#HN-GROUP
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Anyone for more Hand Naked Wednesday?
Yeah I know... I've lost the plot. Not for the first time. But given how popular the hands were last week I thought I'd continue the theme



And for those of you who prefer it more old school on HNW


#shaun evans#itv endeavour#endeavour morse#hnw#aka the wednesday special#special interest group: hands edition#close up hands edition#plus some actual hn Evans#catering for both interest groups#because I like to please you all...#hot damn evans
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
does anyone remember that one Naruto fanfiction from 2019 called “I’m a God!!!” where the male oc gets hit by a truck and wakes up to Saiki K. just… dumping all his powers onto the OC? and then he woke up in the womb with Sasuke and he kicked the fetus so much that people in the comments thought it would come out deformed.
then the author posted a chapter that announced that they were abandoning the fic because they wrote it when they were 10
#I think it’s deleted now someone pls find it#it was the funniest thing I’d ever read#he was friends with the Madara era ppl too#he got kidnapped by orochimaru#there were hints of uchiha classes where they learn the language of ‘hn’#i think he was romancing that one femboy from the first arc#looking back on it… it’s not a surprise that a ten year old wrote it#they’re the only creatures who would come up with that shit#naruto#fanfictions#crack fics#wattpad#saiki k#I think the tailed beasts used his mindscape as a hangout spot#he learned rock paper scissors techniques from Gon#he was overprotective of itachi and I’m pretty sure he was a teacher to Ino’s group#sasuke uchiha#itachi uchiha
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not you all already ignoring what she said
#yes i hate j*hn mayer as much as the rest but unlike jg... he doesnt stay in his lane and he definitely didn't when the og version came out#sooo maybe listen to her?#for a group of ppl who are determined to obey her 24/7... u sure pick ur moments to not do that unwisely
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
FDI Amiral Ronarc'h, première sortie en mer / sea trials... Θαλάσσια επισκόπηση της Πρώtης FDI Belh@rra . Έπεται η ΚΙΜΩΝ. (Video)
youtube
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
Captain Marvel not understanding anything about technology yet somehow being a technopath
I think it should be established that Billy Batson knows nothing about technology. He was stuck in the time bubble for over 50 years, and even then (before during and after), he’s a street kid. Man’s still on radio and old vehicles.
Every time she leaned something slightly techie, he gets flabbergasted. Mispronounces the name of so many machines and has no idea what’s the differences between an IPod and an IPhone. He understands even less why Sam’s song is beefing with an apple???
Having said that, Captain Marvel can be terrifyingly proficient in tech at random times, and the reasoning behind it is so dumb that any tech-savie person in the vicinity are either banging their heads or foaming in jealousy.
Electrics use electricity. Cap is technically Living Lightning. And magical. All Cap needs to do is think about something for it to appear in the nearest screens.
Batman: the access to the security are heavily locked and would take to much time to enter from the outside
Marvel: I got it! *camera footage appear on the screen*
Batman: hn?
*or*
Oracle: I need to bypass multiple firewalls. The coding is so complex, but if you give me ten minutes-
Marvel: oh it’s cool *waves his hand*
Oracle: …
Oracle: did you crack the code by waving your hand…
Marvel: yeah I just swishes off the weird blocks
Oracle, inwardly: THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE
Oracle, outwardly: *noticeably restrained* cool 🙂
*Or*
Marvel: Hey Vic, do you want to get milkshakes?
Cyborg: I can’t, the father box is acting up. I’ve been glitching all day.
Marvel: oh let me help
Cyborg: you can’t just-
Marvel: *slaps Victors shoulder* there!
Cyborg: … how???
Marvel: I asked nicely! 😁
Cyborg: I’m going to die now
Bonus:
Somewhere in a dark unused part of the watchtower, many capes gathered.
Barbara Gordon: Today we will welcome a new member to our support group. Introduce yourself, tell us why you’re here and will can start the meeting.
Roy Harper: Hi, I’m Arsenal, and today Captain Marvel broke my grenade launcher. He then felt bad and made me a pocket rocket launcher. Meaning it’s a rocket launcher but when I press a button, it turns into a small box for me to carry around. I asked him why make a rocket launcher and not a grenade launcher, and he asked me what’s the difference.
*echoes of ‘oooh’ and ‘welcome to the club’*
Tim Drake: I taught him on how to set a Facebook account and helped him set his profile. I go out to get an energy drink. I come back and he’s hacking conversations of the mafia, giving me info on the trafficking ring I’ve been tracking for a month.
*sympathising nods from everyone*
Jaime Reyes: Last Thursday, my scarab got scratched and was having trouble repairing itself. Marvel came in and put a bandaid on it. The worse part is… it actually worked.
*cue groans through out the room*
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#just make him tech savvy without knowing what any of it means#Solomon is studying up on modern tech and is loving it#living lightning
863 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.
It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.
Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.
Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.
They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’
Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?
Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.
A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.
A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.
And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.
It was an eclectic collection of items.
And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.
Again, it was concerning.
So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.
After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.
Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.
Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.
It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.
All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.
Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.
Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.
When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.
“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”
Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.
Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.
“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”
The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”
Batman glares at him.
“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”
Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”
“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.
“Hn.”
Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.
They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.
The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.
The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.
“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”
Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”
The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.
“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.
“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.
Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”
The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.
“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”
Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.
Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.
Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.
She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….
‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’
She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-
Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.
Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.
She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.
White boots pass in front of her eyes.
She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.
As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.
She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.
Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.
““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”
The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.
The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.
“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“
The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.
“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆”̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵̫͗ ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀
The man whimpers under the claws.
"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔
There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.
All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.
The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.
On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.
As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.
Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.
Diana’s arm tingles.
Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.
Silence reigns in the room.
Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.
“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.
“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”
Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”
The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”
Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.
The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”
“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”
The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”
Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”
The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”
Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“
“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”
Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.
“Hn.”
“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.
Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.
The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.
Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.
A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.
Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.
The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.
“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”
Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.
#batman#danny phantom#batfam#dc#danny fenton#batman and robin#danny phantom crossover#young justice#bruce wayne#wonder woman#dpxdc#cryptid Danny fenton#John Constantine#Zatanna Zatara#dpdc#dp
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, I'm both curious and interested in starting a fight among the Batman fandom
There's an old joke where the Batmobile is failing to start. Batman says:
"Robin, can you check the battery?"
To which Robin says:
"What's a tery?"
I was just curious which Robin this would have been. Funniest and most likely answer are both acceptable
Here's my answers: All of them made this exact joke. Dick came by it honestly, that's his sense of humor, especially because he likes needling Bruce for a reaction, he is never as proud of himself as when he can get Batman to laugh and dumb jokes are his FAVORITE way of getting a rise out of the man. Jason would make the joke, because he was trying to live up to Dick Grayson's legacy and mold himself in the same image, so he made jokes that weren't really his style sometimes and it was really cute, because Bruce would smile, but the times he would get a real laugh out of Bruce were when he made his own style of jokes. Tim would do it because he was beating Nightwing to the punch on a joke, because Tim Drake may be a Dick Grayson stan first and a human being second, but that often came out in the form of, "I must steal my favorite human being's joke So He Will Approve Of Me." This 100% works, Dick acts offended that his line was stepped on, but he laughs and noogies Tim's head because that's now his baby brother. Steph would do it because she's trying to fit in at the time, trying to live up to the mantle of Robin, because she's seen Tim step on people's jokes and how it's a good ice-breaker and she's really working hard at this. Damian would do it because Damian is The Funniest Child Alive Actually and will whip out a joke when you least expect it, but also because that child's foundation as a superhero was 100% Dick Grayson and sometimes he misses Dick so he makes Dick's stupid joke for him. Ultra Hot Take: Sometimes all five of them try for it at once and NOBODY is happy at the ensuing chaos, because someone has to Win at the joke, because if you're all reaching for it, nobody is annoyed In The Right Way when you make it. EXCEPT when Bruce makes an annoyed little "Hn." noise and then they all swivel their heads towards him at the exact same speed and light up with unholy glee and start chirping it on repeat. "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" on repeat for a solid 30 seconds like a group of parrots in an echo chamber. It's uncanny and Bruce hates it, but, hey, it's teamwork and he wanted them to work together better, don't punish the behavior you want to see, Bruce.
469 notes
·
View notes
Text
Warfare
You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)
Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised
Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”
Batman: “No. Marvel?”
Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*
Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”
Marvel: “Cholera.”
Batman: “What.”
Marvel: “Cholera.”
Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”
Marvel: “Oh.”
Batman: “Yeah.”
*silence*
Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”
Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”
Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”
Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”
Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”
So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.
Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.
Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)
Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”
Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”
Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”
Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”
Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”
Marvel: “Oh.”
Batman: “Yeah.”
*silence*
Marvel: “My bad.”
*more silence*
Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”
Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”
Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)
This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.
Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.
Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*
Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*
Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.
Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”
Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”
Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”
Marvel: “You got it boss.”
And last but not least, the physical warfare.
By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.
That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#batman#bruce wayne
782 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kinktober Day 23
Miguel x F!Reader (Bondage)
Summary: Miguel is tired of you running around the Spider Society and needs you to sit down and listen for five minutes.
Warning: MINOR DNI, SMUT, bondage, webs being used in ways they shouldn't be used, overstimulation
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
There a good number of things that drove Miguel up a wall. Many of them were due to either his job at Alchemax, or his position at the Spider Society.
Apart from those two, another thing that made Miguel crazy was you.
You were pretty much the hyper active child of the Spider Society. Always swinging around, making a fuss where ever you go. Miguel was getting tired of having to find you and sit you down for even five minutes.
"(Y/N), come to my office," Miguel said with a heavy sigh as he called you via watch.
"Can't right now, Miggy! I'm having a race!"
"Where?!"
"Uhhhhh....can't....bzzz....you..."
Miguel felt his eye twitch as you hung up on him. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, Lyla ever so happily showed him the footage of you racing with some other Spider people. The group of you bumping into pillars left and right.
Honestly, Miguel loved the hyper go-energy you had. He just wished you stood still enough for him to admire you. Watching your body twist and turn made Miguel's mind wander. What did he have to do to keep you still?
Miguel slumped in his seat wondering if you would still try to move if he ever fucked you.
"Hehe, okay, I won! What did you need, Miggy? I have like...three people to meet soon!" You chirped as you swung into his office.
"You're going to have to cancel," Miguel groaned softly, wanting to hide his erection.
"Awe! No fair, you know~ I'll just come bac-"
You gasped as Miguel fired his webbing towards you. With ease, you legs were bound and you had fallen onto the floor. Right when you were going to break free, Miguel swung over and webbed your hands together. Like a fish, you flopped over to face him.
"Fine! Fine, I'll listen." You pouted. Miguel hovered over you, his breathe against your neck,
"Why do you have to make things so difficult?" He asked, causing your heart to race a bit, "Is this how I have to get you to stay still?"
"I guess,"
Miguel was so close to you. Having both your hands and legs tied was making both your mind and heart race. As you looked into his crimson eyes, you couldn't help but lean towards Miguel. You had always found Miguel handsome.
As if he read your mind, Miguel captured your lips in a kiss. His hands rested against your knees, slowly breaking the binding. As you melted into the kiss, you didn't realize that Miguel had positioned himself between your legs, webbing your already bonded hands to the unmovable object.
"Mhm~ Mig-" You gasped between kisses, squirming slightly as you felt his body against yours.
"Shh, you were doing so well," Miguel groaned.
You wanted to whine. You wanted to move, but Miguel was making it difficult. Perhaps if you kept moving, you would get out of his webbing?
--------
"Ah~ Hn~"
"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Don't wanna move now?"
You had become a moaning mess as Miguel pounded your pussy with his dick. Every time you tried to move, Miguel would change positions, keeping you bounded.
"Mhm~" You flinched as you felt your orgasm approaching.
"No moving remember?" Miguel chuckled.
Webbing your legs up, Miguel leaned into you even deeper than before. His breathing getting heavier as you came upon change. You weren't sure how much more your body could take. Drool was rolling down your cheek as your body kept asking for more.
Your pussy was twitching with every slap of his dick. Your body felt like it was on fire as you started to lose your sense of reason. You wanted to say that it hurt, but you couldn't. Miguel was making a mess of you and felt so damn good.
"Shit, I'm going to cum, (Y/N)." Miguel groaned lowly.
Hearing those words again made your brain spin. You whined and moaned in response as Miguel's pace picked up again. His thick cock pounding against your cervix, ready to unload inside you again.
"Stay still and drink up," Miguel hummed.
Your body arched forward, moaning as you felt him cum inside you. The two of you took a moment to rest before Miguel undid his webs. Your arms and legs flopped to the ground as you breathed heavily.
"You moved again, (Y/N). I have so much to teach you still," Miguel chuckled as he lifted you up against his chest.
"Lemme....rest first."
"But then you haven't learned."
You whined softly as Miguel webbed your hands behind your back as he sat you against his lap. Your pussy swallowed his dick with ease as you let your body rest against him.
"Another round should teach you, right?" Miguel questioned with a kiss.
Needless to say, another round was not enough to keep you still.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed!!!
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#across the spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel o'hara#miguel x fem!reader
492 notes
·
View notes
Text
Temptation, My Old Friend (M)



Pairing; Priest!Jayce Talis x Fem!Reader Word Count; 4.0k Warnings; PWP!!!, Oral (fem receiving), no mention of she/her but the reader has female anatomy, Jayce is (kind of) unexperienced, fingering, cumming untouched, cursing, choking, straight to it no exposition, rosary play (?), im atheist and proud, talks of god, uhhhh, Jayce is pathetic (when is he not?), self indulgent word vomit i just wrote out of the blue
Summary; Father Jayce has gone his whole life following the words of God, preaching the bible, and worshiping at the alter. Yet, when temptation is knocking at his door, he cant help himself. Especially when its in the form of you.
A/N; uhh,,,, i'd like to thank my group of friends on discord, mainly Jude and mads, for filling my brain with filth. And byn, who stayed on ft with me while i screamed and cried over some of the parts of this fic. Actually, just sending all my love to the freaks on discord. This would've never been made without them.
THIS IS NOT EDITED!
DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!
Temptation; the desire to do something, especially something wrong or unwise
Jayce had that ingrained into his mind since he entered the congregation. It was something always tacked onto the walls, mocking him when his young mind dared to think of something perverse, lewd, unholy.
The church was his second home, the large space filled with the atmosphere of incense and large stained glass windows that reached the ceilings, vaulted to allow some hope that prayers would reach the desired ears. Jayce knew the ins and outs of his church, growing everlasting trust and friendship with the visitors who pray. He listens, he worships, and he believes. He studied his bible, he recited the precious text, and he instilled the belief in people that there is a God there to protect them. Yet, where was his God now?
Shaking hands grab onto the desk beside your hips, knuckles white as his body is forced to bend over your sitting form. His forehead rests on your lightly, breathing heavily as he watches you slowly unbutton your top, smooth skin slowly being exposed to his eyes. He was sweating, robes sticking to his back as he watched how your fingers wrapped around his rosary. The blue contrasted perfectly against your skin tone, the small beads seemed to glimmer. Each bead seemed to twinkle as your fingers moved, the chain wrapped perfectly around your fingers.
Legs slowly opening, your hands descend to the buckle of your pants, head tilting as your eyes gaze at him.
“You’re trembling, Jayce,” his name purred, whispering in the air like a cool summer breeze. It runs through him, setting him alight. Fingers gripping onto the wood, he swallows a whimper. His knees were shaking, the feeling of collapse imminent.
“I don't- you- hn-” he has to stop himself before he says something he regrets. Eyebrows furrowing, you push yourself higher with your toes to slide the fabric down your knees, lips grazing across his cheek when you reach down to push them from your feet. The fabric pools on the ground, and you lean back in just your underwear. Your shirt was opened fully, baring your chest to him.
With one hand, you raise the rosary to drag it across your chest, stopping when it reaches your collarbones. The small cross rests within your clavicle, the skin of your neck beating with your pulse. It was beautiful, something belonging to him, decorating your skin so nicely. His stomach tightens, raw heat coursing through his veins.
Heartbeat in his ears, he somehow manages to pull himself together to hear your voice, so inviting. Its liquid honey that wraps around his throat, makes it squeeze so tight he can't breathe.
“Aren’t you a man of worship?” Your head tilts, lips curling into a mischievous smile as his eyes break from the cross to meet your gaze.
“I am,” he repeats your name, letting it roll off of his tongue with a deep growl. How could you do this to him, taunt him with his own things- yet, he let you lift it from his neck. He let you push yourself onto his desk, and encouraged him with sparkling eyes to cage you in. He did it willingly too, stepping closer to your warm body to lean closer.
“I don't think you are,” it's teasing, how you smile and bat your eyelashes at him. The statement makes his stomach drop, and with a sudden fear, he bites the inside of his cheek, “why is that?”
He knows he shouldn’t indulge you, should tell you to leave so he could get ready for the next Mass, but you’re so beautiful. You look so soft, plump, and delectable under his trembling body.
You kiss your teeth, legs raising to rest lightly against his thighs, “you’ve never worshiped anything but that silly book.”
Pupils dilated, Jayce’s hips jerk forward at the way you look at him, a teasing smile and fire-lit eyes descending into a dark abyss. Akin to a demon, your eyebrows raise and your head tilts back just the slightest to expose more of your jugular. “Won’t you worship me?”
“I can’t, it's not right.” He sounds less convincing than he would've liked. With a pout, you hum. “Just a kiss, yeah? I’m sure God would understand- you’d be spreading his love, after all.”
Millions of thoughts race through his mind, but he can’t control any of them as his hazel eyes flicker to watch the way your pulse beats against your skin, thudding against the chain of his rosary.
God would understand, right? He was doing this for God, right?
His lips descend before he can truly stop himself, mind fuzzy as he places a heavy kiss on the cross, feeling it's cold metal as it presses into your hot skin. He can hear you sigh, hear the whimper that bubbles past his lips as his hips slide between your open legs. He was trembling as your chest arched into him, and when he pulled back he found himself gasping for breath.
You drop the cross lower, just between the valley of your breasts, and Jayce tilts his head, following like a lovesick puppy wanting a reward. He presses another kiss, and then he deviates, can’t stop himself from opening his mouth to lick against it. His beard scratches against your skin, and you can’t stop the whine that bubbles from your throat.
He can taste you, he thinks. The slight salt that lingered, his tongue running across his lip as he pulled away. His knees descend, making contact with the linoleum floor and his arms rest heavily against your open thighs. His hands grasp your naked hips, fingers digging into the thin fabric that restricts him from fully seeing you. He was so close to your panties that if he wanted to, he could lean forward and smell you, dig his nose into the fabric, and smell your delicious aroma that haunts him late at night. He wants to drag your panties off, taste you for himself, and have your essence coat his tongue for hours.
The cross drops to just under your belly button, soft tummy so inviting and he doesn’t hesitate this time. God would understand, wouldn’t he? He would see the torment in front of him, for he was only human, and forgive him for what he was going to do. He was forgiven before, and he would be again. So long as this was the only time, he could repent.
Was this going to be the only time? A small voice in Jayce’s mind repudiates, greed flowing thick in his gut at the thought. No, he did not want this to be the only time.
His lips press into your skin, metal digging harshly into his lips and he groans. His fingers dig so deeply into you, that you can feel the bite of his nails. He was watching you with desperation, begging you silently to continue. Eager to watch the descent of his rosary as he follows its path, lips glistening with spit as he licks away your taste.
“Jayce?”
He shakes his head, eyes locked onto the rosary, and his voice cracks through the air, deep and desperate, “Please, keep going-”
“What of your God?” You mock, legs trying to spread further and Jayce whimpers loudly, arms caging you in and with a smile, you sit up further, rosary still in hand as you grab onto his roman collar to drag his face closer. He wondered if you knew that it was attached to his shirt, wondered if you knew that with each move you make to tighten your grip it drags the entire collar of his robes closer.
Jayce looked ruined, cheeks red as tears filled his eyes. Once a bright hazel, they bordered black as he looked at you. Red lips glistening, you lean down to kiss his cheek, his beard tickling your lips. His once pushed-back hair was rustled, strands falling into his eyes, and his chest stilled with bated breath.
“I-” his chest collapses, eyebrows furrowing as he inches forwards on his knees.
“What would your God say, if he saw you on your knees for anyone but him?”
Anguish fills him, and he can feel the heat trail from his eyes. It's a sickening twist in his stomach that forces him to speak, possessed with desire and want.
“I don’t care,” he whimpers softly, “I want you, please, darling.”
Hand tightening on the Roman collar, you drag him up further, his breathing stuttering as the fabric around his throat constricts. It's sickening, how it makes his cock throb, how the threat of not being able to breathe makes his thighs shake. Heartbeat in his ears, he watches your eyes flicker across his face, slipping to watch the fabric winkle and threaten to break in your hand. With a smirk, you pull harder, and a choked whine fills the air. His feet scramble to push himself further upwards, trying to alleviate the pain, but it makes his stomach flutter. It makes his mind grow hazy with how you slowly twist your hand.
Eyes half-lidded, he cants his hips into the air, cock rubbing against the thick black robes. He can feel a burn echoing under his skin, his lungs burning- before, suddenly, you let go. His body falls back on its haunches. He gasps, cold air filling hot lungs and his fingers tingle with the sensation. His hands let go of you, falling to rest on his thighs, gripping tight onto his robes.
Never before had he been denied the basic need of oxygen, but when looking at the wild look of your eyes, he realizes he would let you deny him the basic need whenever you pleased. You’re leaning back on your free hand, smirking as the beads of his rosary are wrapped around the other, cross-dangling with mocking vengeance at him.
He swallows as much air as he can, pushing himself back up to watch as you drop the necklace back onto your skin, over the fabric of your underwear. The silver glint catches the light, blue beads gleaming as you slightly arch your back, the small charm resting against your clothed cunt.
Groaning, he tries to ignore the alarms blaring in his mind, muted by the blur that you’ve brought. You're smirking still, watching his mind try to fight with him. Fingers inching closer, he slowly slides them under the bands, tempting the resistance with gentle tugs. He knew the consequences of what would transpire if he continued, the greed and irresistible lust that would wrap his soul in chains. Yet, where was his God, if not on the desk in front of him?
Slowly, he leans forward, palms hot as his lips first caress the fabric. He can’t stop the shiver that runs down his spine, fueling the fire in his gut. You’re so warm, so inviting, your hips pushing against his frozen form and he moans at the wet patch that greets his lower lip. Pulling back slightly, he licks his lip, chills erupting from your taste. Cock throbbing, he grinds into the air, the ghost of his robes providing just a teasing amount of relief. He could feel the dampness that seeped from his underwear, no doubt pooling on his skin.
He forces himself to move his arms, dragging across your plump thighs to wrap around the bottoms, hooking your knees onto his elbows, and with a yank, he presses his lips against the rosary. His tongue meets metal, and he pushes it aside to lick across the fabric that covers you. Warm from your body heat, sweet from the nectar that soaks it, Jayce clenches his eyes shut and nuzzles deeper. His hips have a mind of their own, fueled by lust and desire as you moan so openly into the air. Unwarned and uncaring if there were any unwanted visitors. Jayce wondered if people would be arriving soon, but it was a fleeting thought, one that dissipated when he could feel you throb under his lips.
“Jayce- oh god-” you moan, and his body shudders. Maybe it's how you say his name, or how you speak the lord's name in vain, but his thighs jerk closed to alleviate some of the pressure that’s accumulating between them.
He moans against the fabric, trying to dig himself deeper. The robes around his shoulders protest at the strain caused by him pulling you closer, fabric tense and threatening to rip under the pressure of his arms. A carnal need inside him awakens, teeth inviting themselves into your skin as he bites down on you. Yelping, your knees bracket his head, thighs muffling his hearing before they relax.
“You’re so eager,” you laugh, sitting up further, it pulls his lips away, and he grunts in protest. A hand is weaved through his hair, and with a yank, you pull his head back. It exposes his neck, and he can’t stop the way his jaw drops. You’ve used your position against him, legs holding his arms hostage. He thinks he doesn’t care, but there’s a pop of thread from his back, and he winces at the strain in his neck. He arches his back to try and alleviate the burn, knees digging into the linoleum, but his robes make him slide.
Rosary still in hand, you drag the breads that are laced between your fingers across his lips, his tongue extending to meet them. They were warm, and Jayce’s stomach clenched.
It makes you smirk, and a dark gleam festers in your eyes. Fingers tight in his hair, you slowly unthread the rosary, letting it slide against his tongue and into his mouth. The chain falls to the back of his throat, and he represses the sudden urge to gag, not wanting to disappoint you.
Jayce whimpers, eyebrows furrowed, eyes pleading as you let the necklace sit in his mouth. The small portrait of Mary sits against the tip of his tongue, and the cross dangles off of his chin. Your thumb hooks into the side of his mouth, pressing against his teeth so he can’t move his jaw. Immediately, drool begins to slowly drip down the chain and off the cross, dripping onto his robes and the ground. It wets his beard, and his hands claw and grasp at any part of you he could reach.
“If only your God can see you now, Father.”
You smirk as you let go of his hair and mouth, letting him fall back to his place. Tears fall from his eyes, his gaze breaking from yours, but your hand catches his chin. Cooing, you raise until your gazes meet once more, and you shake your head, “Eyes on me, Jayce.”
He tries his best to nod, the cross swinging wildly.
Seconds seem like hours as you continue to watch him. His thighs clench, body squirming under your unrelenting gaze as you watch drop after drop of drool fall. Some land on your thighs, and with slow fingers, you scoop up each one and lick it away.
“Puh-” he garbles, voice messy and garbled. He doesn't move his hands, liking the weight of your thighs against him, but he does try and move closer. He tries to tilt his head so he can look at your panties again, look at the wet patch that slowly increases in size the longer you see him cry and whimper.
“Puh- puh,” you mock, pushing yourself up enough to let your free finger tap against the cross, “you have to speak clearly, Father.”
“Hnng-”
“Oh!” You gasp, hand leaving his face to grab onto the side of your panties. He sighs, watching as your fingers hook and begin to drag the fabric to the side, but you stop. You smile and lean back again, you watch him drool and cry and squirm.
“Is this what you want, Father?”
He nods, eyes pleading as he looks at you. His stomach tightens, full of cotton as you shrug your shoulders, “can’t do that with your mouth full, you know. Go on, puppy-”
The term doesn’t go over his head. His body has a visceral reaction to it, jerking hips and a loud drawn-out whimper pushes out of him. Shivering and sweating, Jayce humps blindly into the air, chasing after your voice.
“Oh, you liked that? Being called a puppy?”
Jayce whimpers again, and he waits for your eyes to flicker to the rosary, for you to nod, before he slowly tilts his head, letting it slide wet and glistening from his mouth. It plops onto the floor in its own puddle, and you tsk as he takes a long gulp of air.
“Come on, puppy-” his head snaps up, your head tilting to the side as your fingers slowly tread over the front of your panties, “come and get it.”
A flip is switched, God could damn him to hell. He could be thrown from the congregation altogether, he was going to taste you, and he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t.
Rosary forgotten on the floor, Jayce wraps one of his long arms around the top of your thigh, pushing your hand away to pull the fabric himself. A hand grabs the lining, and his teeth grab onto the fabric, and it's nasty how you moan when it tears. His hand grabs hold of your torn panties, and with a final breath, Jayce dives between your legs.
It's frantic, how he flattens his tongue and drags up through your folds. He coats himself with your taste and drinks it down like holy water. Your head drops back, and you sigh openly. Leaning back, you brace yourself on your hands, watching his ruffled head of hair move wildly to try and drink every last drop of you.
He finds your clit last, wrapping his lips around it in a soft kiss, before his teeth drag against it, your calves jolting in surprise. His hips are constantly moving, matching the way his tongue moves up and down the expanse of your cunt, through your labia, down to circle your tight hole, and then back up to your clit. Unexperienced, Jayce moves with the sound of you. He moves with your body. How you whimper lightly when his tongue presses against your entrance, how you tense when he suckles against your clit.
Your hips tilt down when his tongue explores further up, guiding him to your clit, and with quick strokes, he lets his drool mix with your slick. His nails bite into your skin, keeping you still enough so he can solely focus on you. Beard scratching roughly on your inner thighs, you smile at the burn. Heartbeat in your ears, you let your fingers thread through his hair, a warmth radiated from below your gut, but you knew that what he was doing wasn’t going to be enough.
“Your fingers-” you gasp, and Jayce listens obediently. The hand not occupied with holding your panties untangled from your leg, bending at the elbow to press his middle and ring finger against your tight hole. Thick fingers press inside slowly, twisting so the pads face the ceiling. He doesn't move them, instead focusing on how your clit pulsed under his tongue. How loud your voice was when he first entered you. He moans lightly, can't help himself from inching closer. His hips find an erratic rhythm, broken pleasure coursing through his veins as heat begins to pool in his lower abdomen. It crawls up his spine and settles deep in his bones as his hands tremble with their grip. You're canting your hips, chasing after a pleasure only he wants to bring you.
“Puppy,” you groan, “your fingers, move them.”
He whimpers, curling his fingers up and shuddering as he feels your back arch. The pleasure in your gut is dialed up to one hundred, flaring into an unquenchable thirst as Jayce eats you. His tongue circles around your clit, pressing messy, uncoordinated, kisses into your flesh. He’s devoted all of himself to your pleasure, praying to you that you’ll cum around him. That you’ll soak him with your juices.
Jayce tries his best, he really does. His moans vibrate against your clit, fills your bones and you find an inch of sympathy for him. Moving your hips, you aid him, pushing you further and further to your orgasm until you're shuddering and telling him to-
“Don’t fucking stop, Puppy- make me cum, come on- Yes, yes, yes,” your thighs tremble, tighten around his head, and your back arches. Your lungs burn for air, skin boiling as you feel that raw heat consuming you from within. Jayce moans, shivering as your tight walls pulse erratically around his fingers, cum pooling at his knuckles, slides down the back of his hand. It's sticky, wet, and warm. He’s high off of your taste; sweet, yet tart.
Hips stuttering, he can feel his stomach unbearably clench, thighs shaking as he cums. He earns for air but continues to lick at your cunt. He doesn’t want to leave you, yet. He doesn’t want to be parted from this unyielding pleasure you bring to him.
You’re shaking as both of your hands pool in his hair, pulling the strands in an attempt to detach his lips from your cunt. Back arched against the desk, your legs try to jerk closed, your orgasm rearing its head back to drag you down a painful road. It's a hot pain that dances through your bones, muscles tight as Jayce flattens his tongue against you once more, slowly licking away the cum that leaks from you.
Sweat beads on his brow, his jaw aches, and his legs are trembling. There’s a blissful pleasure that courses through him at the feeling of your writhing form beneath him. He’s barely pulling away long enough to breathe, too consumed with your taste to even notice the burn in his chest.
“Fuck, Jayce- stop-“ you weakly plead, hand leaving his hair to push against the desk, trying to pull yourself away from him.
Finally, after hearing the broken sob that leaves your lips, he pulls back with a gasp. Arms unthreading from your legs as he sits back on his haunches, face soaked with you, cheekbones stained with his tears, he looks at how your cunt is swollen, hole pulsing where his fingers once were.
It’s filthy, how his hand reaches to grasp at his cock, only to find soaked robes and still throbbing. There’s so much cum, leaking through the layers of fabric to soak his palm. He clenches his eyes shut to stop himself from leaning forward and tasting you once more.
When his head finally becomes less fuzzy, he opens his eyes and finds you already sitting up on the desk, watching him with half-lidded eyes and glistening lips. He can hear chatter from outside his closed door, and fear floods his body. First, he grabs his spit-coated rosary, and slides his thumb over the beads. Sighing, Jayce encases it in his fist and tries to push himself to stand, legs weak and knee buckling as he grabs onto the edge of the desk. He finds himself bracketed by your thighs once more, your face close to his.
Your hands come to hold his waist, sliding around and leaning around to kiss just below his ear. With the increasing volume of people outside, Jayce would have no time to change his clothes, no time to clean his cum from his skin- but there was enough for you to grab the loose end of his robe, bring it to his mouth and wipe away your cum from his beard and lips.
He doesn’t forget to lick them and taste the remainder of you that stains his skin. Sin coats his tongue, coats his fingers, and his clothes, but he would go out there in front of the whole church, and try to ignore the judgmental, knowing stares, of God's children.
Sliding your hands down his arms, you wiggle your fingers in his fist, loosening his grip on his rosary and grabbing it once more, using his own robes to briefly dry them off. You bring it to your lips, press a kiss to the cross, and then place the necklace back around his neck.
“Worship is starting, Father.”
Temptation is Jayce’s worst enemy, and it’s in the form of you.
#arcane#arcane x reader#smut#jayce talis#jayce talis x reader#jayce talis smut#arcane smut#priest jayce rahhh#hwawrites#jayce x reader#arcane imagine#jayce x you
239 notes
·
View notes
Text
BE PRETTY | OS
༘۠ park sunghoon x m!idol!reader
༘۠ fluff + idol life + implied nsfw
༘۠ a/n: watch this flop, it’s been years since i’ve written for kpop jaja….


sunghoon knows your eyes are for him and him only. he could be walking across the stage, 30 feet across from you to receive an award yet still feel (and know) where your eyes are at. he doesn’t have to spot you out to know you’re watching him.
you’re both not public, it’s still hard for both of you. the public is not going to be happy with it, you both know it. yet, he doesn’t think he’s hiding the relationship and neither are you. matter of fact, the more obvious you are, for some reason the public doesn’t even notice or think too deep about it.
“jay said i have to hurry up,” he whispers as he meets you inside the stall in the bathroom.
“i just wanted to congratulate you baby, nothing more,” you smile charmingly and kiss his nose.
he hums softly, smiling at you. “ah… good because the makeup artists already left and can’t retouch my makeup.”
“that’s what you’re worried about?” you chuckle, “i wouldn’t dare.”
he rolls his eyes while you take his hand in yours. your thumb grazes over his knuckles, making him go lax. award shows are always stressful, you have to look perfect, you can’t express much and there are so many rules that his head wants to explode.
“are you free to call tonight?” you ask, kissing his jaw softly.
you have a habit of kissing his face, butterfly kisses are your favorite thing to do to him. he loves them too, feeling you love him.
“yeah, it’ll be pretty late though, like one? i have to shower and you know the drive is a little long.”
“that’s okay, i’ll always wait for you,” you hum, placing a final kiss on his lips. “you should go back now, just call me, okay?”
he nods, accepting the hug you give him. you’re so warm, he really wishes he could be in your arms longer.
“see you later, beautiful,” you say, pushing him away playfully.
“yah…” he glares at you before walking out.
the rest of the award ceremony goes on. the ride to the dorms feels too long, as much as he wants to shower fast and call you he can’t because he wants to feel clean and fresh. so after doing his skin care and finally getting under the sheets, he calls you.
the others are still up, still getting into bed or doing whatever they want before sleeping.
“hey pretty,” you say, groggy, as you had fallen asleep minutes before he calls.
“where’s your pretty face,” he demands softly, looking at the black screen.
“ah, hold on,” you grunt, moving around before your face is illuminated by your night lamp. “better?” you ask as you settle back into a comfortable position.
“mhm,” he nods, watching you.
you stare back at him, smiling. “ah, let me tell you about what happened during the changing rooms,” you say before rambling on about your group’s ruckus.
he listens intently, feeling peaceful at the sound of your voice. he closes his eyes, imagining that your next to him in person, rambling. he misses the rumble in your chest as you laugh, the warmth of your body as he’s under the sheets.
“hey…” you call out eventually.
he opens his eyes, staring back at you again. “hm?”
“you sleepy?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i just like listening to you.”
“i know you love my voice but if you fall asleep on me i might cry.”
“what?” he laughs.
you grin at the sight of his expression.
“i love your voice so much it wakes me up.”
“hn?” you question, but at the sight of his teasing grin you catch on. “ah,, dangerous game there baby. my groups already asleep.”
“mine too…”
you stare at him before smirking. “sunghoon…” you say cautiously, eyeing him.
his eyes lit up, but he suppresses his smile. “yeah, yeah.”
and he shifts around, getting comfortable for what’s to come.
#enhypen x male reader#enhypen x top male reader#top male reader#kpop x top male reader#kpop x male reader#male reader#kpop x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen#park sunghoon x male reader#park sunghoon x reader#bottom park sunghoon#x male top reader#x male reader#enhypen fluff#kpop fluff#kpop oneshots#enhypen oneshots
371 notes
·
View notes
Text
Linchpin Part 2
"I am not familiar with this group. Batman? Superman," Wonder Woman asks the two with the most hidden knowledge of Man's world.
Hal Jordan just groans into his hands, "Not those buffoons. I used to hear jokes back when I was in the Air Force. They're almost as bad as the area 51 conspiracists. Always claiming our bases were haunted by high level ecto beings. Ghosts aren't even real!"
Batman is listening to something on his earpiece, "Ghosts are real, Lantern. One is a member of the JL Dark "
"When was anyone going to tell me?! Now I look stupid."
Red Robin mouths to batman, 'Now?'
Batman pointedly ignores that and continues, "That knowledge has always been available if you read the reports properly. Regardless, Oracle has provided me with some more information on this organization; a comparatively small G-List government group tasked with hunting down, capturing and experiment on beings of ectoplasmic origins or ghosts to civilians."
T̵̪͗h̵̬̊ē̴̤y̵̪̅ ̸͇͗h̵͙͂ẽ̸̘l̶̎͜d̸̗̃ ̵̼̆o̴̪͐ȕ̷̞r̸͚̚ ̷̗́c̸͚͐i̶̙̔ť̵̟y̷͔̚ ̷̧̒h̴͕͑o̵̼̊s̸̰̈t̷̙͝a̷̯̓ģ̶͊e̴̦͐,̴͔̋ ̸͉̒t̵̩͌ḩ̴̋r̵̜̐e̵̙͝a̷̡͋t̵̜͌e̷͉̕n̸̼̾ě̸̩d̴͎̕ ̸͖̏o̵̱͒ụ̴̑r̴͈̚ ̷̨͂p̴͓̎e̴͍͝o̸̼̍p̶͕̋l̴̛͔ȇ̵̟/
(They held our city hostage, threatened our people.)
Ť̵̹h̷̙̓e̴̯͗ ̵͎̑G̷̣̀r̷͜͠e̴̩̽ą̴̍ẗ̷̪́ ̵̜͌O̵͕̿n̸̲͒e̸̤͝ ̴͇̄t̴͈̋r̴̡̍i̶̩͊é̴͙d̷̞͋ ̶̬͌t̸̮̀ö̸̢́ ̸̯̎f̷͍̽r̸͚̿e̶̬̎e̶̯͠ ̶̡͛t̴͙͗h̴͖̓e̷̥͝i̸̞̎r̶̳͑ ̶̭͐c̷͔̀ì̵͎ẗ̶̙ỷ̴͚
(The Great One tried to free their city.)
B̵͔͆a̷͖̔b̵̧̑y̶͕͒p̴̪͝o̶̰͗p̵̪͛ ̴͒͜s̸̱̊a̴͇̐c̸͍͠r̴̩̃í̸͕ḟ̶̤ǐ̷̘c̴̛̱ȇ̷͙d̵̮͆ ̴͓́h̴̙̓i̵̲͌m̵̗̌s̶̥̓ë̶͜ḻ̴̑f̶̖͝ ̵̥̆j̸̫̆u̷̮̍s̷̖̀ṯ̷̀ ̵̨͑t̴͔͛o̵̦͘ ̴̗͊g̷̠̎e̷̱͗t̶̘́ ̵͔͠t̷͎͆h̸̬̀o̷̟͆s̷̤͝e̸̹̓ ̴̮̈́j̸̛̮ê̶͓r̸̤̈́k̷̮̄s̷͎̽ ̶̨̅o̵̖̊u̴̺͑t̶͍̃ ̶̭̂ö̵̮́f̶̖̕ ̸̺̌A̶̯̋m̸̯̿i̴̲͆ẗ̵̡́y̷͕̓.̸̛̭
(Babypop sacrificed himself just to get those jerks out of Amity.)
T̴̨̉h̸̻́e̶̲̊ỳ̸͕ ̵͚̊r̴̥̔ë̶͈́ṅ̸̫e̸͓͝g̷͔̎e̷̖̕d̴͚͌ ̵̹͒ó̶̤ṉ̵͒ ̷̹̚t̷͔͌h̵̿ͅè̷͜i̴̐͜r̷̪̄ ̵̩̒d̴̛̮ě̴̠a̴̞͛l̸̻̐ ̴̹̿t̴̙̓h̴̯́ó̴͍u̷̠̾g̷̟͝ẖ̵̏ ̸̭̚a̷̤͌n̵͖̎d̷̬̔ ̴̈́ͅA̵̜͗m̵̬̕ȋ̵̠ṯ̸̓y̷̟̓ ̵̺̄P̶̥̉ä̴̫́r̸̪̂k̵͈̑ ̵̥̈́î̸͇s̸͓͂ ̴̡͒n̷̩͛o̵̰͑ ̸̠̚m̵̨̀o̴̭̔r̶̥̔e̵̼̋.̷͙̆
(They regened on their deal though and Amity Park is no more.)
Red Robin takes this new information and inputs it into the Watchtower's computers and pulls up a satellite image of Amity Park, IL and just finds a blackened hole in the ground several miles wide.
Batman's suit groans as his fist clenches before turning away from the table, "Superman with me, Red Robin contact Cyborg. We're bringing this group to justice. No organization should have the ability to wipe an entire city off the face of the earth."
"Right behind you, Batman." Superman quickly takes off after him.
"What about the rest of us," Flash yells at him as he leaves.
"Everyone else should pool their resources together and try to come up with a way to slow down, stop or even reverse the Decay Field. Technology, magic, I don't care even ask your rogues if need be but this needs to be stopped."
______________________________________________
Base Gamma-5, IL
Superman and Batman stare down on an old seemingly unused military base. Superman's eyes shimmering as he looks over the area with his x-ray vision.
"So?"
"Skeleton crew of scientists, minimal guards but there is definitely activity underground."
"Any centralized location?"
"What, hoping for a big open room where all the bad guys can get together and start throwing hands?"
"..."
"Don't look at me like that, I blame Kon and Jon, I don't even know how that phrase became a common thing."
"Hn. I was asking for a central area to reduce any unnecessary structural damage our encounter is likely to cause."
Superman focuses as he resumes looking, freezing in place as a rictus of anger covered his face and he takes off. Explosions of steel and concrete echo through the forest as Superman flies through the base's defenses and high speed. Bruce gives a withering sigh as he fires off a grapple and follows behind Clark.
Shortly after Bruce finds Clark deep into the base, a large metal door ripped off its track and him threatening a scientist. "What is the meaning of this, who is this?!"
"What is this, you mean. It's ectoplasmic scum."
"You better pick your words carefully, that is a dead child in a TANK. I have VERY short patience for people like you."
Batman appears behind him, "I'd listen to him if I were you."
The scientist sneer at the sight of him, "Batman. I see you managed pull yourself out of that ecto-contaminated cesspool you call a city. You still reek of it."
Superman lifts him even higher and shakes him in one hand, "Don't look at him, looks at me and answer my question. WHO. IS. HE."
"P-Phantom. He was an ectoplasmic entity that breached the veil five years ago. He was the strongest power level in decades. The last time something like him was detected was in 1902 in North Carolina. Psychics all over three states surrounding it felt it appear."
"Who killed him?"
"Agent A, just over four years ago. He bagged him in a small town called Amity Park. There's records he had been there for over a year, check them."
"We can't, Amity Park has been a smoking crater for some time."
"What? Did the ghosts do it?"
"You did it, your organization did it," Superman shakes him hard to make his point.
"Superman."
Superman drops the scientist on his ass, "Fine, you deal with him. I'm likely to do something we'll both regret if he stays in my sight. I'm going to go get Phantom's body."
"Why is the Justice League even here?! You should be thanking us for purging this planet of that ectoscum!"
"That is a child."
"It's scum! It just looks like a child, there have been records putting its age at over 2 millennium in Rome where it burned-."
Batman sighs internally before giving a swift jab to one of the scientist's pressure points making him drop like a sack of potatoes. Clark mutters something as he removes the poor boy's body from the vat.
"I don't want to hear it, Kal."
"I didn't say anything, Batman."
"Hn," is all Batman says as he throws the scientist over his shoulder and plugs a USBat into a nearby server and has Oracle let off some of her rage st this organization.
______________________________________________
Flash is staring over batman's shoulder at the body on the gurney, "Is it just me or does he look familiar?"
The boys black and white hair now dry is fluffy over his face, scars litter his form in lightning strike patterns.
Batman gives him a look as he starts scanning the body.
"I mean not like I know the kid, just like I feel like I seen him around somewhere."
"I understand. I also have that feeling but it could simply be the radiation talking."
"Radiation" Flash screams before he zips across the room.
"Low levels, barely over a smoke detector's level."
"You think you're real funny don't you?"
He just raises and eyebrow, "do you have any information on our issue? Have your rogues anything to add?"
"Nah, even the ones from from the future don't know anything. Which is weird if you think about it; how can there be a future if the universe is eating itself?"
"Because time is most likely fluid right now, we're in the middle of the choices that make it set in stone and affect our future."
"Since when do you know about time travel?"
"I have some experience in it, unwanted experience but experience none the less."
"Right... so who is he?"
Batman pulls up a medical record on one of the doctors tablets that soon span into multitudes of windows, "Daniel Fenton. Son of Drs Fenton and Fenton. Saver of the critically endangered purple back gorrilas, Senior at Casper High, suspected meta but proved negative after a lab accident when he was 14. Godson and beneficiary of deceased billionaire Vladimir Masters. Lifetime ban on handling chemistry equipment..."
"Lab accidents? Lifetime ban in chemistry class? Sounds like my kind of kid."
There is a puff of thick sulfury smoke as a british voice speaks out, "Oi Batsy, I heard ya discovered the universe was ending, just came to see if- BLOODY FUCKING HELL. Why is there a dead kid on the table?!"
Batman counts to ten in his head and turns to Constantine, "What have we said about teleporting into the Watchtower?"
"Forget that! What have I said about keeping bloody dead kids out in the open?"
"You haven't."
"I shouldn't have had to, its implied!"
"Hn"
"Wait a second... this kid looks like... no couldn't be. That was ages ago."
"You too" Flash asks him as Constantine ponders on the boys face.
Constantine's face turns sharp, "what do you mean? You think you've met him as well?"
"Yeah but we just can't place it. Who does he look like to you?"
"Reminds me of a protector spirit I made a deal wit a couple decades or so ago. It was tasked to guard a rune for me. Indigenous populace referred to it as the Great One Who Breathes the Cold."
"Oh yeah? A spirit huh," Flash interjects, "What'd he ask for in return, Booberries?"
"An Astrolabe of all things, smartarse."
"He's not a spirit, we can see him so it's not like Boston and he has DNA. We were able to track his medical and public record. I've got what I need, I'm calling a meeting to collaborate ideas on how to fix this."
"Right, Bats, I'll just-"
"Mandatory meeting, Constantine."
"...Right."
__________________________________________
"What about those noxious pits one of your villains constantly uses?"
"We can't use the Lazarus Pits; they don't bring back the dead only the dying."
"Besides," Constantine interrupts, "Body doesn't have an ounce of soul tethered to it."
"What about time travel," Booster asks, "I can just pop back before these MIB wannabes kill the kid. Boom, Problem solved."
"We don't even know what changing that much will do."
"How about a localized time rewind," Raven asks, "If we just rewind him and not everything else."
"Nah, love. Decay field's already in play. The likelihood we rewind him and he doesn't know how to reverse it is to bloody high and we wasted the energy to only fail."
"Lantern, how much time do we have before the wave comes back?"
"The guardian's projected a time frame of two weeks before it returns to the earth."
"Not a lot of time but we've had shorter timeframes to save the universe."
"Hn" Batman turns to the Flash, "If need be we may need you to Flashpoint the event."
ALERT: Intruder in Medbay 1.
ALERT: Intruder in Medbay 1.
"I got it," Flash says before zipping off to the medbay, hoping to graze past the point of the Flashpoint.
"Isn't that the medbay with the body," Wonder Woman asks as Batman gets up to follow after the flash.
"Yes."
Everyone's comms went off with the Flash's voice, "You guys better get down here. I found our intruder but I can't touch him. He's just standing-"
"Flash," Superman puts a finger to his ear. "Flash do you copy?"
__________________________________________________________
Amity Park, IL 4 Years, 4 Months ago
"-Over the body of the kid... Wait where am I?" Flash frantically looking around at what was obviously not medical bay of the Watchtower and instead looks like a back alley of a moderate city frozen in time.
"Amity Park, Wallace," The old man says with a smile in his voice.
"That's not possible. Amity Park was obliterated off the face of the earth."
"Use your process of elimination, Wallace."
Thoughts zip through Wally's head as he comes to the obvious answer, "This is before the city was destroy. Do you know what you're doing?! Time travel causes nothing but problems, after the last flash point I swore I would never do it again!"
"I know more about time travel than you will know in multiple lifetimes. I am known as Clockwork here, I was once the master of time; it was my job to maintain the structure of the timelines even when you 'Flashpointed' a timeline to make sure the right outcome comes to be."
"Then why is the universe ending?!"
"I miscalculated the hatred some of my kind felt towards young Daniel. As such to betray our dimension to those that would sooner purge us. I cannot physically intervene in a past event but you can and for once I give you permission to fix the timeline and save your world. You have two weeks to save Danny Fenton."
"Wait, betrayed? I don't even know how they killed him how do I save him?!"
"You'll figure it out, you always do. By the way you may want to destroy your comm. Time in."
Flash's comm comes to life with his own voice, "I don't know who you think you are-." Flash rips his earpiece faster than could be seen and smashes it into the ground.
"Rightrightright... Right, two weeks to save some kid from bargain bin men in black... How hard can that be?" He spins in place, replacing his costume with his civilian cloths and stepping out of the alley to walk around the city.
___________________________________________________________
Thanks to @phantom-things and @a-lost-time-traveler for the Zalgo text translations. It didn't occur to me that people wouldn't be able to read it even at its lowest setting. I've learned and just parentheses'd the translations. I tried to make the two timeline but I just couldn't get the dead squared idea to flow properly so unfortunately I can only give this one. I'm gonna start working on the part three when I have time tomorrow. sorry if the quality's terrible.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#space ancient danny#the flash#wally west#giw fucked around and found out#ghost king danny
418 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hell yeah! Delico's Nursery is getting the love it deserves!
Could I request Dino falling for a female reader who's nicknamed the "Queen of Poison" thanks to her vast knowledge on posions and toxins?
Another day. Another murder.
The frequency in which murders kept happening in the city was overwhelming now. The choices in targets getting bolder and more obvious with each passing day. This time hitting another member of the noble class.
“There is much less blood than with the last murders. Perhaps this isn’t our evil?”
“No. Look at the flourish in which the bodies are displayed.” Dali countered Dino’s theory. “This is the same people, just their methods are evolving.”
“They used a coagulant.” [Y/N] announced as she examined the body, then stood to her full height again. “So they didn’t want this to be a bloody mess like the others. Something special about this one?”
“Hmmm….perhaps their blood was too valuable to spill. Or not worth it.”
Dali and the group continued to theorize, but it was clear that there were no other leads here, so they turned to continue their conversation elsewhere and let the police handle the cleanup.
As they all began to leave, there was a flutter of noise behind them, along with a startled sound from [Y/N]. When they turned around they saw one of the assailants holding her from behind in a vice grip. Teeth barred at her neck. “Stay back!”
“[Y/N]-chan!” Henrique called out. Echoing Dino’s sentiments of terror.
He hadn’t been paying attention. He hadn’t been protecting her. He thought someone capable and strong as [Y/N] would be fine if left alone, but it seemed he had let his guard down too far and she was literally a breathes touch away from becoming a thrall.
Was this how Dali felt when his wife was transformed before him? When the woman he loved became a bound slave to another before his eyes?
“Whatever you think this is going to accomplish, I assure you, that won’t be the case.” [Y/N] reasoned with the man over her shoulder. “I don’t know anything about TRUMP and I’m not valuable enough to bargain for.”
“Ha! I don’t think so. You may not know anything about TRUMP, but you’re sure valuable enough to get me out of here.” He snickered while looking at Dino and the others. “Your friends are too scared to even move with you as my shield.”
“Give Lady [Y/N] back and you can go free.” Gerhard instructed. “You have my word as head of the Fra family that we won’t pursue if you release her.”
“Your word don’t mean shit!” His grip tightened and [Y/N] grimaced. An expression Dino mimicked out of anger. “My only guarantee is this one. And I’m not letting her go until I’m free of here.”
“Would that be before the gate or after? I just want to know how far I have to walk back after this situation has ended.”
“Heh! You got a smart mouth on you. I like that.” The men all tense as his fangs poised at [Y/N]’s neck again. “Maybe I’ll keep you around longer after that.”
“Please don’t.” [Y/N] urged him. Though no panic or pleading in her voice just remarkably calm, Almost bored with this pantomime of danger. “I can assure you on this as well, it will not end the way you think. We’ll both just end up in pain and with sore heads.”
“Pain hn? Well, what’s life without a little pain.”
Dino felt his blood run cold as he saw the man bite [Y/N]’s neck. Intent on turning her into a thrall. Unbeckoned he called out, “[Y/N]!” before his cries were drowned out by the screams of the other man.
He screamed and cried as he violently pushed [Y/N] away to claw at his face with both hands. An odd sizzling sound filling the room along with his cries as the flesh around his mouth dissolved away. The skin bubbling and popping before he fell to his knees and eventually on the ground. His smooth, bleached skull where that vicious smile used to be.
“Does anyone have a towel?”
The men all come out of their stupor from witnessing such a horrific scene, and Gerhard gallantly offered his neckerchief substitute. “What the hells was that?”
“A combination of strychnine, arsenic, and a few other special ingredients I have swimming around in my blood. Most of it is a topical defense cream a created for such emergencies.” [Y/N] lifted the neckerchief to see if she was still bleeding and seemed pleased to find it had stopped. “I did warn him that we were both just going to end up with sore heads.”
“His face melted off!” Henrique reminded her.
“Yes, that was an unexpected reaction. Perhaps humanoid saliva compounds cause a more explosive reaction than original testing. I’ll have to do some more research.”
The Queen of Poisons. A name that seemed to strike fear an those that heard it, but none knew of the true power of the doctor turned bioweapons expert for Vlad. Dino honestly didn’t know her power, until this moment. “Are you truly alright? You don’t feel….”
“Enthralled?” She finished for him. “No. My thoughts feel quite my own. Typically, when the host dies, the link with the thrall is severed. He didn’t have time to give me any commands, so I guess we’ll never know. Although I suppose the theory is moot since he won’t be giving any orders, at all, ever.” The toe of her shoe poked at the whitened skull, which nodded in agreement of her hypothesis.
She could keep her theories. Dino was just glad that she was ok. “We should still get you to a doctor. Get you checked out.”
“I am a doctor.” [Y/N] insisted with a pout. But, she eventually saw reason and followed. Muttering about how doctors made the worst patients.
As the group filed out of the crime scene, leaving it to the police to section and clean up, Dino hung back to call out to Dali. “Dali,” the other man stopped and looked back towards him, “if I ever said anything unkind or cold to you after Frida’s death. I—“No need to apologize.”
Dali just offered Dino a smile, like he always did. “You don’t know what it’s like until you have lived it. You couldn’t possibly have known.” He placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s just be grateful that your story ended better than mine. Come, let’s get out of here.”
Dino nodded silently in agreement and followed after the rest to leave. He felt his heart still hammering in his chest, thinking on the what ifs. Dino wasn’t usually one to speculate but it seemed his mind was unwilling to let it go. What if his story had ended up like Dali’s without her ever knowing how he felt? If the roles had been reversed and he was unable to tell her while under another’s spell?
He would have to rectify this immediately, or at least very soon. Dino wasn’t usually one to speculate and he also wasn’t on to leave to chance. He would have to tell her. Perhaps tonight.
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#delico's nursery fanfiction#delico's nursery fanfic#delico's nursery x reader#delico's nursery imagine#delico's nursery scenario#delico nursery scenario#delico nursery imagine#scenarios#imagine#delico's nursery#delico nursery#dino classico#dino classico x reader#gerhard fra#dali delico#henrique lorca
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 3
<33

a/n: heyyyyyy I had so much fun writting these. I am literally shaking as we speak cuz i'm still kinda shy abt this even tho yall showed me sm love and gave so much positive feedback on the first 2 parts I was giggling, blushing, and twirling my invisible phone cord. Thank you all so much for everything and enjoy my shitty thoughts 🫶💞 + tagging a lovely person who gave me the idea of writting one of these @yinorathedragontamer
Summary/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Sam Winchester x gn!reader , Sam being the biggest boyfriend of all boyfriends (im quoting one of my moots), the first headcanon isn't sam x reader it's Jess x Sam (rip to the hottest couple) the headcanon came to me in a prophetic vision and i just had to leave it here, mention of Sam's childhood + I couldn't help myself but make a few headcanons about Dean too.
- I have a deep feeling (i'm an empath) that around college when he was with Jess and he wouldn't leave her side, Sam accidentally got adopted by her girl group of friends - hear me out - he would cling to Jess for his dear life shaking and not wanting to intrude or make him look nosy and Jess's girlfriends wouldn't bat an eye, welcoming Sam with open arms and treating him the same - they are the reason his guilty pleasure is gossiping. One of Jess's (girl)friends coming hurriedly towards the group with a shocked expression and a hand covering her mouth and Sam already knows the tea is scrumptious - he probably got called "girl" so many times - he didn't mind it btw, actually kinda liked it because that means they included him - spreading my "Sam Winchester enjoys the company of female friends more than male ones agenda" like wildfire ‼️ - "wyd when me and my gang pull up" and it's five y2k girls + a preppy blonde girl whose boyfriend is some 6'4 emo kid with a Green Day tee who follows her around with heart eyes
- "Dean, move your leg or I'm throwing your fucking mixtapes out of the window" you threaten annoyed at the audacity of the long ass older Winchester to just stretch out as if you're not both (tired af) in the back seat of baby, you try to find a comfortable position for what feels like the 50th time to stay for a few hours untill all of you make it in one piece to Washington (Dean might not since he is acting like that). "You touch my mixtapes and I might throw you out of the window, runt." Dean barks (lovingly), lifting his sunglasses on his head and pointing a defensive finger at you. You are too tired to think and to retort something snarky back but still settle on rolling your eyes and giving his foot a kick.
Sam is driving like a princess in the front, his legs are streched out with his back comfortably resting against his seat with an arm lazily holding the steering wheel as the wind coming from the rolled window brushes some of his hair on his forhead, all while looking effortlessly handsome. "Don't make me come back there" Sam laughs breaking the character he wanted to play along as (hint: dads on road trips). Sam's pants would catch on fire if he said he was annoyed at your childish bickering with his brother, he found it endearing. It just added to the list of things he liked about you. You gasp a little bit too dramatically and gesture towards Dean "He started it" you grumble. Dean gives you a kick of his own pulling his sunglasses back down and crossing his arms, atleast he retreats his legs giving you enough space to rest yours.
- uses every excuse to touch you (his hands are literally twitching in anticipation to hold yours, or hug you)
- Dean is a classic rock etillist (he learned that from J*hn) but his guilty pleasure is nu metal especially limp bizkit. - he only listens when Sam isn't around. - says he's getting himself a little treat (fancy headphones) with his hard-earned money (poker/credit card fraud) - J*hn introduced him to led zeppelin and Dean feels like he's dissapointing him by not being a carbon copy of him hence his secrecy - So the "guilty pleasure" has deeper roots
- Sam told you he doesn't remember owning a childhood plushie, you fix that
- you open the door and close it with your foot, hands clinging to the bag you're holding to your chest after almost stumbling over. Sam's expression changes into a smile upon your arrival, kinda like a golden reriever. He gets up from the reasearch papers scatterred around the table no longer the center of his attention to greet you.
"Hey" the word 'sweetheart' almost sneaks out of his mouth but he contained himself with grace, god forbid he makes you uncomfortable (he's alot like you y'know? ). "Hi" you reply breathlessly due to your almost stunt and the fact that Dean took Baby out so you had to walk back to the motel in the humid weather of Washington. You take off your shoes and set the bag on the table, Sam's nosy self is itching to see what's inside. Before you open anything you make sure to peel off the hoodie you have on and rest it on a chair. "I got something but i need you to close your eyes and lay out your hands please." You start already bitting back a smile with a tinge of nervousness at what his reaction could be.
Yes, you got Sam a plushie. You got matching ones, the one for Sam is a brown moose with dark brown glass eyes that kept reminding you of him. The one you got for yourself is a same-zise moose plushie in your favourite color. What's even more cuter is that both of the plushies came as a package and they can stick their hands together with the magic of little pieces of square shaped tape on each their hands (hooves?). Sam is scared and excited at the same time. He will thank you for whatever you got him, he raised himself to be gratefull, it's just that growing up he learned and was usually met with dissapointment. John not showing up for his soccer game and neither Dean because he is hunting with him? Yeah he knows. Not even a call from his dad on his 21st birthday? Yeah he expected that. But he knows you, and the amount of times you have dissapointed him. (hint: zero)
So he does as you told him to. He extends his hand and turns it over, his other arm resting by his side. He closes his eyes and does not open them once. Sam was that kinda kid at the playground, so fair and by the rules it's almost suspicious. He can hear the noise of the brown paper bag crinkling and somehow imagine the sight of you smilling brightly, a sight that almost bribes him to open his eyes and see for himself. He focuses on the sound untill he feels the soft velvet material of the plushie in his hands. He doesn't even open his eyes yet he just furrows his eyebrows in confusion as his fingers pet the fabric of the stuffed animal.
You stand there, the biggest most nervous smile planted on your face as you wait for his verdict. "Sam, you can open your eyes now." you speak loud enough for him to hear, and he does open them, they glisten wet under the crappy motel room light. He has this mix of sadness and joy on his face at the same time as he cranes his neck to look down at the stuffed animal in his hands, he can envelope it entirely if he tried. You wish you could read thoughts right now, to make Sam open up his brain to you and show you how he feels about this, whether the reaction is negative or positive, you just want (need) to hear him speak, fuck, he can even yell at you if that is what he chooses to do (he wouldn't in a million years). Regret hits you like a hurricane after a few seconds of silence, that's the last thing you wanted to do, make Sam remember what a shitty childhood he had with just a stuffed animal, a fucking toy. The thought that this could come off as a reminder for him that's like 'Hey buddy, your childhood is so fucked up I felt sorry for you, here' didn't even occur you. All you wanted to do is give him something normal, to make him feel normal, a feeling he has been chasing all of his life. You bought two matching moose plushies with the thought that you're gonna match with your bestfriend, you're going to share some normalacy with your bestfriend in your world, your monsters are real world.
You wanted to build a time machine and rescue little Sam and Dean from the fucking monster John Winchester was. Yes, John Winchester loved his boys, but neglect and love don't mix. Leaving a 10 year old to look out for a 6 year old isn't love, taking your children with you to fucking hunt and kill fairy tale monsters isn't love. "Sam?" You call out quietly, nervousness already visible in your body language. Sam shots his head up at the mention of his name and most importantly the tone of your voice. He gives you a weak tight lipped smile (as if the sight would spare you having to worry about him, as if you don't feel the need to bang your head against a wall whenever you see Sam in any kind of pain) and wipes a tear that runs down his cheek with the cuff of his hoodie. "Sam- I'm sorry- I thought-" You justify yourself and attempt at swallowing the lump formed in your throat, you rub your sweaty palms on your jeans and feel like the biggest asshole in the world. You awkwardly take a step closer untill you take in consideration the idea that getting closer might be the last thing he needs right now so you step right back. Sam's tears taste sweet, he can confirm it himself. The way you spent time and money going to provide him with something he was wrongfully stolen off of having when he was only a kid made him tear up in the spam of a few seconds. You asked, he answered, you felt sorry, he desperately wants you to comfort him, then you do something to make him feel appreciated/cherished. He glances at you and sees the state you're in. His legs instinctively take three long strides towards you and envelopes you in the most comforting embrace anyone has ever gave you. You don't need to be psychic or practice insane voodoo/hoodoo to know exactly how this made him feel, it's all in this hug. You hug him back and Sam starts rubbing circles with his index finger on your back, he is crying his eyes out and he's still comforting anyone but himself. You hear his sniffles as he agressively wipes his nose with his cuff. "Thank you" he croaks out, his tone hoarse and raspy. He rests his head on top of yours and you can feel him finally relax. You can also tell he has no intention of breaking the hug anytime soon but that is your last worry. You made Sam happy tonight and that's all it matters.
- you and Sam are the golden retriever + black cat duo the world needs. - grocery trips with him (he doesn't need anything, just wanted to go with you) that are fun and weirdly domestic. - it's all making jokes and finding eachother the snacks you usually eat untill someone bumps into him and HE apologizes. "Sorry" he says giving the dude that's shorter than him a tight lipped smile. The dude presses "Almost dropped my shit 'cause of you assh-" You cut him off by clearing your throat and making him turn around his face dropping as he notices your glare at him. "He said he was sorry." You chide (threaten) with a scarily blunt tone, you have no idea how someone can even dare to look the wrong way at Sam, he's too tall for his own good and he's built like a brick wall. "Whatever" the dude leaves scoffing , your expression softening as soon as your eyes settle on Sam. He has a stupid dorky look on his face and adoration in his eyes, his hands shoved in his jean pockets towering over you almost awkwardly. "Ugh. What is it today asshole day?" You joke breaking the silence, (yes, you're quoting kat stratford) Sam just laughs and nods, you could say it's Christmas and he would believe you. "Looks like it." He agrees, not even caring for that asshole that he could've handled himself just fine, he hunts monsters for a goddamn career. He just adores the way you jumped to take his side.
- expressing your wish to find or atleast thrift a brown carhartt jacket similar to Sam's, only for him to offer giving it to you whenever you wanna wear it.
- "S'okay you can wear it i don't mind, you just have to ask me before, yeah?" - he also can't stop blushing at the sight of you in his already baggy jacket appearing more larger on you.
- the jacket engulfs you in this sense of security and an addictive smell of Sam (his fav earthy cologne) - the way you're looking good, happy, and warm in his jacket makes Sam's heart skip a few beats. - Dean smirks and compliments you, having to take a double look to confirm it's infact Sammy's jacket on you "Looking good, Y/n" he smiles and sends Sam a wink you're to oblivious to notice but you do notice the tone he uses, replying back skeptically "Thanks?" but you shrug it off asking Sam if he wants to come with you to this fast food place to bring back dinner.
- When Dean's brain cells put 2 and 2 togheter and realizes you and Sam are absolutely pining for eachother he purposefully does alot of stuff so you're stuck spending time with Sam and vice versa. It's either an easy move to make you two go out/stay in or it's a geniusly absolutely malefically strategically thinked and mastered 50 step plan that has atleast 20 plan B's in case anything goes wrong but we all know he doesn't need them, the mission goes smoothly each time. if Winchesters are anything, it's stubborn, incredibly and stupidly stubborn so Dean is not giving up on making one of you confess to eachother and if you don't he might take matters in his own hands and scream it out loud enough for You and Sammy to hear.
- he is so eager, the first time you kissed him he automatically assumed he's your boyfriend. - "Is that any way to speak with your boyfriend?" With a jokingly hurt face and a dramatically placed hand on his chest when you're being too mean. - "As your boyfriend and your lore boy.." - "I'm Sam, their boyfriend.." when he's introducing himself to person he knows has certain intentions with you or somebody making you uncomfortable.
- you pulled a muscle in your shoulder while on a hunt and stubbornly denied anything ever hurted even when Sam asked. - you keep rolling your shoulder when Sam says "Looks like you pulled something alright. You probably shouldn't move too much, you'll just make it worse." You scoffed at that, no way Sam for real? I had no idea I had to do that, thank god a smart boy like yourself is right beside me. "Are you mansplaining to me how to let a pulled muscle heal?" You retort, mainly because of the pain partially cause mansplaining is unnecessary and ignorant. And when Sam thought he couldn't like you any more than he already does you proved him wrong. He only chuckled, amused by your snarky reply, even going as far as to apreciate your attitude. "I'm not mansplaining anything, I'm just stating facts. Even a five year old could tell you that overusing a muscle will make the pain worse." He teased back.
- He enjoys the intimacy between the two of you when there are jokes and certain things you and him can laugh about because you're both huge nerds.
- Bobby let's you borrow whatever books you want from his huge ass library (mans probably got illegal books there)
- Bobby and Dean give eachother knowing looks whenever you and Sam literally do anything togheter, you and him pretend not to notice, not even mentioning it.
- guys i wanna cuddle with Sam Winchester so bad it's not even funny anymore *sobbing while my eyeliner mixed with tears is running down my face*
- he's a big cuddlebug I am willing to bet all my life savings and my first born he is. - the way you feel so safe and comforted when his light pole build wraps two arms around you, holding you close, trying to get you impossibly closer. - his hugs are the same, tender yet firm reflecting on his gentle nature. - just spoons you when he finds you on the couch sleeping with a bunch of research papers scattered and dusty old books around you which he tosses aside, because he is too proud to ask for cuddles.
- you wake up in the middle of the night you have no idea what time is it, you have one missing sock, your throat is dry, and you feel an arm draped over your waist getting tighter around you the more you twist around. And that's when you hear it, it's right next to your ear, Sam's low sleepy hum as he stirrs behind you, nudging his face deeper into your neck. You have no choice but to lay there untill he wakes up 'cause there is no escaping.
a/n: again i'm posting this shaking, this took so long I was scared I wasn't gonna finish it. They are so long they might not classify as headcanons but i couldn't care less. The plushie one made me feel like hamilton while writting it lmaoo. Hope yall enjoyed!! 💞 feedback would be very much appreciated<33
#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#spn#jared padalecki#spnfandom#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#sam winchester x you#dean winchester#spn headcanons#Sam winchester is so boyfriend l ahshsgshhs#bobby singer#sam winchester fluff
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
4η BELH@RRA και Στρατηγικούς πυραύλους SCALP NAVAL ανακοίνωσε ο Δένδιας από το Λοριάν: Στην τελετή καθέλκυσης της φρεγάτας «ΝΕΑΡΧΟΣ» [video]
Την έναρξη διαπραγματεύσεων για την προμήθεια και τέταρτης φρεγάτας τύπου Belharra, καθώς και ευρύ πρόγραμμα εκσυγχρονισμού σειράς πλοίων του Πολεμικού Ναυτικού εξήγγειλε από τα ναυπηγεία του Naval Group στο Λοριάν της Γαλλίας, ο υπουργός Εθνικής Άμυνας Νικόλαος Δένδιας, κατά την τελετή καθέλκυσης της δεύτερης φρεγάτας αυτού του τύπου, της ΝΕΑΡΧΟΣ. Ήδη έχει καθελκυστεί η ΚΙΜΩΝ και ακολουθεί η…

View On WordPress
#BELH@RRA®#Exocet MM40 B3C#FDI HN#Έλληνες#Αιγαίο#Αντιαεροπορική Άμυνα#Γαλλία#Ερντογάν#Ελλάδα#Νίκος Δένδιας#Τουρκία#MEKO#NAVAL GROUP#SCALP-Naval#UAV
0 notes
Text
Forgotten Demon Twin 3/?
Prev | Next
Danny meets the Batfam. He almost gets what he wants
So, apparently, COVID and lack of sleep really get my creative juices going. Enjoy this next chapter.
Danny followed Damian with a distance between them. He had left the wakizashi behind but had hidden a few non-poisoned needles up his sleeve.
He studied his twin’s body language.
Damian seemed open, if a bit tense. He kept his posture non-threatening, probably to take Danny off-guard. Danny could hear the chatter in Damian’s comm. No doubt his father and other so-called siblings.
(Danny only had one sister, and she was asleep at home.)
They ended up in the park at three in the morning.
Danny wished he could put all this behind him and sleep. As always, though, his needs weren’t considered.
Danny could see the small group of people semi-hiding in the shadows with his enhanced senses. They all looked up when they heard Damian and Danny walk up to them. All of them got defensive when they saw Danny, though they tried to be subtle about it.
“Father, meet Danyal. Danyal, meet father and everyone else.”
“Boo, you suck! Introduce us, brat,” a man with white and black hair (who reeked of death, but who was he to judge) said.
“Seriously, you little demon, that’s your introduction,” a sleep-deprived teenager asked. (Honestly, sleep deprivation was such a mood.)
“Baby bat, how could you,” a blue-eyed young man asked. (Actually, a lot of the boys had blue eyes and black hair.)
The rest of the group started berating Damian for his introduction.
Danny was stunned. If anyone had even thought about doing that to Damian while in the League, they would’ve ended up with a sword through their chest. Here, these people were treating Damian like a snot-nosed younger brother…and he was letting them.
“Children,” the older man yelled out, “Enough!”
(An older man was haunting Bruce Wayne, but Danny ignored the man dressed as a butler. It wasn’t his business.)
Damian’s face got smug as everyone else quieted down. Some of them (the eldest among them) started pouting.
The older man, Bruce Wayne, walked up to Danny and held out his hand. Danny stared at it for a second before shaking it.
“It’s good to meet you, Danyal.”
“Danny, but you already knew that, didn’t you, Mr. Wayne?”
“Please, in that same vein, call me Bruce. And, yes, I have done a little bit of research before coming here.”
“Hn,” Danny hummed out.
“Great, another non-talkative one,” someone murmured.
Danny looked at the group and noticed that the sleep-deprived teenager suddenly seemed very alert with his calculating, narrowed eyes. Hmm, he would have to keep an eye on that one; he seemed like the most dangerous one. Not physically, but intelligent wise…well, Danny has learned to fear smart people.
He let go of Mr. Wayne—Bruce’s hand. (The older man following Bruce smiled gently at Danny.)
“So, to what do I owe this…unexpected pleasure,” Danny asked.
Everyone turned to look at Damian. The Heir seemed to be, was that embarrassment?
“Yeah, Demon Spawn, why don’t you tell Danny why we’re here?”
“Fuck off, Todd,” Damian hissed out.
Todd grinned. (The butler—he had to be a butler—frowned at Todd’s cussing.)
Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Children, please, not before introductions.”
“Yeah, B is right. Anyway, my name is Dick,” the eldest said. He got Danny’s hand and shook it.
“On purpose,” Danny asked.
Dick laughed good naturally.
“My parents weren’t from the US and didn’t know the word's second meaning. By the time I found out, I was attached to my nickname.”
The one who stunk of death spoke next.
“Name’s Jason. I’m the second,” he was interrupted by the petite Asian girl.
“Ahem.”
“I mean, I’m the third oldest.”
“Hello. Cassandra Cain. The second eldest. And you’re my new baby brother!”
Danny blinked, “Cassandra Cain? As in the ‘One Who is All’?”
The girl nodded while giving a thumbs-up. Danny gulped. He was so screwed.
“Tt, she’s not that impressive.”
Danny gave Damian a skeptical look for the first time in his life.
“Hi, I’m Duke Thomas. Why is your aura so weird?”
Danny blinked at the random question.
“Don’t know, dude, radioactive chemicals, maybe?”
Everyone stared at him with a look of horror.
“I’m joking.”
“Oh, hah,” Duke laughed, uncomfortable.
“Tim Drake,” sleep-deprived teenager said without adding anything else—honestly, mood.
“Of course, father already introduced himself, and you know who I am,” Damian said. He always had to have the last word, huh?
The ghost spoke last (not that anyone else would know.), “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. I know you can see me, Master Danny. It is a pleasure to meet you, even if it is after my death.”
Danny ignored the ghost.
“Great. Now, back to my original question: why are you guys here? If the League is gone, why bother with the unneeded spare?”
Everyone, minus the ghost, shifted uncomfortably. Even Damian. Danny narrowed his eyes; something big was going to happen.
“Danny,” Bruce started, “we found out about you recently—”
“Yeah, very recently,” Jason said.
“—and we wanted to meet you. We—I needed to make sure you were fine. I missed so much and could not protect you due to my lack of knowledge of your existence. I want to know if you need any help, and if you don’t, I’ll be here whenever you need it.”
Danny let Bruce’s words sink in. It didn’t take long for him to put the puzzle pieces together.
“Talia never mentioned me, did she?”
He turned to Damian, “Neither did you.”
Damian looked down at his feet, looking ashamed. Danny narrowed his eyes.
Too little, too late, brother.
Danny took a deep breath.
Here I go. It’s time to sell it.
“Look, I appreciate you checking on me, but I’m fine. I have a loving family and an awesome older sister. All of my friends are here. Amity Park is my home. I don’t want to leave. Please, I was never able to ask anything for myself. I'm asking now, begging, let me stay in Amity.”
“I have looked into the Fentons and have read some disturbing things,” Bruce said.
“What, the weapons? They can’t harm humans.”
They didn’t need to know Danny wasn’t fully human anymore.
“Not only that but a portal to the afterlife.”
“So my parents are a bit eccentric. If it makes you feel better, I can give you a full, unabridged copy of their work,” Danny lied. No way in the Infinite Realms Danny would give the freaking Batman more ammunition to take Danny away.
The ghost butler frowned at Danny’s lies and gave him a look of disappointment. Hah! The jokes on him that didn’t work on Danny.
“What about the reports of these so-called ghost attacks?”
Danny waved off the man’s concerns, “They rarely happen, and when they do, we have our own hero who takes care of it.”
Bruce gave him a calculating look. Cassandra was whispering in Tim’s ear. While she spoke, Tim started narrowing his eyes at Danny. Dammit, this was why he hated intelligent people. Danny was a decent liar, but he couldn’t come up with something if there were more than one detective.
Not to mention, he heard rumors about Cassandra’s abilities.
Time to bring out the sob story.
“Please, I don’t want to leave the only family I have ever known.”
Bruce narrowed his gaze. Bruce felt the boy was hiding something. He’d have to ask Cass what she saw.
“Maybe we should let him stay, B. We can always keep in touch, can’t we, little D?”
Danny nodded vigorously. Bruce almost gave in, but he had to ask.
“What about the report of the city being pulled into an alternate dimension? The Justice League hadn’t heard about this, and I know you know that I’m Batman. You could’ve reached out whenever to let us know.”
“I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me. The threat wasn’t that bad. There were just a few more ghosts than usual. Besides, other cities have seen stuff like this. We have two heroes, and the citizens got together to fight the threat.”
“So, there was a threat.”
“Listen, dude, I’m not here to assuage your guilt. I want to stay with my family. I deserve that much, at least, right?”
Danny refused to break eye contact first. He stared down the Batman; he knew the man wouldn’t kill his family, so he felt confident asking for what he wanted. After a few moments, Bruce sighed. Danny knew he had won.
“Young man, you should really tell your father the truth.”
Danny ignored Alfred. He wasn’t the boss of him.
“Okay, I’ll choose to believe you,” Bruce took a card out, “but if anything happens, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Danny had almost been home free. A few more minutes, hell, seconds, and he would’ve gotten away with his lies and well-crafted half-truths.
Of course, that’s when everything went to shit.
Danny’s ghost sense went off. Bruce’s gaze narrowed, and Tim asked, “What was that?”
Before he could come up with a lie, he heard him. Fucking Skulker.
“I’ll have your skin, whelp,” he shouted and fired.
Danny didn’t think. He transformed and put up a shield around the group.
It didn’t even take Danny 10 seconds. He took out his anger on the so-called hunter and sucked him up in the thermos. He was going to get a month of soup time, at least!
Danny turned toward the stunned group.
“Um, surprise?” He said while giving jazz hands.
Bruce’s eyes narrowed in anger, “Well, Phantom, is there anything you’d like to say?”
“This is why honesty is the best policy, young sir.”
“Um, you’re all dreaming?”
Bruce crossed his arms.
“Really, Danyal? You thought that would work?” Damian asked, angry.
Tim was looking at him with triumph in his gaze. Dick looked disappointed, and Jason looked entrance by Danny’s predicament. Cass was shaking her head, and Duke was, weirdly enough, blocking his eyes.
Fucking Skulker, man.
“I think it’s time you told us the truth.”
Make that two months of soup time.
Danny sighed and hovered in the air, crossing his legs. He might as well get comfortable.
Yay, Alfred has appeared. Danny was a bit rude, but considering what Damian did to him when they first met, I think Danny was being downright pleasant
Danny: Lying through his teeth.
Tim: This little bastard isn't telling us everything.
Danny: Gets caught in the lie.
Tim: Ha! I knew it. Once a demon always a demon
yeah, Tim is a bit prejudiced, not that we should completely blame him after what Damian did to him
519 notes
·
View notes