Angel so he can once again get back to work and listen to the new instincts he had earned after arriving in Hell. Once again Angel wrapped his arms around Husk as he did so, letting his eyes slip shut as he enjoyed the rough tongue that pulled and prodded at his fluffy chest.

#hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel anthony #husk #huskerdust #hazbin husk #angel dust x husk #husker #angel dust #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3fic #fanfic #angel dust hazbin hotel #valintino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin charlie #character a character b #character-a-character-b #CharacterACharacterB

[whipitgod]

Thinking About Birds

Hannibal lecter x Will Graham

oneshot - wc: 2.7k

summary: post fall hannigram, will wishes he had thought about all of the little things that come with living with hannibal, and hannibal tap dances on wills last nerve!

warnings: language, mentions of canon typical murder stuff, somewhat crack-ish while also being serious at parts, tooth rotting domestic sweetness

a/n: Thank you for the continued support you are all so amazing!!! per usual this was supposed to be shorter than it turned out but i just can’t help my self apparently lol. If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

Will blinked awake slowly, shifting slightly to glance at the small digital clock on the nightstand; the numbers on the display reading 4:30. The red glow of the numbers feels almost taunting as he pauses to wonder what had even woken him up, he hasn't had a nightmare in months, at least not a real one. A thought crosses his mind that leaves a taste of bitter irony in his mouth, he hadn’t had a real nightmare since he had begun sharing a bed with Hannibal.

Will quells a laugh that bubbles up inside him and threatens to escape at the thought; the very cause of the nightmares that had plagued him for years, now being the thing that keeps them at bay. Will turns to look at where Hannibal sleeps, finding his side of the bed empty; Will can hear Hannibal clattering around in the bathroom in a failed attempt to be quiet so as to not wake the ex-profiler.

Will lets out a harsh breath through his nose in irritation as he hears what he believes to be, based on the sound of the bottle hitting the vanity in their shared bathroom, step 9 of Hannibal's outrageously long skincare routine. He reaches blindly for the lamp on the nightstand, making note of the fact that the sun has yet to even begin to rise. The lamp turns on with a soft click as he finally grabs ahold of the chain he had been reaching for, the room flooding with a warm yellow light that still manages to grate on Will's nerves.

He pushes himself up so he's sitting with his back against the ornately carved wooden headboard Hannibal had insisted on purchasing for their new shared bedroom, grumbling quietly to himself as he does, “Who the hell wakes up this early,” he swats at the nightstand in an attempt to find his phone, “and who needs a 15 step skincare routine,” finally managing to grasp his phone, but only after knocking a few of the random things he keeps piled on his nightstand, much to Hannibal's dismay, to the ground, “I mean jesus christ Hannibal, just get some damn botox.”

Almost as if summoned by Will’s quiet words of discontent, the door to the bathroom opens and Hannibal steps back out into the room, seeming shocked to have woken Will when he spots the younger man awake and reading something on his phone. The shock on the cannibal’s face stirs up another bout of irritation inside Will; why is he acting surprised? Hannibal's morning routine has woken Will more times than he can count in the few months that they had been living together in the small home. Hannibal makes slow strides over to the bed where Will is now looking at him with poorly masked annoyance, “I’m sorry if I woke you,” the man says, entirely too chipper and awake sounding for Will’s taste, “I was trying to be quiet.”

Will lets out a displeased huff at this, choosing to forgo a response. He spares Hannibal a short glance before focusing back on the article he had been reading on his phone, the older man sighs at this before moving to the closet to retrieve his clothes for the day. Will was glad the man’s fashion taste had become significantly more tame since they had settled into the home in argentina, he supposes it's probably due in part to Hannibal not having anywhere to get the clothes near where they’re staying, but Will wouldn’t put it past the man to have the clothes shipped in from somewhere else, and if anyone could find a tailor near where they reside it would be Hannibal.

Honestly Will isn’t a hundred percent sure why the change in Hannibal's choice in garment had occurred, Will is almost certain that he hadn't seen the cannibal wear a tie in the entire time they've been living together, let alone his previous daily attire of carefully tailored three piece suits. Hannibal now opting to wear a wardrobe of mostly linen, the flowy material good for staying cool in the warm environment they now reside in; Will supposes the temperature of the country they've been staying in might have something to do with the change, he would imagine that the humidity might make a polyester blend a bit impractical.

He watches the man dress as his thoughts unfold, he had never anticipated his life turning out this way, but he isn’t upset about it, even though sometimes he feels like he should be. The guilt that used to haunt his every waking moment now only graces him on rare occasions. He’s always able to stamp the guilt down as quickly as it arrives now with a silent acknowledgement that his guilt will not purify him; guilt does not make you innocent. Is the man that sobs out apologies at his trial any less of a murderer than the man that doesnt?

He’s broken from his thoughts by the sound of Hannibal shutting the closet door with a gentle thud, the man pausing to look in the floor length mirror he had insisted on having in the room momentarily, the same mirror that Will had only agreed to have in the room so long as it was not facing the bed in any way. Seemingly satisfied with his appearance he turns and faces the bed where Will sits watching him.

When he spots the look Will is giving him his features soften slightly, “I’m going to make some coffee dear,” the pet names were also a new addition that had seemed to come with the shared house, “I will start on a light breakfast in an hour or so.”

Will meets his eyes then, offering a small smile despite the irritation of being woken up this early that still simmered gently within him, “I’ll be down in a bit.”

the response seems to satisfy the older man because he nods at this before leaving the room to begin making what is no doubt a very overly complicated pot of coffee. Will misses shitty coffee every once in a while, don't get him wrong the stuff Hannibal makes is amazing, but Will still occasionally craves the bitter watered down coffee that you’d find in small diners and gas stations. Hannibal would probably have an aneurysm if he were to catch Will drinking the stuff now, he muses silently, the thought causing a small huff of laughter to escape him before he can stop it.

There were a lot of things that Will hadn't considered when he had thrown them over the cliff. He wasn't trying to kill them, at least he doesn't think he was, he honestly still wasn’t quite sure what his plan was when he had pulled Hannibal into the water with him. He doesn't dwell on this line of thinking for long, choosing not to rehash an internal conversation that he’s had on many occasions in the months they had been living in the home together.

Will hadn't really considered what it would be like to live with the cannibal before he had plunged them into that freezing water; he finds himself wishing that he had quite frequently though, especially when Hannibal wakes him up with the noise of his excessive morning routine.

Will had never really given much thought of what living with the cannibal would be like prior to their dive, at least not in any practical way. He had imagined what it would be like to wake up next to Hannibal, he’d found himself fantasizing frequently about drifting to sleep tangled with the man.

Funnily enough, his fantasies never included the way the cannibal lived his day to day life when Will wasn't present, they never included how Hannibal would go about mundane everyday tasks. He really wishes he had; he’s always known, at least on some level, that the man was eccentric and particular, he just hadn’t anticipated all of his quirks.

He regrets not considering all of the little things, like the man's obsession with his morning and night routines, or the way he mutters quietly to himself when he reads at night next to Will in bed, that one Will finds particularly frustrating; he remembers confronting Hannibal about it one night as they lied in bed one evening about a month into their stay. He lets out a soft puff of air as he recalls the memory.

-——————————

Will had been growing increasingly more and more frustrated with the sounds of Hannibal reading; prior to living with the man, he had considered reading to be an almost silent activity, yet here Hannibal was disproving that notion in a way that made Will want to tear the book from his hands.

Hannibal let out a please hum at what he was reading, drumming his fingers against the back cover of the book, “How interesting,” the sound of a page turning grated against Will's nerves and added to the growing irritation he had been feeling; Hannibal made a noise that sounded curious, continuing to drum his fingers against the back. Will wanted to stab him with one of the pens that sat on his cluttered nightstand. Hannibal let out another pleased noise, this one sounding satisfied like he satiated the momentary curiosity that had occurred from the last page before muttering a soft, “Very interesting.”

Will was gonna strangle him. He had never been able to find the strength to go through with it but he reasons he had never had to sit and listen to Hannibal read while he was trying to fall asleep next to him. The sound of another page turning doing nothing to calm the frustration bubbling up inside him; he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge in the fantasies of killing the irritating man but every once in a while Hannibal will do something that annoys Will to the point where he no longer feels any guilt about picturing the man's demise. Hannibal lets out another inquisitive noise and Will fights the urge to reach over and punch him, he’s too angry to even want to kill him at this point, he just wants to get one good lick in.

Hannibal breaths out a contented noise before muttering again, “Very, very interesting.” Will sits up with a speed he didn't know he was capable of, Hannibal jumping slightly as he had assumed the younger man was asleep. Hannibal had never been a very expressive man but in that moment as he stares at a borderline manic looking Will, his expression is that of a deer in headlights.

“Reading is a silent activity!” It comes out as more of a yell than he had intended but Will finds it hard to care, all of the anger that has been steadily building for the last hour reaching a boiling point, “How interesting can a book about-” Will stops quickly, eyes scanning over the cover of the book in Hannibal's hands before letting out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. Will finally noticing that the other man had been reading a book about the migration patterns of different birds in the region; not even attempting to finish the sentence he had started he plows on, “are you fucking kidding me?!”

Hannibal chose not to say anything, his expression now contrite as he closes the book with a soft thud, setting it gently down onto his lap not breaking eye contact with Will, a little afraid that the man might lunge at him if he looks away.

The fight leaves Will almost immediately, huffing out an exacerbated, “un-fucking-believable.” before laying back down with more aggression than Hannibal had thought possible. It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the sound of Will’s agitated breathing and the occasional disgruntled mutters emanating from where Will lays facing away from Hannibal. The cannibal can’t pick up on everything that Will is grumbling, the quiet words of anger somewhat muffled against his pillow but he picks up on some of it; a quiet disbelieving, “fucking birds.” Hannibal misses the rest of what he says but the cannibal understands the message, finally moving to set the book on the nightstand. The older man sits motionless for a few moments after setting the book down until Will snaps out an angered, “Go the hell to bed Hannibal.”

Normally Hannibal would push back, abhorring the rudeness of Will’s statement but in that moment he decides not to argue with the empath; He decides to simply flick off the lamp and lay down against his pillow. He reaches out to pull Will to his chest but as soon as Will feels the man's hand touching his arm he lets out a harsh, “Don’t.”

Hannibal feeling properly scolded in a way that he had rarely felt before decides not to make things worse by pushing, he rolls onto his back and drifts off to the sound of Will’s breath evening out as he finally falls asleep.

————————————

Will is pulled out of the memory by the sound of hannibal calling his name announcing that the coffee was done; He isn't quite sure how long he had been sat there thinking about that night but given how long it takes Hannibal to make coffee with the ridiculous contraption he insists on using Will would wager that its been at least twenty minutes; Will had suggested buying a keurig one morning and he swears to this day that the cannibals eye had started twitching, Will had conceding quickly, worried that the knife Hannibal was using to make breakfast might find its way into his stomach.

Standing up from the bed with a sigh as he stretches his sore muscles; He’s had a back ache since they had taken their tumble, having been on the bottom when they hit the water his back had taken a majority of the damage, the raging water unforgiving as they crashed into it.

Stretching his back one more time with a pained groan, he strides leisurely out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Hannibal was sat reading something on his tablet, the older man looking up to greet him as he crosses the threshold into the room, “Good morning dear,” Hannibal gestures to the second mug sitting on the table, “I already poured you a cup.” Will offers him a soft smile in return, pulling out the chair closest to the other man before sitting down and pulling the mug towards him.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a bit, the only sounds between them being the gentle clank of mugs being picked up and sat down as they drink their coffee, the domesticity of the act never failing to stir up complicated emotions in will; the empath had never considered how much hannibal would behave like a housewife once they had began living together.

He stares at the Hannibal while he gets lost in thought, his mind filled with memories of multiple events that had taken place in the last couple weeks alone; Some of Hannibal’s behavior and habits seemed more fitting for a forty year old suburban housewife, not a serial killer with a penchant for cannibalism. This thought makes him let out a small chuckle, Hannibal's head snapping towards him at the sound. Hannibal gives an inquisitive hum, his gaze expectant as he locks eyes with Will; Will simply waves a hand at the man's curiosity, deciding to take another sip of his coffee instead of responding.

Will startles at the realization of how domestic they've become, from their frequent bickering to their habit of sitting in comfortable silences simply enjoying the others presence. This realization doesn't scare him the way he thinks it should; something about it feels right, like this is just what was supposed to happen. Will can't help but let out another laugh at the thought, the idea of this outcome being fated is humorous to him in ways he can't quite pinpoint.

At the noise Hannibal looks at him again, watching him for a moment before asking a gentle, “Is something funny?” In response to the question Will gives a gentle shake of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Hannibal quirks a brow at his reaction, before speaking again, “It sure seems like something is funny,” he sets his tablet down, giving his full attention to Will, “Care to share?”

the empath huffs out another gentle laugh, he shakes his head softly once more before answering, “I’ve just been thinking about birds.”

#will graham x hannibal lecter #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram #hannibal reunion #hannibal fic #crack #fluff #no plot just vibes #fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #hannibal and will #murder husbands #post fall hannigram #slight ooc #hannibal fluff #hannibal crack #hannibal the series #will graham and hannibal lecter #hannibal

[suzukiblu]

May I ask how you got people interested in your works? You have so many people who love your writing (rightfully so bc you're awesome) and I just want to find some people who like my writing like you did

ik that I should be writing for myself and everything, and for the most part I am! I write bc I like writing and it makes me happy! But it's just so so discouraging to see my little silly posts that take me 5 minutes to make do fantastic, meanwhile the works that take me weeks of effort get like 3 notes yk?

How do you do it? Did you ever deal with something similar? Any words of wisdom for the struggling noobs?

(This is a genuine question, I'm not trying to be rude in any way shape or form and I'm very sorry if it came off like that) (Also sorry to bother you)

You’re good, I’m not bothered by questions and I don’t think you’re asking anything rude either! I especially don’t mind the “please explain this thing I don’t know much about to me” type of questions, there’s just some shit you can’t effectively google or things that just make more sense coming from someone with direct experience. 

First and foremost: the two cakes meme is law!! No one will ever complain about getting two cakes, no matter if you think someone else already did it better! 

Second and second-most: as a newbie, before you read any of my advice at all, remember that you're currently comparing yourself to someone who’s been writing fic for their entire writing experience and has also been in fandom on and off for pretty much all of that time on multiple sites and through at least a couple major migrations of fandom hubs, and that time has been about twenty-five years now. Like, it has very much been a long-term process, me learning how to find a receptive audience for my stuff. Also I am a grown-ass adult who is currently pushing forty and am pretty self-aware of who I am as a person due to a WHOLE lot of personal introspection and therapy and general life experience. Like, I know how I work at this point in my life, if nothing else.

The long-form answer of my personal fandom process will definitely require a cut at this point, though, haha. Like, this got kind of involved, ngl, but since you’re asking I figure it’s reasonable to go into detail.

So anyway, the “how to find your audience” answer is obviously gonna be different for everybody, but PERSONALLY, I've been in fandom for a long-ass time and just about always been pretty prolific and consistently communicative and available during the times I was around. I have a ton of different fandoms and fics in my history and have run into a lot of different people and written a lot of different things over the years, so I've cast a pretty wide net of options for people to find me through. I've got readers who've followed me through multiple fandoms and even deliberately gotten into new ones because of me just because they like how I write and know me well enough from my other writing to trust that I’ll be respectful of certain things (or at least put in a good-faith effort to be). Your kink is not my kink, but I’m not gonna hate on it; your thing is not my thing, but you have fun over there, you DO your thing!

Being prolific is super-helpful, of course, because that gets people in the habit of checking in on you regularly and keeps you fresh in their minds, but one of the most effective ways I’ve gotten people long-term interested in my work is by being very responsive to readers and very open about what I’m currently working on. Taking requests has helped, asking who wants to see more of what has helped, talking to people in general has helped, and definitely playing “yes, and?” with ideas I’ve been offered has helped. Also I had the benefit of LiveJournal being one of my main fandom hubs for a while, where I met a lot of people and got in the habit of talking to them in a way Tumblr does not necessarily intuitively facilitate, so that’s just a habit for me. 

I definitely still produce stuff that comparatively flops and get bummed about it, it’s just a thing I’ve gotten used to over the years and so I either kill my darlings and move on to the next thing or I decide “naw, I’m still into this idea, I’mma work on it more anyway”. That’s obviously much easier when at least a couple other people are also into said idea, but still, it’s a thing you just gotta decide for yourself either way. Like I’ve DEFINITELY had stuff I slaved over get just about totally ignored while things I only tossed up on a whim off the top of my head or just intended as jokes people adored and resonated with way more, which is part of why I do so many WIP memes where I’m drip-feeding bits and pieces of content more regularly. One of my recent fics didn’t get near as much of a reception or interest on AO3 as I’d hoped it would, but when I was writing it on Tumblr people DID get excited for and enjoy it during the process, so that helped soothe that particular indignity/frustration for me.

Also, I’ve gotten enough people invested in my writing at this point that it’s much easier for me than it is for some writers, because I can do things like ask “hey what do you guys like/want to see more of?” and I’ll pretty much always get an answer, simply because so many people are in the habit of regularly checking on my blog and talking to me now. Polls are very helpful that way too, because it’s a functionally anonymous way for shyer people or people who are just casually scrolling their dash to give you an idea of what they’re enjoying from you without having to disrupt their flow or psych themselves up or anything like that. Like, it’s low-pressure, you know? I have done a LOT of polls since I found out Tumblr has those now.

I also constantly encourage people to both talk to me about and also play with my interpretations and AUs as they so please, and I deliberately cultivate responsive relationships with as many readers as I can. I don’t always have the spoons to answer every ask, but I always try to answer the majority of them and try not to ignore questions. A significant chunk of people have told me that they read tropes and AUs from me that they hate from other writers because they just trust that I’ll write it in a way that they can enjoy. I will include certain things and a certain level of respect that they just would not be comfortable without, and if I don’t have those things in there or there’s a common trigger, I’ll at least have done my best to tag for it. And I listen to people who tell me when I’m fucking up and I either take reasonable accommodations or change my behavior where appropriate. I tag for common triggers, I don’t use terms I’ve been told are insults or slurs, I try not to associate negative connotations with physical characteristics or things people can’t change about themselves, and when I have a reflexive “squick” reaction, I try not to assume shit and try to examine my biases. Or I just back-button and move on, if it comes to it. I also do my best to assume the best of people until they prove that I should not be. I am very much going to de-escalate when and wherever I can. 

I generally consider myself a low-drama blog and a low-drama person to follow, and put in effort to be that as best I can, and at this point I think (or at least hope) people feel relatively confident that they can talk to me without having to worry about immediately getting their head bitten off, which seems to be an increasing fear/concern that some people have in fandom. Therefore, I get people talking to me pretty regularly, because I’ve gone to the effort to be as approachable as I know how to make myself.

Also, yeah: above all else, write what you wanna write! Write your weird and niche dreams! Trust me, somebody out there LOVES your weird and niche dreams and wants all the deets on ‘em. I get the most engagement and interest when I just write what I really wanna see and don’t particularly worry about how goddamn weird I think I’m being. People are actually gonna be EXCITED about how goddamn weird I think I’m being, because a lot of them want it too and they’re not finding it as easily as a lot of the more popular stuff. 

So like . . . hope at least some of that was helpful, feel free to ask follow-up questions if you have any, hah.

#anonymous #rintalk

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hello! I love your blog! I watched the show when it came out last year and am getting prepared for season 2 by coming here and watching all the promos and such. I read the books years ago, so I am no expert. I have a tons of questions, but please forgive me if you have answered them before. At the end of the first season, when Armand was revealed, I assumed the love of my life line was for Daniel. To get a reaction out of Daniel, Louis did not seem Ok. But all the promo information seems to imply they have been happy for the most part all these years. Or if not happy, then content.  I get that there has been tinkering, I get they are putting on a performance for Daniel, but they seem to have elevated their relationship from the book. It has been years since I read the book, but I always thought in Paris, Armand was mind controlling Louis to some degree. They barely knew each other; it was only a couple of months I think before Claudia was killed. It wasn’t some grand romance. Just manipulation to get at Lestat. I know Armand fell in love with Louis, but I felt that Louis did not fall in love with Armand. He was infatuated. Then they travel around for 100 years, but just because Louis can’t be alone and there was no one left. They are not happy or even pretending to be.  Louis didn’t even notice when Armand left him. Did I interpret this wrong? I have seen that some are spectating that Dubai is Trinity Gate. But again, maybe I am wrong, but Trinity Gate never felt super romantic to me. Just two people waiting around for the people they really wanted to be with to get their crap together and come back. I know that they are polyamorous in the books, but their main romantic relationships are with other people. When Lestat and Daniel show up, they just get back with them, no drama or anything. It just feels like the show is trying to elevate Armand and Louis’s relationship to create some kind of love triangle, which just feels cheap to me. Very Twilight and Hunger Games. There are people have shipping wars over these relationships. I am also confused how people have such strong feelings about Louis and Armand when we haven’t even seen them on screen yet. Anyways, I guess I am feeling turned off by this season. Hardly any Louis and Lestat or Daniel and Armand and some love triangle with a ghost.  Part of the reason season 1 was so great was the chemistry between Louis and Lestat. I think an entire season with little interaction between them and a new Claudia just will feel like a whole new show.  Do you think the show is just completely diverting from the book with all of the stuff in Duabi? It seems obvious from comments made by the actors that Devils Minion happened in the past. But did it happen with Louis there? I can’t see that making any of these shippers happy on either side. Louis would very much be thrown aside for Daniel. Daniel and Armand were so intense about each other in the books and can’t see Louis not being ignored regularly if they were in a throple. I just don’t see it working because Louis in the show does not seem numb. He would care if his partner was deeply in love with someone else even if just for the principle of it. The show has already shown how well Louis handles cheating.  So I am assuming the broke up but then why did Louis say they had been together for 77 years? Also, Louis keeps giving side eye to Daniel and Armand when they are having moments. Does he not know about them? It seems like he does from his poking, but I am very confused by the whole thing. Why do you think they are trying so hard to manipulate Daniel? Taking journal pages out and such. What is the point of all of this. I just cannot see a way for any of this to make sense that at all keep in line with the books. Also do you think the show will do polyamory? They went so hard on the cheating aspect in season 1, which makes me think they can’t go there on the show. You can’t make it such a deal breaker for Louis for me to ever believe that he would ok with it later.  

Hey!

Glad you like!

So, first off, the last line, the "Love of my life", was revealed to be inspired by "The Graduate", and was played as such, which... changes the meaning quite a lot, imho. Here is a good post on that.

I think the Loumand we see is very much presenting a united front (something the reviews have been pointing at as well). That said, the extended look the other day made clear that the pages were not removed for Daniel - Armand removed them (at least the straight cut out ones imho), and Louis does not have access to them either. And whatever they reveal will be a catalyst for sure (I'm thinking Merrick reveal, as that book is where the diary entries are from after all).

Louis definitely knows about Armand and Daniel, in fact I believe he is trying to bring them back together.

I think that parts of the Devil's Minion happened with Louis there, or Louis at least aware. I also think Louis tried to break up with Armand in Paris (as he does in the book) and probably drifted away from him later on too (also as in the book) but maybe... that is the part where things get very muddy re memory. And tinkering.

I do not think we'll have love triangles in the sense of the word.

This is not about cheating, whether that be Loustat, Loumand or Devil's Minion, it never was.

It was presented to be, for reasons.

But these relationships just don't work that way, and one of the very hard to stomach realizations will be that Louis stayed with Armand (and especially if there were no full break-ups!) despite what Armand does to Claudia. And him.

For me it all makes a lot of sense, tbh.

It's a tale. A version of the story presented for a reason, from a specific POV. In season 2 we will get more POVs. And we already know they will revisit things. Likely in the last episodes, if the reviews are any indication.

And then... the tale will shift.

#Anonymous #ask nalyra #iwtv s2 #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire s2 #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #loustat #armand #loumand #the devil's minion #daniel molloy #devil's minion #cheating

[chordsykat]

How I write action/fight scenes

From a prompt posted by a friend on Discord last night. :3 Just thought I would ramble a bit before getting to work, this morning. If you're a writer and want to know what goes through my head as I come up with combat scenes in my stories, then read on. In this way, I hope we both learn a lot. Because I honestly don't think I've ever laid out my "formula" before...

First, know who you're dealing with.

This tutorial is going to stick mostly to the actual writing aspects, but if you're going to do an action series, you should factor in the combat abilities of your characters as you develop them. This doesn't have to be anything fancy. Keep it to the natural human responses at least. In other words, during a conflict, how will your character react:

Fight: Push back

Flight: Run away

Freeze: Do nothing

Knowing just that will give you enough to start thinking these dances through. And indeed, that's what they are - a dance. If you know more, like, specifically what kind of fighting they do, what their strengths in combat are, etc -- all the better, but know that what I list below goes in order from most to least important, and that stuff won't be on the list until the end.

Second, (and always) make the audience care about the action.

This sounds dumb and counterintuitive but people won't find an action scene compelling just because it's an action scene. Not to knock it, because it was brilliant for a different reason and a lot of the writing staff's hands were tied... BUT... During my time as a fan of, all the way into my employment with, Archie-Sonic, I can't tell you how many action scenes happened just because some executive at Sega was like "I think X and Y need to fight." So they would, and for reasons that were muddy at best. I think at one point, we had Sonic and Knuckles literally exchanging this dialogue:

Sonic: Yo dude, be cool. Last time we met, we left on good terms! Knuckles: Maybe, but you're still an intruder and just because you did me that favor on the day my daughter was to be married does not mean I owe you anything in the way of kindness.

IDK, my memory may be foggy, but that was the gist of it. Point is, don't do that - and first make sure your audience understands the motives behind the action, the potential stakes, and why it's all taking place to begin with. Else, you can make it as cool as you want and people are going to walk away with a sense of "that was cool" instead of "holy shit I was freaking out through that whole scene." If there's any question as to what you should be striving for as a writer, it's the latter.

Third, plot it out like it's a mini-story.

To the point - figure out the end first, and work backwards, just like so many writing tutorials have said before. Again, keep it simple: Who wins? Does the conflict result in a casualty of some kind? Does a character learn something?

Before you show how it goes down, you need to establish what goes down as the action happens, and what happens afterwards. Keeping the ending in mind as yo write a scene is always a good way of making it feel tighter. And throwing littlte twists for interest (maybe a character has the upper-hand for all but the end of the fight - maybe a character is losing until a specific turning point, etc) is made much easier, too.

Fourth, mind the rhythm.

A little weird to explain this, but the back-and-forth nature of the scene needs to flow well. Generally, conflict follows a pattern of:

Character acts

Opposition reacts

Opposition acts

Character reacts

If this pattern looks familiar to you, it should. This is the basic pattern of human dialogue as seen in stories and, YES, real life. Consider your scene like a dialogue all its own (even if the characters are talking throughout). The twists and turns I spoke about in the last point should be "off beat" because there's an unexpected nature to them. When a twist happens, consider breaking the above pattern.

Fifth, showcase character traits and skills (again, always).

Some characters have a high sense of honor and would put down their weapons if their opponent was unarmed. Some of them would fight dirty and hit someone with a chair when their back was turned. Some characters are scrappy and will jump into a conflict even when they're sorely outmatched. Some are straight up cowards who might run away even when there's a good chance they could win. Some are smart enough to bow out and will not engage -- hiding at the first sign of trouble. Some will throw snowballs at the oppressor and be surprised when they pull aggro and the dude comes after them.

You get the idea -- fights, conflicts and action scenes are great ways to show your characters' strengths, weaknesses, traits, and personality. Times of struggle are going to lay emotional responses raw, and it's a great way of showing "who someone really is" as it were.

Sixth, showcase unique defensive behavior.

Some characters have specific training: military, martial arts, street-fighting, etc... which, if you're aware of those, should come out during combat or conflict. Some characters have access to weapons. Some characters' bodies are the weapon. Etc, etc etc...

Whatever you do, about the only time you're going to show off the fact that your character knows Muay Thai is during an action scene. If you yourself do not practice this martial art, then research what you need to incorporate to make it believable when you write. Watch videos and write down the ways you would describe the movement. If you're doing a comic, then sketch the movement. Use that in your story.

Last, create more interest by tying in and highlighting story themes or disparities between protagonist characters, antagonist characters, and/or the conflict as a whole.

A little trickier, but if your story has a central theme or moral, try showing pieces of it shining through the action. Just as one wild example, if you have a theme of "love conquers all" this might mean your fight will end with the two people falling in love, instead of fighting. Think like a dungeon master. If you rolled a natural 20 on "try to woo the orc" in a combat situation (remember that comic?) what do you think would happen?

Too, if your combatants have something in common, or especially something that they are diametrically opposed on, feel free to show that off in these scenes. It'll leave the audience knowing them better (and set them up for further head-butting... or romance(?) down the line. And that's always fun).

Anywho, that's just a few of my thoughts on action sequences in fiction. If this helped you, or you want me to talk about this even more -- send me a message or a note or something. Always up for discussing this kind of thing.

And your reward for reading this far is an invite to join my discord if you wanna hear me ramble on about this sort of thing, in perpetuity. :)

#creative writing #writing tips #tutorials #action scenes #writing action scenes #writing combat #character development #story development

[celticcrossanon]

Hi Celta,

I honestly don’t know where you stand on reading the Harkles. But reading the Commonwealth and Charles might be ok?? I only ask because Lady C’s theory was that the Harkles are going to Nigeria to show the Commonwealth countries that they are the only option when Charles passes, and William is King. She said the ‘court’ I assume royal court, is divided about how to handle that hot potato. Personally I think Charles is a big factor is blocking any action against his feeble minded son.

This raised all sorts of alarm bells for me. I get to thinking there may be an insider who’s facilitating the invitation from the Nigerian government. It’s come out they are paying for the Harkles to visit.

It’s alarming too because we know they are not above using the dead and buried race card to suit their own ends. Is it your intuition that Lady C’s onto something here? I know I demonize Charles a lot. But he’s the Head of the Commonwealth and this is happening under his watch. He begged and begged his mother for this role, and as soon as he was diagnosed, Harry came running, was it to ensure it was going to be passed onto him? I know the member countries have to vote, and the Harkles are good at causing chaos and trouble.

If indeed he’s not involved, Charles will soon find out when he visits Australia how his commonwealth subjects there feels about him. I wonder if the Harkles will pull the colonial themed complaints against him that they used on the Wales in the Caribbean tour. Time will tell but it’s very troubling.

Hi Anonymous Retired,

King Charles's energy has felt a bit shaky lately, so I want to give him a rest for a week or so before I try to read on him again. I think he's been pushing himself too much with this return to face to face work and his engagement has taken more out of him than he expected. :)

I can read on the tours in general - how will Nigeria go, how will Australia go etc - and I can do one reading on Harry and one reading on Meghan, and then I will see how I am feeling before I do any more on them.

I do think that Harry and Meghan may be trying to become Head of the Commonwealth, but I don't see why. They won't get the position until King Charles dies, and if he does step down them all the heads of the Commonwealth Nations have to vote for the new Head of the Commonwealth, and I can't see them voting for Harry and/or Meghan. The position has no salary and no housing, so they won't get any money like that. Are they thinking of using it to funnel funds into their own pockets> If so, how? Do they want the prestige? What will it get them? Bribes to make things go a certain way? Their duties will be to attend CHOGM every 2 years, attend the Commonwealth Games every 4 years, and do a speech and an Abbey service on Commonwealth Day. OK, that sounds like their level of work, and they would be updated on developments in the Commonwealth on a regular basis, but I can't see what they would get out of it that makes it so desirable to them.

I am probably over thinking this, or not thinking down on their level enough. It also sounds like it might be part of some murky political stuff, and I don't do politics if I can avoid it.

I will read on what they want from the Nigeria tour and see what comes up. That will be a good starting point.

I will finish by saying that although King Charles is the Head of the Commonwealth, that gives him no constitutional power in any of the Commonwealth Nations, and if a nation of which he is not head of state, like Nigeria, choses to bring the Harkles over for a visit and (presumably) treat them like royalty, then there is little to nothing that King Charles can do about it outside of normal diplomatic channels, and I don't know what he could do inside diplomatic channels due to my ignorance in that area. I am not surprised that the court is divided over how to handle this, as taking any actions against the Harkles feeds into their victim narrative, while ignoring them can be taken as silent approval of their actions. Something that emphasises that the Harkles are private citizens would be the best to my mind, but I don't know how that could be accomplished.

[rotten-pomegranate]

Hey! I love your writings so much. Recently I’ve read your headcanons about some HxH yanderes making their Darling smoke weed, and was wondering how you think Chrollo and the Trouble Trio would handle it if it turned out their Darling was actually resisting smoking the joint because of an allergy to weed, to the point that even just smelling it can cause symptoms anaphylaxis in Darling?

adult trio and trouble trio + uvogin Reader is allergic to weed

Fallow up to this one for trouble trio + uvogin and this one for adult trio

Warnings: forced smoking, Noncon, kinda drugging?

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

Chrollo

This man is ready, he has the shot, he was watching you just in case so when it actually happens he’s not all bent up

He lays you on your back and gives you the shot, brings you some water and cream to soothe your rash and then let’s you go to bed

When you wake up he’s gonna ask why you didn’t wanna smoke but the answer won’t matter to much because now he already knows

Hisoka

Hisoka knew it was a possibility so he did get you an inhaler just in case but he didn’t think you would need it

When the reaction starts to come he’s already in you and he doesn’t have plans of stopping until he’s done so he just shoved the inhaler in your mouth and continues

He might just be sadist enough to make you smoke again if he’s in the right mood

Illumi

Illumi wasn’t really thinking about that, he was just thinking about your tolerance and how much you would need

Luckily his family does have a medical building that he brought you to and they have everything you could medically think of so your gonna be fine

He wants to know if it’s curable so he can make you as calm as you were again

Shalnark

Shalnark doesn’t even notice at first, he just gave it to you so he could have sex with you without the struggle and he knows people have different reactions to sex so when your breathing gets weird he doesn’t pay much mind to it

It’s only when he sees your eyes getting red and breathing become fully difficult sounding that he thinks something might be wrong and when he figures out what he’s gonna look up stuff to do while he calls phinks to bring a pill for you

Phinks

Phinks doesn’t even know what going on when you start choking on nothing, this poor man just wanted some quiet

He goes and googles your symptoms to weed and sees your having an allergic reaction to it he’s gonna feel bad for all of two minutes before he starts yelling at you for not telling him that you could die

He gets the medicine but your gonna get a beating after you e slept

Feitan

Feitan has a pretty big first aid kit at his house, it’s not normal it has everything including allergy medicine

He’s gonna make you work you them, taunt You with them like they where candies and you where a toddler while you just sit there on the floor

He’s gonna give them to you only after you’ve begged on your knees, you don’t get a break after you take them because you on your knees like that turned him on

Uvogin

He thought about it happening but didn’t do anything about it, he figured it was a pretty low chance and it wouldn’t happen to you

He was wrong, there you are coughing and wheezing because you took one puff, eyes red, through hurting

He runs to the local pharmacy to grab you every different treatment method known to man to see what one you take and then just gives you all of them

#phinks x reader #Feitan x reader #shalnark x reader #uvogin x reader #chrollo x reader #illumi x reader #hisoka x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #chrollo hxh #hxh chrollo #hisoka hxh #hisoka #hxh hisoka #goes and snatches hisoka #uvogin #chrollo #hxh getting high #hisoka smut #hisoka x reader getting high #Chrollo x reader getting high #illumi x reader getting high #shalnark x reader getting high #Feitan x reader getting high #phinks x reader getting high #uvogin x reader getting high #uvogin hxh #hxh feitan x reader #feitan hxh #hxh uvo

[bitchsister]

i've been picturing this for quite some time - bucky and gale casually having a convo over work/random stuff, bucky ignoring curt who's desperately humping his thigh and whining like a cat in heat? they've been arguing over stuff (mostly it's curt's being a brat as always) and ignoring each other (with gale stuck in the middle of it) for almost a week? but of course curt couldn't bear any longer without bucky's touch, feeling so empty not having bucky's cock in him so he jumped on bucky every chance he got pitifully lol. maybe bucky winning the idgaf war for the first few tries 😈 and eventually curt won and bucky give it to him HARD

I literally took this and rrraaaaaaannnnn with it.

I’m sorry (not).

Once again, I went insane.

If you’re not locked in for this shit, do not read: Desperation, Bucky has some unsavory coping mechanisms when it comes to his anger, lowkey watersports that lasts two seconds (oop), Eiffel Tower ish, more butt plug action

I HAVE to start making these a little shorter lmaoooo

I hardly proof read this. Pls love me.

💘

It was torture.

Curt had royally fucked up, and he knew it but had been doing everything under the sun besides apologizing to get Bucky back in his good graces while Gale sat quietly in the middle and watched it all unfold.

A bad driver, yes, but worse after a joint and a bong rip.

Bucky let him borrow the Range Rover to run errands across town while he and Gale stayed back to work on their docket and finalize their defense — it was crunch time for them and things had become beyond stressful, John’s usual laid back demeanor becoming far more ridged and on edge.

“At least it ain’t totaled!” Curt threw his arms up once Bucky had scooped him from the auto shop in his Jeep, his nostrils flared as he drove and bit his tongue. He had too much to think about, too much on his mind. Curt and his antics had to take a backseat until he and Gale could tie up their loose ends.

Curtis couldn’t give in though, feeling like a puppy with its tail between its legs. There was no scolding, but the silence was almost worse. “C’mon..” he scurried after Bucky who neglected to open Curt’s door for him, or kiss him like he usually did when they pulled into the driveway.

“It’s hardly a dent!”

The entire fender had fallen off.

With no choice but to let it rest, Curt moped around. He listened to music in his usual spot, he draped himself over a flamingo float in the pool, naked as the day he was born with a pink sunburn on his ass. He sunbathed bare, he sat by the window in only his underwear, he sucked on popsicles that stained his lips red.

He’d caught Gale’s glance a couple times, but not Bucky’s.

Don’t you dare look at him, Gale.

He’s just — he’s so —

He’s a fuckin’ brat is what he is. He’s cost me ten grand because he’s a fucking stoner who can’t drive. We have work to do.

At night, Curt would fall asleep before Bucky would ever get into bed. Some nights he’d even fallen asleep on the couch in his study once Gale managed to wake himself up enough to drive home, unable to ignore the texts Curt had eventually sent to him after three days of it.

Please tell him to talk to me.

Does he hate me?

Should I leave?

Yes, Bucky was pissed off but it was something he simply needed to get out of his system, and that couldn’t happen when all they’d been doing was discussing risk assessments and trial evidence.

He’ll come around, Curt.

Just wait until Friday. By then we’ll be all wrapped up with everything.

He’s just stressed. I promise.

Curt had been practically clawing at the walls come the weeks end, plopping himself over Bucky’s knee who had given him the slight satisfaction of pressing his hand against Curt’s belly to steady him there. “Almost done?” He chirped, but got no response.

“Did you color code the sections, Gale? Are they all in order?” Bucky’s gaze had stuck on the man across the desk from him, a pen in his mouth as he nodded.

“Yes — you’re worrying will only make —“

“And what about the evidence slides?”

Their back and forth droned on and Curt could feel himself losing grip more and more. Bucky had hardly looked at him for a week, and Gale just the same. He felt like he was right back at the beginning again, wondering when the next text would come by and he’d get that familiar hit of dopamine.

Wyd?

You up?

Wanna come over?

Can I come get you?

“I think we’ve got it all figured out, B.” Curt’s tone was gentle, apprehensive. Bucky could curse him out if he wanted — he wouldn’t be wrong for it.

He ground his ass into Bucky’s knee, huffing softly at the sensation. Without John to pay him attention with his tongue, some fingers or with his and Gale’s cock, he was left to his own devices.

It was hardly as fun.

Bucky wasn’t budging though, holding Curt still by his belly but not moving his hand, not one single bit of attention truly paid to Curt as he fussed on and on about the organization of their defense binders.

“Bucky,” Curt whimpered, leaning his back against his chest as his hands, much smaller than Bucky’s, grasped onto the one that rested over his stomach. “It’s Friday — it’s late. C’mon.”

Gale blinked at the two, his fingers idly scrambling to show each section of the binder Bucky anxiously asked to see without missing a beat or becoming too distracted by a panting and so desperate looking Curtis who spread himself out over Bucky’s lap, a pout visible.

It looked like he could get himself off that way, writhing and whining against Bucky’s body like the friction would be enough to set him over the edge.

“It’s all right here, Bucky. We have this down, buddy.” Gales eyes went soft, his tone assuring. “You’re the best lawyer I’ve ever seen work cases like this.” He was rounding third and headed for home — they were painfully close to the weekend, so far away from Monday morning court rooms.

C’mon, Galey.

“Being diligent never hurt.” Bucky went monotone, turning the binder again to flip through it himself. “It’s horseshoes and hand grenades — close isn’t good enough, Gale.”

One of Gale’s habits was diagnosing the people in his life, whether they knew it or not.

Bucky over time had acquired a wide range of diagnosis, though Gale couldn’t really nail down a few of them unless he put him through some testing, which he was unsure he was legally allowed to ask of him.

And Curt.

Christ.

He was a whole other story.

So imagine the line he towed, the way he held his tongue. Curtis had been open minded to his grounding techniques which he’d been getting better at implementing — in fact, Gale was astonished Curt had gone an entire week without lashing out at anyone.

He would count to ten instead. He’d remind himself Bucky still loved him, because the opposite was a silly thought, and he’d occupy his time with things that he enjoyed, rather than ways to get Bucky back under his wing.

He’d tried so hard.

He buried his face in the pillow on Bucky’s side of the bed and willed himself to make do with what he was given, but he failed time and time again. He felt so desperate, so hopeless. He’d fall asleep with the pillow that was losing his scent tucked against his chest.

Too much time had passed now, though.

It was becoming cruel torture.

Hips rocking against Bucky’s knee, he had totally lost all sense of self — his dignity taking a ding, no less. It hardly mattered anymore. No embarrassment could be felt on his part in front of two men who have picked him apart and fucked every piece.

“Curtis,” Bucky murmured, his brows furrowed at the little body that rut against him like a tiny dog who’d never been fixed, claiming its territory the only way it knew how. “You’re being fucking ridiculous.”

Curt gripped onto the side of Bucky’s desk, panting as he ground his ass stuffed with the only thing that’s kept him sane the past week — his first plug, the one Bucky had bought him under the pretense that Curt would wear it to class.

Of course wearing it to class had turned into wearing it to dinner, to the movies, in the passenger seat of Bucky’s now bruised up Range Rover.

“No, you are.” Curtis huffed, his eyes half lidded.

The siren.

Gale had made direct eye contact and had practically turned to stone, eyes wider than he’d like them to be as he watched intently with his hands frozen over the desk, picking idly at Bucky’s filled-to-the-brim calendar beneath his forearms. “Bucky..” his voice was strained, but his eyes had shown some sort of remorse.

Curt’s eyes had looked puffy lately, his shoulders sulked when he passed the study and neglected his spot near the window for a spot in the garden alone, instead.

“Gale.” Bucky mumbled, sights narrowed in his direction that time — he didn’t seem to be letting up, headstrong in whatever philosophy he felt he was upholding.

Gale had recently told Bucky he needed to be a little more firm in his expressions. Always a maybe, hardly ever a yes or no.

It seems he’d taken that to heart.

“Look at him.” Gales voice was still deep and quiet, trailing off near the tail end whilst Curt squirmed atop Bucky with red cheeks and messy hair as he moaned into his hands. “It’s been a whole week.”

“Gale, he wrecked my car.” Bucky pressed his hand firmly into Curt’s chest to still him but it was hardly any use.

“I get it — “ Gale mumbled back, “it’s pocket change, Johnny. Look how much he’s missed you.” He rose to his feet and bent over the desk, unable to leave poor Curt to writhe alone that way while his hands cupped the pink cheeks that’d become damp with desperate tears. “Poor baby.”

Curt’s black lashes fluttered in a haze, his lips parted where little puffs of determined breaths escaped while he rest his arms over the desk to assist his efforts in violating Bucky’s knee.

“I’m sorry, Curtie.” Gale continued softly, more kisses peppering Curt’s cheeks as the sound of his desperate efforts filled the study and seeped through the open windows into the garden.

Completely undone. So close, but so far. “Need it,” Curt whimpered, not daring to reach for Bucky’s cock because being shoved away would send him into a spiral. “Please — I — I’ll be so good,” hardly intelligible, barely a squeak once he’d gotten the words out.

“Ohh,” Gale cooed, his features softening again at the sight. He kissed away Curt’s tears again, swiping the rest away with his thumbs. “You’re asking nice, hm? Maybe just a little nicer,” he stifled his own moan at the sight, Curt crumbling in his hands. “You know how he likes his good boy, don’t you? Show him how good you can be, baby.”

Curt hiccuped as he inhaled, filling his lungs with the breath he’d been holding. “I fuckin’ have been!” His tone morphed into that of utter frustration through a clenched jaw that had began to ache, just like the rest of him.

It was an accident, the pressure built up inside of him pushing itself out — before he had truly noticed what he’d done, it was too late.

Bucky’s knee grew warmer and at first he’d hardly paid it any attention until it hadn’t gone away. “You didn’t-“ he grabbed Curt’s hips forcefully to move him aside and eyed the damp little spot left over his knee, “Curtis — you did fucking not just—“

“I’m so — I’m sorry. I’msorryI’msorry,”

Oh, the tears had tripled.

Gale still held his face and shushed him, a thought in the back of his mind had pondered the idea that Bucky deserved it, in some way.

Until Curt was shoved over the desk, the binder Bucky’d been fussing for hours over thudding onto the floor in a heap, now long forgotten and replaced by a pair of dickies that needed washing now, a far too sympathetic Gale and a Curtis whose wet cheek muddied the ink written in the tiny boxes of Bucky’s work calendar.

“Bucky, it was an accident,” Gale whispered, watching John yank Curt’s damp jeans off of him and toe them away carefully, an open palm slapped against perky, sunburnt cheeks that had been spending too much time outside with too little sunscreen. “He didn’t mean to, did you, baby?”

“No, I didn’t - I didn’t mean to,” Curt was reeling at the feeling of cool air tickling over his prickly skin. “I promise — I’m so-so-“ he’d been cut off by another open handed clap against his skin, a moan chasing after the whine forced out of him.

His body wiggled over the desk he stayed draped over, his wrists held behind his back with Bucky’s left hand, the other pressing a middle and index finger against the base of Curt’s plug to push it a little deeper into him.

His thighs trembled, damp and spreading apart further for Bucky whose hands were rough and unforgiving.

For the first time in a long time, he felt shame.

Desperation at its finest — so long were any ideals he previously philosophized. He was suddenly becoming nothing without them, the reaper of what he sowed.

And, so be it.

Bucky hardly gave him any spit, shoving his hips forward into Curt who gasped over the desktop, his eyes half lidded and staring at Gale who crouched before him, their lips locking for sporadic durations of sloppy and uncoordinated exchanges.

Cherry. Curt always tasted like cherry. “Oh,” Gale hummed, voice deep and living somewhere in his chest. “Look at you — just made for taking it. Our good boy.”

Curt was so pliant in Gale’s hands, jaw clenched in his palm as he held him in place; so soft and flushed a gentle pink, black lashes fluttering over damp, puffy cheeks.

Bucky was a mess of floppy brown curls falling into his eyes once his hips had developed a ruthless rhythm, Curt’s body beneath him malleable and so willing to please, each breath he took a stuttered choke on his blathering. “Right—right— there” he hiccuped through strangled breathes, “Fucking — fuck me— please”

Beneath him, Bucky’s handwriting muddied more into the pages of his calendar with the evidence of his so called punishment. “You like that, don’t you?” His hips had slowed so abruptly, neither Curt nor Gale could register it. “You’re far from deserving.”

Curt twisted himself to lie on his back instead, sprawled over the desk with his head hanging over the side, his legs spread and his mouth opening pliantly as he looked to Gale again who deserved a little loving, too.

“Oh, good boy.” Bucky cooed, palms flattening against the inside of Curt’s thighs to spread them wider as he watched Gale waste no time undressing himself, his leaking cock taken obediently into Curt’s warm, wet throat. “Make me take it back immediately, huh? No surprise.”

“You’re so fucking — god,” Gale couldn’t see his face anymore, just the mouth that his hips sputtered into but he knew Curt still looked like an angel, even despite the angle he was at. “Don’t care the brat you can be. You’re so good at makin’ up for it.”

Curt’s throat vibrated with a happy little hum, body wracked with shivers and tingles once Bucky began to fuck into him, hooking a hand around Gales neck to pull him closer and kiss him — hot, wet, hurried. As if he just needed anything to occupy his mouth. “Come with me, Gale.” He whispered against Gales lips who bit back a moan. “Make him swallow it.”

Each of their rendezvous had sent him farther and farther into his descent.

What are we?

What is this?

Do I love two men?

Do they love me?

Gale finished first, choking Curt on his cock and then the ribbons and ribbons of white hot pleasure that trickled hot and wet down his throat that he swallowed without hardly wasting a drop despite his belly that tensed as he gagged — this angle was tough, but Gale liked watching Curt struggle a little.

Once Gale backed away, the mouth he’d fucked was kissed by Bucky who licked into it, tasting Gale, swapping spit, biting tongues and lips and chins like animals in a deadly heat.

Curt’s belly grew warmer with a familiar sensation, little body spent atop the desk where his thighs shook and tensed together, his orgasm falling from the sky and straight onto him like some sort of atomic bomb.

His body lay spent and sprawled over Bucky’s table, their once organized files turned into heaps of now disordered mess and chaos. “Happy now, aren’t you?” Bucky tapped an open hand over Curt’s thigh, watching him grin and nod his head, unable to use his voice.

His throat was raw, his body still shuddered with the aftermath of his orgasm, “Told you he’d come back around.” Gale bent down to kiss Curt’s damp forehead, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

(Do you like the extra spaces between paragraphs? Is it easier to read?????? Anyway… lmk…..)

#💌 #lcau #curtbucky #Curtbuckygale #yoyo writes

[clementine-writes-things]

Edward Nashton Headcanons

Summary: My personal headcanons for Edward Nashton. Again, these are MY personal headcanons and I use them for when I write about him. So, yeah. I can't believe I'm just now writing headcanons for this guy. This is long overdue.

Content Warning: Sexual themes (there will be a section for NSFW headcanons), angst, trauma, and smoking. I have so many headcanons for this man...

(literally going to eat him)

~Read Below Cut~

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(Before this starts, I want to clarify something. Run Rabbit Run, a series I made, is my personal 'background' story for y/n and Edward. Of course I don't use that story in all my Edward Nashton fanfics bc I have other ideas yk. But, overall, it's my personal headcanon story for him. So a lot of these headcanons will apply to that. I hope that makes sense lmao. Run rabbit run is like my concrete headcanon, and every other fanfic I've written about Edward is pretty loosey goosey and just for fun.)

(ALSO IN MY HEADCANON HE NEVER BOMBED THE SEAWALL AND ONLY KILLED FALCONE AND THOSE DIRTY POLITICIANS SO SHUT UP BLAHBLAHBLAH I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT GOTHAM BEING UNDER WATER RAHHHHHHH <3 okie thx)

SFW Headcanons:

He has autism 110%. He got tested for it when he got out of the orphanage and was not surprised when he discovered he had it.

He loves journaling. Sometimes he will scrapbook. He likes to document his feelings/thoughts, especially when he's feeling down.

One of my headcanons is that his Riddler persona is always apart of him. He can't 'get rid' of it. So, he goes to therapy to deal with it and the journaling helps a lot with it.

^following off on that, I think that after the bombing and after being with y/n he genuinely tries to reform. He would use his 'crave for justice' and apply it to protesting and standing up for human rights and stuff like that. So like, imagine roaringkitty from Dumb Money. He always informed ppl about stocks. Edward is like that except it's about social justice and equality. Slay.

He really loves fruit. Like a lot. He favors kiwi and watermelon a lot.

he likes to make protein shakes/smoothies for breakfast a lot!

because he's a boyfriend that acts like a dad, y/n once got him a "World's Best Dad" shirt for April Fools (since that's also his birthday, y/n actually got him a real gift too which was a photo of them in a cute little picture frame) but he found the shirt to be really funny so he'll occasionally wear it out in public and everyone is always confused

"World's best dad? How many kids do you have?" A woman asked.

"None."

"Oh..."

*he proceeds to leave the conversation and leave the woman extremely confused and concerned*

He smoked for a little while when he didn't care about his own health, but he stopped when he started dating y/n. It's difficult for him, but with y/n's encouragement he's doing a great job.

he goes to therapy

he listens to Lana Del Rey occasionally, but only cuz y/n listens to her...although he doesn't mind listening to her music...

although he doesn't really look like it, he LOVES metal. His favorite bands for heavy metal/ NU metal is as follows (ranked from most fav to least fav): System Of A Down, Megadeth, Korn, Slipknot, Metallica, Slayer)

Other bands/singers he likes are (in no order/specific genre): The Cramps, Weezer, Green Day, ICP, Gorillaz, Billy Idol, I Monster, Talking Heads (he loves the Talking Heads sm)

He also likes 'oldies' like The Inkspots, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Billie Holiday.

When he started dating y/n, he started to listen to hyperpop (bc y/n listens to hyperpop IN MY HEADCANON)

He isn't the biggest fan of hyperpop, but he doesn't HATE it. he actually loves some certain songs/artists. (mainly likes Lumi Athena and 100 gecs)

when edward and y/n go out to a social gathering, it looks like this:

but tbh, that's just how they look next to each other 24/7 lmao

edward loves to read books, especially classics like Frankenstein, Dracula, For Whom The Bell Tolls, A Clockwork Orange, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (bro loves banned books)

loves spoiling y/n with all his heart. the only thing keeping him from being a sugar daddy is that he is in the same age range as y/n. but other than that, he literally acts like a sugar daddy.

has a BUNCH of nicknames he made specifically for y/n such as: rabbit, bunny, firecracker, spazz, crackhead/drophead, and the sweetest one of all... "dickrider🥺" and he calls them that during silly little arguments or when y/n gets sassy

"Blah blah blah, Edward. I don't wanna hear it." - y/n

"Whatever, dickrider." - Edward

"'Scuse me?" - y/n

"You heard me. Dickrider." - Edward

"I am not a dickrider!" - y/n

"Well..." - Edward

"No." - y/n

"Wellllll..." - Edward

"No. Shush." - y/n

"Fine...dickrider..." -Edward

"EDWARD!" - y/n

Edward dresses like a 40 y/o divorced dad trying to learn the floss at a BBQ in a relatives backyard (so slacks and a polo/button up shirt)

y/n forces him to expand his wardrobe so he occasionally wears actual t-shirts and jeans sometimes, shorts, sweaters, etc.

Edward occasionally likes to grow out his hair slightly (kinda like Paul Dano's haircut in Ruby Sparks)

dyes his hair occasionally (mainly black but he once did black with SUBTLE dark green highlights)

he hates oatmeal, porridge, grits, Jell-O, and pudding. the consistency makes him want to scream. (same)

he is the most LGBTQIA+ friendly person ever. if he is meeting someone for the first time, he asks their pronouns.

i think that he is queer. i don't think he really has a specific sexuality. he's just queer, yk? but, that's really it.

goes to pride parades with y/n (I HEADCANON HIM DATING A NON-BINARY SHE/THEY AFAB PERSON OK LEAVE ME ALONEEE)

he GENUINELY loves to sing and will often sing y/n to sleep if they are having trouble.

he can play lots of instruments but has a preference for guitars (electric/bass/acoustic)

loves Breaking Bad.

hates Walter White.

he makes references to the show so much that it's concerning

"Oh shit! I just broke this plate!" - y/n

"Is it bad?" - Edward

"No, not really, bu-" - y/n

"Did it break bad?" - Edward

"Edward..." - y/n

"Was it breaking bad?" - Edward

"Get out of my apartment." - y/n

"Can you still cook? Can you still cook after breaking bad?" - Edward

"Edward Nashton, I'm going to hurt you." - y/n

he really likes stop motion moves, he admires how much work is put into them (loves Fantastic Mr. Fox the most. Coraline is a close second.)

he doesn't mind PDA, he actually loves it. he's proud to show off his partner (but he doesn't do anything more than kissing and cuddling in public...sometimes...maybe in a bathroom or a closet...hehe...)

sometimes he'll have nightmares about the orphanage and he'll wake up crying. y/n will hold him and comfort him back to sleep. he'll tell his therapist about the dream asap and work through it with them.

he'll also have nightmares about being the 'Riddler' again. those scare the shit out of him. he doesn't want to be that person again. his past haunts him frequently, even though he is reformed.

he knows how to sew very well and will sew customizations on his clothing and y/n's clothing. Example: hearts on their jeans, question marks on his sweatpants, stuff like that.

he knows that no one will truly forget what he did as the 'Riddler', but he hopes that donating to charities, raising money for them, and giving advice to others will show people that he's a changed man. but, all that really matters is that y/n knows he's a changed man.

practices drawing/painting/sketching in his free time (he loves to use charcoal, water colors, and oil pastels)

he hates when his skin is dry, so he lotions all the time. he has the softest skin ever. but, his hands are usually rough because he plays guitar and he has callouses built up. yet, it feels oddly nice against y/n's skin.

RANDOM THINGS I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD SAY: (ik this isn't really a headcanon but i just want you to see how much of a nerd/weirdo he is)

"You know, flamingos get their pink color from eating carotenoids. They are born a pale grey, but over time they get the pink hue that we know them for. Although, it's very rare for them to be a hot pink, more of a coral."

"No, y/n, you cannot drink the dish soap and burp bubbles. I don't think that's even possible."

*watching Tom & Jerry* "These physics are so unrealistic. Tom would be pulverized underneath that anvil. Blood and guts would be everywhere." *y/n looks at him with a horrified look* "Um, I mean...what a...what a goofy cat..."

*walks up to y/n with his phone in his hand* "So uh, one of my twitch followers in my stream today said I was 'Serving... *spells out c*nt*' and they also said that I 'ate and...left no crumbs?' is that a good thing?" *y/n laughs* "That's a very good thing." *he smiles*

"I saw a pigeon get it's head stuck in a donut today. It reminded me of you."

"Male ducks have corkscrew penises. So, they literally screw each other."

"Please stop putting your fingers in my mouth when I yawn."

"Yes I want a damn scooby snack. They sound fucking delicious."

"How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions, y/n? How!?"

"Y/n, be honest...do these jeans my butt look big?"

"A kid at the library threw a book at me and I contemplated drop kicking him."

"Please, for the love of God. Stop calling me the Rizzler. I...I don't know what that means..."

"Are you the backrooms? Cuz, I think I'm getting lost inside of you. Wait...that sounds weird. Um, forget that. Do you wanna kiss me now?"

"I'm not straight, but...that's all."

"One of my followers on Twitch said I look like the moon emoji. Banned."

"Edward, I'm afraid we can't make mac & cheese tonight. We're all out." - y/n

"Why? Do not be afraid..." - Edward (in the most deadpan voice)

"Well...now I'm very afraid..." - y/n

NSFW HEADCANONS! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!:

Dom all the way. He has too much of an ego to be a sub. Ik a lot of ppl say he would be a sub, but I strongly disagree. Maybe he'd try it a few times.

This guy is too kinky, it would take 500 pages to list them (not rlly but ykwim)

He can bounce back between being completely vanilla and being ao3 type of kinky

some of his personal fav kinks are: BDSM (bro is sadistic prove me wrong), he is also a bit of a masochist though; choking; overstimulation; he has a daddy/sir kink; he actually likes roleplay a good bit, but it just has to be something good.

(one time y/n and Edward tried to do a college professor/college student roleplay and it was so fucking funny they couldn't go through with it. y/n said "Is there anything I can do to make my grade better Professor Nashton?" and he said "Do a better job...?" and that's when they both realized they couldn't get through it.)

Edward doesn't think sex is super important in a relationship, so he can go a long time without it. But, sometimes...he just wants to touch y/n. Not even have sex. Let me explain...

^sometimes he'll ask y/n if he can just finger them or eat them out, something like that. he doesn't even want to cum, he just wants to make them cum.

He developed a fond and cruel taste for teasing y/n in public. Sometimes he'll subtly make a fingering motion if he's picking something up. Or, he'll rub their inner thigh while sitting at a table. He usually only does this if y/n has an 'attitude' or if he wants to hint that he wants to have sex that night. However, if y/n ever gets uncomfortable during his teasing, all they have to do is tap him on the knee/shoulder and he'll know. They both respect boundaries <3

This is a bit of an angsty one, but sometimes during sex, he'll realize how lucky he is to be with y/n. So, he'll stop whatever he was doing and just hold them close to him. The sex after that is usually gentle and soft, which y/n actually really likes. He'll cry and tell them that he loves them so much and when they are both done, he'll just spoon them and find comfort in their body heat.

he is the KING of weird sex positions and weird places to have sex. he once fucked y/n in the closet at one of their friends house. it was cramped, so he had one of their ankles lifted on his shoulder and their other leg hoked around his waist. if y/n wants him to fuck them, he'll find a way. trust.

he really likes being praised during sex bc it makes him feel proud. it also feeds his ego a lot, but eh! hehe

if there was a competition for who could "do the best dirty talk" Edward would win it immediately by a landslide. y/n was the first person he ever had sex with, but they swear it was like he was a "professional" at it. he says such vulgar and erotic things and its jarring coming from such a sweet face. y/n loves it. what things does he say? well, let's start with sweet things he'll say during sex...

"You're so breathtaking below me, y/n. You're glowing."

"How is it that you looks so angelic while I'm fucking you?"

"You're doing such a good job, baby. You feel so good."

"That's it cara mia, cum for Eddie."

"You're making my heart race, honey. It just might burst out of my chest if you keep this up..."

^Aw, wasn't that so sweet :3 hehe, that's what he says a lot during vanilla and occasionally during some kinky sex. but, what does he say when he's in a "I'm going to fuck the soul out of you" mood? Uh...

"I know it feels heavenly, but you really ought to keep your voice down. You don't want to get caught, do you? Or, perhaps...that's exactly what you want. So filthy..." (while fucking you in a public bathroom)

"I wonder how long it'll take you to start begging for more...oh, there we go. Hm, not long at all..."

"I won't bite you hard, maybe, but I can't say the same about fucking you."

"What's the matter, rabbit? All fucked out and dumb? But, I haven't even started round 3 yet..."

"If you want it so bad, then why don't you bark for it? Yes, I'm aware you're not a dog, but I assure I can easily leash you up like one if you aren't a good girl/boy."

"I'm going to make sure you can't walk straight for a week. You know I can do it."

"You were starving for it. You were drooling over it. Now, you're gagging on it. How's it feel shoved down your pretty throat?"

"I don't care if they can hear us. That just means they know how good you're getting dicked down. Why don't you moan my name a little louder, make sure they remember who's doing this to you."

"'Oh Edward! Edward!' You sound so fucking cute when you're whining. Do it again. Louder."

"Suck on it like it's fucking candy. You're gonna get every last drop."

"Look at you. Before, you were teasing me in public, torturing me. And now, your face is shoved in the mattress while I'm fucking you from behind. Not so fucking cocky now, are you?"

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEEH

He's also AMAZING at aftercare. He'll give y/n a bath, sometimes he'll even take a shower with them.

He will always clean y/n's legs/pelvic area (and anywhere else that needs cleaning) with a damp rag every single time they finish having sex.

If he was particularly rough with y/n, he'll give them a gentle massage afterwards and tell them how good they did.

being the paranoid boyfriend that he is, he'll always remind y/n to pee afterwards so they don't get a UTI. he'll also tell them to drink lots of water.

One of his favorite things to do for aftercare is have them lay across his lap or sit on his lap or snuggle up against his side as they both watch a movie or TV show (it's usually Breaking Bad or My Little Pony. the duality of man.)

Tbh, if he can't make y/n's legs sore for at least an entire day after having sex, he doesn't think he did a good job.

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #dc universe #gotham #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #danonator #danocel #dano riddler #paul dano riddler #batman 2022

[termagax]

having a comic idea in my brain but i dont wanna get up and sketch it but i cant write it in the way i want to because i am cursed to think in pictures but i cant. draw it rn.

#OH WELL. i just wanna know what their story mode journal entries would be like and i have some ideas #fish resents the entire concept of being forced to keep some kind of log and mostly uses it to complain about shit. l dear dumb diary #type shit like dear my stupid fucking diary that my stupid fucking boss is making me do. but they do actually do it because they cant bring #themselves to be mean to winston they just do it mad the whole time #they try to bother the boys into showing hir theirs and i think junkrats using his like a sketchbook to do little doodles instead of #actually writing anything and people just let him. maybe he lies and tells mercy he cant read so command just lets him get away w it #in my mind theres a tangential conversation where he has a lot of doodles of sojourn doing cool stuff and fish points out that he knows a #lot about overwatch and hes like yeah? i watched the old broadcasts as a kid. and theyre like ??????? how did you get a fucking tv in the #wasteland. and hes like OH well my mum was real handy where do you think i get my brilliance from. in my mind his mom was a tinkerer and a #fairly compassionate and decent woman who kind of taught him some of the basics before she died sometime when he was a kid/tween #anyways then they notice roadhog is spending a weirdly long time writing his and he wont show it to them so they just fucking wrassle it #away from him. i cant decide the funniest thing to be on there between genuinely journaling with a lot of emotion or hes writing some #shitty original novel or something. like brigs poetry where its just really bad but very earnest.