#fic prompt madness

[justaz]

merlin is over all the hiding and lying and he stares at his best friend while he eats breakfast and is just like “i want him to know me” so he lays his hand palm up on the table in his line of sight and just. makes a butterfly. it flutters around and arthur tracks its movements before looking over at merlin. he smiles and steals a sausage before leaving the room. arthur sits for a long while. merlin strides through the halls, strangely energetic and his mind just stops working. he doesn’t think or second guess himself or create lies and fabricate stories. he finds the knights and looks at lancelot and is just like “i revealed my magic to arthur” the room is quiet before lancelot goes “you also just revealed your magic to the rest of the knights” merlin doesn’t look at them but sighs out a “yeah” and leaves. he lets his magic loose and walks through the halls and out the doors of the castle to the training field, every step sprouts flowers and small animals form in his wake and skitter around. merlin takes a deep breath before laying down in the grass. he remains there until arthur physically hauls him back up on his feet

[tkpuke]

jayvik with 16/lee!vik?

Jayce + Viktor - 16. “Put the book down and pay attention to me!”

The sound of chalk harshly hitting against a blackboard kept repeating, Viktor drawing a equation that took half the space in a hurried manner as if the ideas flowing in his head would vanish any second before he could write the rest down. Viktor was deep in thought, having spent around three hours already in the lab alone. No distractions so far, which he was thankful for.

Until the door swung open.

Jayce comes in, immediately taking a seat while dramatically running his hands through his hair; an anxious habit. “I need to rant real quick.” He starts, but Viktor only glances once and keeps writing away. “It’s this upcoming speech,” he fetches something nearby to fiddle with. “I’m so nervous I can’t even think straight. I don’t even have a speech prepared!”

“Mmm.” Is all Viktor responds with, now taking a little step back to view his work so far. Something’s missing. He grabs a book that was on standby the entire time, flipping through the pages to see what went wrong with his equation.

“I don’t know how much Insight I should give the people about Hextech and its potential. Will it scare them? Will it bring hope?”

“uh huh.” Viktor says again, but he wasn’t truly listening. He has been too caught up on what he’s currently doing, it’s impossible for him to drop it all suddenly and put full attention on anything else. Don’t get him wrong, Viktor deeply appreciates that Jayce comes to him for advice or just to be a shoulder he can lean on, but right now wasn’t a good time. Jayce seems to be a little slow on picking that up, though.

The man sighs, resting his cheek on his palm. “I really wish you could be up there with me, Viktor. I know you already declined but it would’ve put me a lot at ease, y’know?” Silence was all he was met with. He could hear the wall clock ticking, pages being flipped and a occasional chalk meeting the blackboard, but no reply from Viktor. The only sound he was looking forward to hearing.

Jayce finally looks over, seeing Viktor’s nose buried deep in a book. This entire time was he just being ignored? Annoyance starts to fuel Jayce’s entire body, making him stand up to creep over to Viktor quietly. He doesn’t even hear him, of course, his mind somewhere else.

Viktor’s racing thoughts suddenly ripped away from him by a hand placing tiny squeezes on his side. The book was dropped, Viktor grabbing onto Jayce’s wrist tightly but not doing much to push it away.

“Put the book down and pay attention to me!” Jayce nearly pouts as a joke, still squeezing away on Viktor’s side while his other hand supports his back so he won’t fall from all the helpless squirming. “Wahait! Stohohop, I wahahas!” He shakes his head in the midst of all the squirming, loose hair strands starting to almost cover his eyes. Jayce stops abruptly but with the hand still there, almost like a warning.

“Then what was I talking about?” Jayce clearly sees Viktor trying to mentally recall, his silence speaking volumes. “uhm….err…” Viktor hesitantly looks up at him, who stared back unamused. Then, the tickling started back up again.

“It’s not looking good for you, Viktor. Maybe this will jog up your memory? Worth a shot, right?” The squeezes started to intentionally get lower, Jayce evilly seeking out for that bad spot: the hips.

And Viktor knows this. Hence why hitting weakly at Jayce’s chest, trying to signal a tap out. “noHO!—JAHAYCE!” He pretty much squeaks, cheeks slightly flushing from embarrassment. Viktor absolutely hates the sounds he makes whenever he gets tickled silly, but if you ask Jayce?

He adores them.

“That is my name.” Jayce answers innocently, honing in on just that spot. At this point, he doesn’t even care if Viktor had actually listened to him or not. At first, this was for the sole purpose of a bit of fun revenge. Although it always finishes out to be Jayce wanting to just hear his partner laugh like there’s no tomorrow, his reactions so priceless. How can someone not enjoy tickling a person that scrunches up their nose when you target there, or squeaks like a mouse when you tickle here?

It would’ve gone on for a few more minutes if Viktor didn’t bump against the blackboard in the midst of all his squirming, accidentally erasing some of the equation he had written. They both halt; Vitkor staring at the half erased problem in disbelief and Jayce staring because he’s about to get scolded by him any second, which is not a pretty sight.

But Viktor didn’t scold. He instead slowly turned, faces so close they can feel each other’s breath hit their skin. What Jayce failed to see from the corner of his eye was Viktor starting to flex his fingers.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Nobody bothered to explain the Lazarus Pit to Jason, so when he starts getting some very familiar bruises across his body, when he seems to break a certain couple ribs too easily, when he the Y-shaped scar on his chest appears to become inflamed, he surmises that whatever damage the magical Gatorade fixed, it’s being reversed.

The rest of the Batfam is getting more and more panicked trying to find out why Jason acts like he’s saying goodbye to them.

[kittyfrisk9]

Idea Dp x dc - Amnesia/2

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Note two: This takes place before Danny went into a coma and woke up with amnesia, I'm not sure if it counts as a flashback.

Dead On Main.

---

The fall was the least of his worries when silence spread across the area, making every second feel like an eternity. But now wasn't the time to panic, because experience had taught him this only symbolized danger.

He had to find Danny! When he tried to move, he let out a groan of pain, realizing his right arm was dislocated. Eh, what a problem.

"Nightwing, respond, are you okay?!"

His mind, finally lucid, could hear Barbara's concern. He smiled, stood up, and put his good hand on the earpiece; he needed to communicate that he was okay.

"I'm fine, Oracle. It was just a minor mishap. I need to find... Danny!" As he spoke, the panoramic view showed him the man's location, and it was clear he wasn't in good shape.

Not at all.

Nightwing rushed to the boy's side. Oracle, from the other end, was asking what was happening, but Dick didn't have time to respond. Especially when he saw, horrified, how blood was pouring from Danny's head. Oh no!

"Danny, Danny! Can you hear me?" He struggled not to shake the man, knowing that moving him in his condition would be fatal. "Oracle, I need you to call an ambulance. Danny is not okay."

"Understood, I'll send an ambulance." Barbara understood the gravity of the situation.

While waiting, Dick made sure to place the boy in a safe position, though it was somewhat difficult considering his injured arm. The essential thing here was to keep Danny's head, neck, and spine aligned.

In the process, he heard a moan from Danny.

"Danny! Can you hear me?" Dick asked, leaning close. Danny's breathing was dangerously slow. "Don't move, okay? I'm here with you."

Danny's eyes slowly opened, filled with confusion and pain. "It hurts..." Ignoring his order, the boy tried to move, but Nightwing stopped him.

"I know, buddy. But I need you to stay awake and calm, okay? Do you remember what day it is today?"

Danny blinked, trying to focus. "Wednesday... I think." No, today is not Wednesday. His hands were trembling, and his heart was beating in an almost painful way; the boy's disorientation scared him a lot.

He has to stay calm.

"Good, very good," Dick replied, keeping his tone firm but reassuring. "Just stay with me, help is on the way." As he spoke, he constantly looked around, hoping to see the ambulance lights.

He began to lose his composure when the light in Danny's eyes started to fade.

"Danny, please, hold on a little longer, you're going to be okay." He pleaded with a trembling voice, though he knew that statement was more a form of self-convincing to try and keep his sanity.

He can't lose his younger brother's boyfriend! Everyone knows how much good Danny has done for Jason, for the family, for everyone. If they lose him... he doesn't want to think about that.

"How do you know my name?" With the weakest sound Dick had ever heard, Danny asked.

There was silence. Dick didn't know what to answer. However, his evasion seemed to clarify something in Danny's mind; the gears started turning. "Dick?" What a bad time to discover his secret identity.

Once again, Nightwing said nothing, but Danny understood everything.

"Jason too?"

He nodded, and Danny's eyes widened. Despite his deplorable state, the boy began to smile. Dick was sure that if Danny had more strength, he would laugh. "I should have guessed."

Subsequently, Danny began to close his eyes and, before Dick could panic, the boy looked at him and said, "Relax, I won't die." Then, silence filled the area. Nevertheless, for some strange reason that Dick couldn't explain, he felt that Danny's declaration wasn't a lie.

He laughed; indeed, hope is the last thing to be lost. What a bittersweet feeling. Suddenly, the communications began to sound.

"We've captured the Joker," Red Robin reported. "He is currently being held by the police and will be sent to Arkham. B, something seems wrong with him, much more than usual." Tim shared his suspicions.

"Understood, Red Robin. Maintain vigilance and notify me if there are any changes. We'll investigate it in the cave, the others report," Batman ordered.

A bad feeling approached.

"The bombs are deactivated," Spoiler transmitted, joy evident in her voice.

In contrast, Dick didn't feel ready for what was to come next. Before disaster struck, Signal confirmed, "The hostages are safe."

He swallowed hard, aware that the question he feared most was coming. Guilt began to surface, questioning every decision he had made up to that moment. What could he have done differently?

"And Danny?" Asked Red Hood, his younger brother, the younger brother he had once again failed.

He turned to look at Danny: shallow breathing, pale, pulse worryingly slow. Unease lodged in his heart, wondering how he would tell his younger brother that his boyfriend was about to die. No! He shook his head. He has to remember Danny's promise; he's weak, but still alive.

"Oracle has already called an ambulance," he commented. He knows this won't ease Jason's anxiety, but at least it will help alleviate the tension, more or less. He's not sure. Hesitant, he continued adding, "help is on the way-" he was brutally interrupted by Jason's demands.

"How is Danny?!" This is no game. He understands that evading the issue will only make things worse, but he simply doesn't know how to tell his little brother the state of his boyfriend.

The memories of Jason being happy...

The silence seemed to drive the aforementioned crazy. "Nightwing!"

"He's not well!" Dick spat out, pressured to confess. "Danny, he lost consciousness a few moments ago, has a head wound, is bleeding. I'm sorry, Jason, I'm sorry."

Silence. Jason didn't respond. Nightwing bowed his head. Probably, it was only seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Suddenly, his brother asked, "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you? Where are you both? Where is Danny? I need to go to him, tell me." The urgency in his voice. Dick was sure his brother was clenching his fists, desperate to be by his boyfriend's side. How sweet, Dick wholeheartedly wishes Danny survives.

On his side, Jason lost patience at his older brother's continued silences. Ignoring Bruce's rule and throwing the code names to the wind, Jason exclaimed, "Damn it, Dick, talk!"

At that moment, Oracle responded. "Enough, Hood. I've sent you Nightwing's location, the ambulance will arrive in fifteen minutes. Don't worry, Danny will be fine."

Nightwing was surprised. Wait, fifteen minutes? Why is the ambulance taking so long? He called for help at least thirty minutes ago! Oh no, Dick looked at Danny and, consequently, at the wound on his head, the bleeding wound on his head. Oh no, no, no, no, no.

They're taking too long!

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[awhoreintheory]

In the spirit of DC transitioning into having Nightwing the Justice League, I need opinions on what would happen if Peter grew up and also became a member of the JL

Constantly compared to his dad? Or gain his on rep? Do they even know? Omg what if I made a series of this

"Spider-man in the Justice League"

I would NOT be offended if someone did this 👀

[suchawrathfullamb]

Jack Crawford is desperate to catch the ripper so he calls upon the devil. He doesn't believe in it until strange phenomena begins to happen around him. The Devil possesses his best chance to catch the Ripper: special agent Will Graham. Will is not aware of this possession and is trapped inside himself feeling gradually more unstable and out of control. The Devil is one astute creature though, and seduces Hannibal Lecter, the Cheseapeak Ripper himself, thus ruining Jack's plan altogether. When Jack finds out his agent is possessed, he performs an exorcism and frees Will. But Will finds himself confused...Is he in love with Hannibal, or was that the devil inside him? Without the malignant force, Will lacks the courage to express his true desires, leading to him attempt to get the devil back in him. Does it work? Does the devil get back inside Will Graham? Or is Will just projecting his own repressed feelings through the fantasy of being possessed?

Prompt?

[romanscool]

Maxiel as a reward pretty please?

#24: a kiss as a reward - maxiel

hi anon!! thanks so much for this ask (and sorry for the long time it has taken me to write it) I had a lot of fun with this one!!

hope this is what you had in mind <3

enjoy!

->

Max looks so fucking young like this. Standing on a higher step than two fucking world champions, cheeks smushed in a big, big smile that takes up his whole face, eats at it, and makes him glow.

Kimi and Seb looking at him like he’s an enigma, wonder in their eyes and reflecting Max’s shimmer on his skin, race suits full of lukewarm champagne, stale and so disgusting, but also so so good, and Daniel knows it. How fucking good it feels. He’s known it for two years and he relishes on how it looks on Max. Young, eighteen year old, Barcelona Formula One Grand Prix winner, Max.

Daniel doesn’t see it from below the podium, though. He’s a bit too sour for that right now. The sight of Max on the big TV sweetens him, but, he won’t really admit it. 

Daniel sees it from his driver room, slumped and half-lied down on a too-stiff sofa, the same kind Red Bull introduced to him when they did this first-race interview for Max. The sun from outside is shining directly into his eyes, bright and low because it’s almost evening, but Daniel can’t do so much as squinting. It’s like his eyes have to take all of this is fucking 4K. It hurts, burns. Lukewarm and stale. So, so good.

He watches as red spreads on Max’s face from ear to ear, makes the navy blue of his fireproofs pop out, and the dirty blondish short hair look even more sweaty. Champagne-y. He watches as Max takes the big trophy in his hands and holds it until his fingertips turn white, watches him tuck too-short hair behind his ear and replace the cap on his baby face. He watches as Max takes big and heavy steps and gets off the podium, watches him until he can’t anymore because the camera doesn’t show him. He watches on as if Max would suddenly get in frame again, but. He doesn’t.

Daniel’s retina have a sun print on them, all silhouette-shaped with wide pale hands in tight fists like it’s taking everything for him not to touch. 

He closes his eyes until all he can see is ocean-blue irises and a flush that doesn’t seem to ever disappear. Closes them so hard that splotches of color appear in his vision like teenage pimples on Max’s jaw. Until they twirl and make him nauseous with the motion, until he feels like he is falling low, low, lower than he’s ever fallen before, until-

« Daniel. » 

Max’s voice breaks through. Catches Daniel’s hand that he wasn’t reaching out, pumps oxygen that he never inhaled for, stops him from drowning when all he wanted to do was wave his hands in the deep end-sand. 

« Max. » Daniel can feel himself smiling. He forgets to be sour. He forgets the shit team strategy. He forgets to remember one day, Max will be better than him.

Daniel hears ruffles behind him, because he still has his back turned to Max, lying in the sofa with his legs half bent on himself. Sitting criss cross with his fingers intertwined above his head. He still has his eyes closed. So, he opens them. He’s met with wide red-brimmed eyes and a fucking smile that Daniel wishes he could carve in his heart.

« Daniel. » Max comes closer, impossibly closer, so close the front of his shin almost touches Daniel’s knee. Daniel can see the peach fuzz sitting so prettily on it and has to tear his eyes from it before he starts thinking crazy thoughts, « Daniel, did you see? » 

Sometimes, Daniel forgets Max gets like this. Sometimes, Daniel forgets Max is still a kid. Eighteen. A teenager. It’s still pretty anchored in his mind, and that’s mostly why he hasn’t allowed himself to think foresaid crazy thoughts, and it’s also hard to ignore when his dad comes to nearly every fucking race, and that barely six months ago, Max wasn’t even allowed to drive a car. A regular car, that is, because Max is a fucking menace that gets a super license to drive race cars at 300 kilometers per hour without being of age. Fuckin’ monster. 

But, it’s also easy to forget. When Max wins a fucking Grand Prix for example. When Max talks with the engineers like he fucking belongs, like he’s been doing this all his life, and Daniel guesses he has, in a way. 

Except right now, Max is asking Daniel if he’s seen him. Like a kid asking their dad if he’s seen him win a dumb challenge in school, a football match by a couple points. Like Daniel was not driving a car at the same time Max was winning the race.

Daniel shakes his head. « Yeah, Max, I did. » It’s not a lie, per se, because Daniel has seen the replay. Has seen Max cross the line and nearly cry all over himself. Daniel realizes he’s never seen Max cry. He’s pretty sure he’d be pretty anyway. 

Max watches him with stars in his eyes. Like it’s the most important thing anyone has ever told him and Daniel feels crazy with it, with Max’s, Barcelona Grand Prix winner Max’s, attention. With the wonder and amazement. Daniel suddenly feels very big. 

« I’m proud of you, Maxy. » He doesn’t know where the nickname comes from, worries for a second that maybe it’s fucking weird, because it would be in normal circumstances, if it was anyone but Max, but Max doesn’t seem to mind it. He’s got his face contorted in this half-downturned smile that Daniel finds so fucking sweet, glisten on his cheek from the mix of sweat and champagne, some among his dark eyelashes clump together. He kind of looks like a girl. 

And, God, Max just whimpers. Like. A throaty, high-pitched sound that Daniel doesn’t think he has ever heard in his life but god, he wants to hear it again. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t. 

Max doesn’t make that sound again. He flushes a deep dark red that reminds Daniel of the beetroots his grandpa used to grow in the back of his garden. « Really? » Max asks. It’s gentle. Too gentle. Max should be fully pumped with post-race adrenaline, and even more with post-first-race-win adrenaline, and he kind of looks like he is, softly panting, cap slightly tilted to the side and retinas so wide Daniel worries if Max isn’t on LSD or something. If maybe he isn’t on LSD himself because in a way, this doesn’t feel like something real. 

« Fuck, yeah, Max. » Daniel chuckles a little, and he sees Max’s shoulder just slump. One quick motion of down, down, down, until they’re limp on each side of his waist. Daniel can even see it, his waist, clearly, so clear, too clear, a little transparent and tight because Red Bull didn’t have the time to measure him for well-proportioned fireproofs. « You did great. » 

Max nips at his lips. His full, plump and pinkish lips. They look even more vibrant among the red of his cheeks. « You think? » Max asks again, and Daniel realizes he’s asking for validation. Daniel doesn’t really answer, just nods profusely like a mad man because he’s not sure what his mouth will want to say after this revelation. Max is so, so young. Too fucking young. Fuck.

Max nods too. His smile tones down a little, and he looks tired now. Post-first-race-win-adrenaline crash or something, Daniel guesses. It doesn’t get easier. 

He sits next to Daniel, their thighs brushing against each other, connected from shoulder to hips. Max rests his head on the back of the sofa and Daniel finds it very hard not to watch the whole motion, not to focus on the way his throat works. Up, and down. Up again before Max sighs.

The words blurts out of Daniel’s mouth before his brain can even form them, « You’re gonna get so many drinks free tonight, mate. » 

It seems to make Max chuckle though. The winkles that had started to form on his forehead ease a little. « Yeah? » 

« Yeah. » Daniel’s voice is a little breathy. He hopes Max won’t take it as more than post-race exhaustion. He tries not to say anything more, tries not to say Max deserves the fucking world, and would even if he hadn’t won the race today, but his tongue works faster than his mind. « You could get anything. » Daniel feels like a teenager again, prefrontal cortex not developed enough to make rational decisions. 

« Anything? » Max asks, his head turning to face Daniel. It feels like his blue eyes are glimmer-ish. Daniel nods. His hand finds the part of the sofa just above Max’s cap. Max chuckles. « You think I deserve a reward, Dan? » 

Daniel knows Max is being sarcastic. He knows it’s a joke. And it’s not like he isn’t aquatinted with this kind of mindless banter either, because it is usually the only thing that comes out of his mouth, but there’s this deep, deep thing in his chest that doesn’t want what Max said to be a joke. Something that wants to show him just how much Daniel thinks Max deserves. « Anything. » 

Then, Max swallows. He flushes even more than Daniel thought was possible. His chest aches. 

And out of nowhere, Max says, « I want to kiss you. » 

Or at least, that’s what Daniel thinks he hears. Because that can’t be right. That must be fucking unreal. « What? » 

« A kiss. » Max parrots. Says again. Echoes. Daniel has a hard time finding synonyms to keep himself from pushing his fingertips into Max’s shoulders and pull him in. « As a reward. »

Fuck. This is-, what the. God. Fuckin’-

Max kisses him. Doesn’t even ask if that’s okay with Daniel, even it’s fucking more than okay, like a kid. Max, eighteen, kissing Daniel. How the fuck did that happen? Daniel has no idea but he’s not going to complain.

Actually, he deepens the kiss. No tongue though, because he feels like that would be pushing it too far, even when it’s Max who asked to kiss him. Daniel deepens the kiss softly, just, presses his lips harder into Max’s until he thinks he can feel the freckle on his upper lips, presses a hand on the side of Max’s neck and another in his hair. Chucks the cap away and hears the dull thud of it clashing into the window. 

This feels more like a reward to Daniel for fucking waiting. For not doing anything fucking crazy. 

But, if anybody asks, it’s a reward for Max. For winning the Barcelona Grand Prix at the young age of eighteen years old and two hundred and twenty eight days old. A reward alongside the record. 

more of this on ao3!

don't hesitate to give me more kiss/non-kiss prompts!! love 'em all <3

[shegatsby]

I'm sorry but I have another idea for a story😅 please take your time to write it again and if you do it can I maybe be "♡🌸"-anon? I hope you had a really good time the last few days and weeks and that you're healthy! Same for anyone else reading this! Now onto the idea..

Hannibal and reader are already married and reader is a tattoo artist, one day when Hannibal comes home from work he sees reader sitting on the couch and sketching a tattoo, the tattoo is deer antlers(wink wink lol-) with vines around them, when he asks who the tattoo is for reader says that its for him and then they go on and on about why its fitting for Hannibal and he's just listening to her rambling before he stops them and asks if they could do a heart tattoo with the words Mischa, Readers name and the name of their child. (I know Mischa is from Hannibal Rising but I like to think that the movies are all connected to the show so.. yeah that would be amazing <3) Reader would say that they already thought of doing a design like that and they accidently slide the wrong way on the iPad and Hannibal sees a picture that says "Congratulions for a second child!" and idk, the rest is up to you!^^

Sorry that its so long again but its just super cite and yeah.. anyway, a good rest of the day to all of you! I hope all of you are healthy and stay/are safe! And I feel with everyone thats also a bit pissed at the situation with Tik Tok and UMG🥲

-♡🌸

A/N; Girll I haven't been writing Hannibal fics for a long time but here we go. Thank you for the request. xxx

You were preoccupied and didn't even heard the door. Soft yet determined steps approached you from the back and strong arms wrapped around you, you looked up to meet your husband's welcoming gaze, he he seemed tired because his work was consuming his hours more than usual. His hands were cold due to the fact that it was a harsh winter day in Baltimore, ''Hey.'' you said smiling, ''Hello dear.'' his voice softened. ''How long have you been sitting here and designing new drawings my love?''

You were self conscious about your designs before you could respond he added, ''Who is this for?''

His interest was piqued ''Do you like it?'' you asked testing the waters. Hannibal observed the design on the tablet, it was deer antlers with veins around them, ''Yes, I actually like it but you didn't answer my question dear.'' he replied with a questioning look in his maroon eyes, ''Its for you and I'm glad you liked it.''

He seemed confused, ''For me? Why do you think this dsign is suitable for me?'' he genuinely asked. You cleared your throat before speaking, ''In many cultures, the deer is a symbol of spiritual authority. During a deer's life the antlers fall off and grow again and the aniaml is also a symbol of regretion. In Christian imagination, the deer is a symbol of piety, devotion and of God taking care of his children: men.'' you explained, emphasising on the word ''children'' your eyes glowing with passion.

''And you my love,'' you held his hand, ''you are everything and more to us.'' you meant yourself and your daughter Mischa. As if the toddler had sensed that you were talking about her she started crying from her room. ''I'll get her.'' Hannibal said and kissed your temple gently. In moments he came back with Mischa in his arms, he was swaying her gently, ''Cna you also make something,'' he began and caught your attention, you admired the love he held in his eyes for you and your daughter and your hand went to your stomach without realizing, ''Mischa's name in a heart, maybe?'' he suggested, ''I already have.'' he was surprised that you already had thought about it, ''Can I see?''

You showed him the design you had made few weeks ago, ''And I also have other designs maybe you'll like them more.'' you said and moved to the gallery to show more and he made you pause, he held your hand, ''What is it?''

You got a picture of pregnancy test on your latest photos, 'you looked up to meet his gaze, hi clicked on the picture and saw that it was positive, ''Honey are you-'' he began but couldn't finish, ''Yes, yes I'm pregnant!'' you bolted to your feet and hugged your husband and daughter, Hannibal was holding Mischa with one hand and the other hand moved to your neck and kissed you passionately, you let him dominate the kiss. When you parted you were out of breath, ''I'm going to be a father.. again.'' his maroon eyes were glowing with love and warmth for you, Mischa and the new member of the Lecter family.

[b-bndi]

Will shocking Hannibal by showing up at his office unannounced, covered in sweat, apologizing for the intrusion and telling Hannibal that he doesn’t know how he got there.

Hannibal doesn’t care, he thinks Will’s most beautiful when his emotions are raw. Grabs Will by the back of the neck as he watches him nod feverishly when Hannibal asks if it was: “a bad dream..?”.

Hannibal smiling as he rubs his hands down the sides of Will’s head and neck, whispering that he was okay and that he’s there. Feeling ELATED when Will leans his head onto his shoulder as he makes his way through another mild seizure.

Hannibal trying not to sound happy as he talks to Will knowing he will remember his voice and nothing else. Always happy to know a plan is working.

“I’m here. See? No one else. Just me and you.” Grabbing Will’s face in one hand and using the other to cup the back of his neck again and acting as if he’s never even thought of doing such a thing when Will gains consciousness an hour later.

“All better now?” His voice hazy as he watches from his chair as Will’s eyes scanter around the room before leaning forward and brushing his hand against his neck in the pretense of checking his fever.

“You had an episode. Nothing too bad but…nothing is going to hurt you.” He leaned back to rest comfortably in his chair and watched as Will fought to either give in or ignore his blatant manipulation. He knows Will would question why he heard him but doesn’t remember ever leaving his bed. Knows that Will is apprehensive of the situation because he was just feeding his dogs. Know that Will is breaking and needs a constant thing for balance.

“Not with me here…”

Hannibal’s willing to become that constant.

[sidegly]

Does anybody take fic ideas because i have SUCH A GOOD SOLANGELO ONESHOT IDEA

Okay so like somehow Nico pissed off somebody from the aphrodite cabin and they cursed him with permanent make up for like a week and Nico hates it of course while Will is just freaking out because his boyfriend is wearing EYELINER AND LOOKS SO GOOD

[graciereadshannigram]

hiiiii, so as y'all may know, i'm doing @absurdthirst's Kinktober prompts, and i am taking requests for any of the days i haven't started yet!

the bolded, single option days are already either started or fully completed, but everything else is fair game. prompts that are italicized are ones that i have a slight preference for, but i'm not super committed to anything.

please, please, please help a girl out and hit me with requests! anon asks are open if you're shy :))

Handjobs

Voyeurism

Public Sex

Sensory Deprivation // Leather or Latex // Watersports

Rough Sex // Anal Beads // Bondage

A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex

Bruising or Bitemarks // Virgin // Ice Play

Flogging // Swallowing // Cock Warming

Praise Kink

Face Sitting // Lingerie // Overstimulation

Knife Play 

Sex Toys // Dirty Talk // Breath Play

Pregnancy // Aftercare // Roleplay

Gangbang // Collaring // Candle - Wax Play

Hair Pulling // Glory Hole // Teasing

Nipple Play // Cock Worship // Lactation 

Squirting // Dom - Sub // Period Sex

Massaging

Suspension // Fisting // Mirror Sex

Cuckolding

Gun Play // Monsterfucking // Shower - Bath Sex

Thigh Fucking

Breeding 

Somnophilia

Pussy Slapping // Non Con - Dub Con // Titty Fucking

Pegging // Edgeplay // Seduction 

Hate Fucking - Angry Sex

Fucking Machine // Phone Sex // Impact Play

Branding // Hunter - Prey // Uniforms

Sex Pollen 

Free For All 

[whatacunningprompt]

AU where Will actually did kill Abigail in season 1. Hannibal now has to deal with that, Will is able to see how forgiving H would be, and well, everything would've been different and interesting.

[dinosus]

"Metal-heart: Genesis" ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

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Meet "Riven," a product of a cybernetic experiment that blurred the line between humanity and machine. He wasn't born like this—he was rebuilt. Once a decorated soldier, Riven’s body was salvaged after a catastrophic battlefield incident, his remaining flesh fused with bleeding-edge tech. The world calls him an unstoppable weapon; to him, he's a man chasing the shreds of his own soul. Android x Scientist! Reader

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Riven wasn’t rebuilt just to survive. You had a singular mission in mind—a near-impossible goal that required a being more machine than man.. 🔧When you first rebuilt Riven, he was a shell—his voice was monotone, his eyes hollow. He followed your instructions like a machine, rarely speaking unless prompted. There were no pleasantries, no “thank yous,” only blunt, mechanical efficiency.

"Where do you need me? Give the order."

You weren’t sure if he resented you for saving him or if he was simply beyond caring.

🔧The first time you saw Riven react with emotion was over something small. Maybe you handed him a repaired piece of gear without saying anything, and he muttered under his breath:

"This fits better. Guess you’re learning." It was so unexpected, you almost dropped your tools. He had just teased you. Slowly but surely, his wit started creeping through the cracks.

🔧Riven watches you work constantly. At first, it’s unnerving—those cold, calculating eyes fixed on your every movement. But you realize it’s not mistrust; he’s studying you, learning how you work, because he doesn’t understand why you’d care so much about him.

"You don’t need to fix me perfectly every time, Doc. I’m built to break."

"I don’t leave work unfinished, Riven. Sit still."

🔧One night, while fine-tuning his neural systems, you stumbled on a corrupted memory file. For a split second, his guard dropped—you heard snippets of his past, his voice raw and human. He didn’t lash out or shut down; instead, he stared ahead and said quietly:

"....Don’t look at me like that, you can’t fix this part of me."

You didn’t push him, but that night, you left a blanket over his chair when you finished your work. He noticed.

🔧Riven isn’t good with words when it comes to care, but his actions speak volumes. If you’ve been up too long working, he’ll stand behind you and lean down to mutter:

"Go to sleep, Doc. This thing will still be here when you wake up." And if you protest, you’ll find your tools taken out of your hands as he shuts the lab lights off himself.

🔧Riven takes your safety personally. If you’re ever in danger—whether from mercenaries, drones, or even a collapsing building—his instinct is to shield you first and fight second. He does it silently, but there’s an edge of urgency in his voice:

"You don’t get to die, Doc. Not after all this."

🔧When he returns damaged—gashes through metal plating, his synthetic skin frayed—you scold him like a concerned parent.

"You think you’re invincible, don’t you? Sit down, Riven." He doesn’t argue. He just stares at you with that unreadable expression and lets you work, the tension in his shoulders easing as your hands mend him.

Sometimes he mutters under his breath when you’re too focused: "Your hands don’t shake anymore. You’ve gotten good at this."

🔧Riven can be sarcastic, sometimes even darkly humorous. He throws comments your way that only someone who trusts you would dare say.

"So what’s the verdict today, Doc? Am I still pretty, or did you make me uglier?"

"You’ve always been pretty, Riven. Just sit still before I lose my grip."

🔧You’ve learned to give it back to him. He actually smirks when you push back because it reminds him he’s not just a weapon to you.

"Riven, I swear if you tear that neural wire again—"

"Relax, Doc. I’ll give you something to fix tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to get bored."

🔧Some nights, when you’re both too exhausted to pretend otherwise, you sit in the dim light of the lab. Riven leans back against a wall or your workbench, his voice softer than usual.

"Do you ever wonder what’s next, after all this?"

"After defeating the [enemy]? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll open a coffee shop."

"…I don’t drink coffee, Doc."

"Then you’re not invited." Moments like these remind him he’s still allowed to dream, even if he doesn’t believe he’ll live long enough to see it.

🔧One day, you started playing music while working, and to your shock, Riven quietly remarked:

"I remember this song." He didn’t elaborate, but from then on, music became a constant in your lab. It’s your way of reminding him there’s still beauty in the world.

🔧If you’re ever injured, Riven loses his composure. He doesn’t rage or panic—he focuses, taking you somewhere safe and patching you up with an efficiency that mirrors your own care for him. He doesn’t yell, but his voice is strained.

"You’re the one who’s supposed to keep me in one piece, not the other way around." He's a worrywart.

🔧When faced with an impossible situation—when enemy’s forces close in and the odds are bleak—you and Riven have a way of grounding each other.

"You don’t have to stay with me for this, Riven."

"And leave you to screw it all up? Not happening, Doc. We’re finishing this together."

🔧Riven may be a weapon, but to you, he’s so much more. You remind him of his humanity, even when he feels like there’s nothing left. In return, he’s your shield—the one constant in your dangerous life.

He calls you “Doc” or “the genius.” On rare, quiet occasions, he says your name.

You see him not as a machine, but as a man trying to piece himself back together—much like you’ve rebuilt his body.

At the heart of it all, you’re each other’s anchor. Riven fights because you gave him purpose. You fight because he gave you someone worth believing in.

🔧Riven would never admit it out loud, but you are the first person who’s ever seen him as something other than a weapon. And for that, he’ll burn the entire world down if it means keeping you safe.

"You fixed me once, Doc. But you’re the only reason I haven’t fallen apart again." In this fallen world, you made him- your anchor.

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A/n : new prompt :D yay i tried :') part 2 ? also credits go to original artist who created that kick-ass design of Riven !

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ignore these yay :D

[sadlynotthevoid]

Instead of magic wrath issues or body dysphoria for the sudden growth/lack of scars, what about the lazarus pit gave Jason a magic parlant animal instead?

I mean, the ones that come with magical girl conditions included.

The animal either works as a wise little monk/emotional support buddy/right shoulder angel or the animal is so unhinged that Jason has to be the conscience of their friendship.

Also, imagine Talia, who just put his ex's son into her dad's magic healing bath, seeing the boy come out floating in a ball of light → do a sort of dance in the air → land in a pose, clothes and hair shiny and changed.

Talia:

Jason: There was a flying panda in the pool.

Talia: *slowly* There was a flying panda in the pool.

Jason: See? It sounds just as crazy when you say it.

[silicon-puppy-pudding]

Danny totally kills the Joker

I have a very specific Eldritch!Danny in my head that, even though I've tried drawing before, I can't really get out of my head if you get what I mean

And as a dead on main shipper and a lover of angst I have him do shit that causes problems

Like kill the Joker in a blind rage after an Arkham break out

So it's like this, after a breakout that obviously requires all hands on deck, everyone is eventually re-cuffed and put back in their cells (including the Joker).

Red Hood and Phantom are doing some clean up in the Narrows and it's hard on them. Seeing some kids whose parents died cuz of the clown nearly broke Hood.

Phantom, now well known as Hood's right hand, picks up some of the burden. Helping more then he normally does with some displaced kids and families cuz he can feel Hood breaking down.

It hurts..

After the night/day/whatever is over, they head back home to their appartment and Jason just breaks. Danny's been helping with the pit rage so without all the extra anger crowding him it just sort of crumbles into pain and hurt.

Danny can't stand it

He can't stand to see Jason like this

Jason was his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his partner in crime. He had always been there for Danny when he had panic attacks and couldn't breathe cuz he saw some guy walking down the street in a white suit. Was always telling him it was going to be okay. Had told him things were gonna be alright. And now the roles had switched. Danny comforted Jason for who knows how long. Held him tight till he calmed down and was able to fall asleep. Once Danny was sure Jason would be okay he slipped out of the appartment...

Phantom would not stand for this.

Phantom flew over to Arkham with the intent to "have a little chat" with the Joker. Just ruf him up a bit. Scare him shitless so he'd rethink ever braking out again.

He didn't mean to bash the guys skull in.

He didn't even realize he'd been beating a flattened pound of meat and skull till Batman showed up and pulled him from his mind.

He looked over to where he'd heard his name and saw Batman and Nightwing standing by the door of the cell. Both were wrapped in bandages, some obviously stained in blood from the damage they endured during the breakout.

Dick covered his mouth and stared in horror at the sight of Danny, who he'd been lovingly calling his future brother-in-law for the past 2 months, covered in the Jokers blood. He looked like a staticky, distorted shadow. Three(3) sets of arm all ending with white clawed hands; one pair around the Jokers barely intact neck, another clutching the inmate uniforms chest, the last frozen mid punch. Bruce, having just the slightest ecto-connection from the pit, fought off the screaming in his chest to run and leave the King be.

Bruce slowly approached Phantom. Phantom on the other hand, slowly realized what he'd just done and was starting to panic.

He'd just killed a man

Sure he fucking deserved it but he just....let himself go. Let himself indulge in his rage, be consumed by it. And now the Batman was here to stop him. Would he send him back to the Realms? Would he lock him up, away from anyone he could hurt? Away from Jason?

Phantom flinches when Bruce touches his shoulder. And continues to try and back away when Bruce calls for someone to get a hold of Jason on the coms. What's he doing? Isn't he going to be thrown into a cell? He's dangerous! He could do this again if he wasn't dealt with! Why is Bruce calling for Jason? Does he want to show him the monster he let into his life? Does he want Jason to be the one to do it?

Bruce is talking.

Not Batman, but Bruce, is saying something to him, his name.

Not Phantom

"Danny? Danny!?"

Phantom disappears and isn't seen for two(2) days

Nightwing is the one to find him. In some warehouse, slamming his head into a support beam, yelling at himself that he can't become Dan.

I don't know how to continue this. It was supposed to have a nice hurt/comfort ending but I'm not a fic writer and I don't know how to do that. So feel free to use this as a prompt or something 👻👉🏾👈🏾

Edit: figured I'd add one of the Danny doodles I did a while back cuz it fits. I already posted it a while ago but it feels appropriate here too.

[princess-of-morkva]

genuinely need a dark-ish!morgwen fic where morgana decides to trust gwen a little more and tries to win her over to her side, the topic of gwen's father's unjust death by magic laws is explored and gwen gets to actually see the process of morgana's change and go through it with her. where maybe not at first, but gradually gwen begins to feel torn between her loyalty to camelot and arthur and her compassion for morgana and all who are unjustly persecuted and her personal resentment for uther she tried her best to bury deep down. where morgana takes over the crown in s3 finale and gwen understands why. but she also sees how morgana's judgement is clouded by her anger and resentment for uther and how she begins to blame all of camelot for the faults of it's king and gwen tries to make her see sense. and maybe morgana handles it all a little bit better and the shooting at townspeople doesn't occur. and when morgana is gone gwen misses her more than she resents her, because for all of her faults, deep down, gwen understands. and she sees how morgana's actions steer from reason and feel more like a cornered animal lashing out than some evil masterplan. and when they meet again, a swords crossed, neither has it in them to truly land a strike. and gwen knows that morgana is injured, and her army scattered, and she probably laying somewhere bleeding all by herself and she knows she changed, and this is not the same morgana she knew, and still she can't simply let it go. she goes into the woods at night, and she finds morgana there, weak and unconscious and in the moment she doesn't seem like a dangerous sorceress but a girl who used to cringe in her sleep and wake at night crying from terror and whom gwen used to hold tightly for hours, sweet whispered words and kisses to her hair and in that instant gwen knows. that she is going to stay with her and care for her because nobody else will. because she needs morgana back, and she may not be the same as she knew, but deep down, it's her.