#maybe i should just stop worrying about tabs getting long

[roetrolls]

just spent over an hour adding trolls to my spreadsheet and the big wall of icons on my toyhouse profile page

every time i work on that thing i ask myself "why the fuck did i do this, why would i force myself to code every character onto two different select pages"

and then i finish and i scroll through and watch all my guys' faces go by and i go HEHE WHEEEEEEEE YAYYYYY

[peachesofteal]

I know Azriel has amassed a ton of wealth over centuries from doing the dirtiest work, and rarely spends it. He's never really had a need to. Of course, he buys gifts for his family, covers tabs at Rita's, buys himself things, essentials, etc but when it comes to spending for enjoyment or spending to indulge, it just doesn't happen.

He's not looking for reasons, either, until he literally stumbles into one.

You trip and fall into him in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Trip over something on the ground, get twisted up, and flail forward, right into his path. You're rose and pink pepper, floral, sharp, sweet in a way he cannot fathom, and he doesn't think before stopping your fall. He just reacts, grabbing you around the arms and pulling you upright, holding you steady as you recalibrate your balance, looking up into his face, eyes shining bright like the stars. They're brilliant, full of life, but lined with an undercurrent of stress, of worry, he does not understand.

You're fumbling over an apology as he studies you, scrutinizing every detail on your face, down to the chap of your lips.

He's never seen a High Fae look so... off before, and they're not known to be clumsy.

"Are you alright?" It's polite to inquire, he assures himself, it's the right thing to do.

"I'm fine," you smile but it doesn't touch your eyes, "thanks. Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going." He's unsure what to say next but before he can come up with something, you're giving him a quick thank you, and then disappearing into market.

He thinks about you that night. Wonders about you, as he stares at the bedroom ceiling. You obviously weren't well. Maybe he should have done more. It's his duty, isn't it? To Velaris? To care for it and its citizens, to protect them. Or at least, you. Do something to care for you, protect you.

He's not sure what to do, so he pushes the lingering questions from his mind.

And then the following week, he sees you at Rita's.

You're waiting tables, waltzing across the floor delivering drinks with a smile, the same one that slips away as soon as you're out of sight. Your shoulders slump as you stand at the corner of the bar, covering your mouth with your palm, yawning into it again and again.

Maybe he should do something, maybe you need a healer, maybe he could help-

No. He shouldn't. You probably wouldn't want him to, anyway. Right?

He shakes it off, tries to shake you off but can't stop himself from watching every step you take, trying to diagnose the problem.

It takes too long for it to click.

You're not sick, or clumsy.

You're exhausted, and it makes him irrationally angry, fills him with a need to drag you away from Rita's and tuck you up into a house somewhere, a place you'll never have to lift a finger again if you so choose. A place where you could be taken care of-

maybe even by him.

It takes him very little time to find the ramshackle duplex you live in on the outskirts of town, the roof too sloped, the wooden steps too rotted, the siding too loose.

It makes him uneasy, makes his skin crawl. Why are you here, in a place like this? Who has allowed this?

Why does a place like this even exist when Velaris has such wealth?

He begins to play a game, and at first, he tells himself it's to make himself feel better, that he's doing it for selfish reasons.

It's winter, and you don't have gloves, so he buys a pair and the shadows deposit them on your front step, and it makes the sick feeling in his stomach go away. For a few days.

When it returns, he buys you a hat, and this time, he delivers it himself, eager to see your reaction.

He doesn't expect to see the gloves still sitting on the porch, and he frowns. Did you not see them? Did you not like them? He leaves the hat at their side and lurks on the roof of the house across from yours, hiding in shadow, in wait.

The sun is still rising when you leave for your first job of the day, and you stop short at the sight of the hat. He perks up, expecting to see you relax with relief, or happiness, but is left confused when you hold the hat in your hands for a moment, reverently tracing the stitching, before dropping it back next to the gloves.

Why? You need these things. They're being given anonymously, alleviating some of awkwardness of accepting gifts, and he had hoped it would spare you from feelings of obligation or embarrassment. Perhaps you are too proud, he wonders, but shadows echo a different sentiment, one of distrust, of wariness.

The gifts scare you.

The guilt churns the bile in his stomach, and he flexes his fingers into fists before flying away, cursing himself the whole way home.

Idiot.

You're very surprised when he approaches you on your walk from the Palace to Rita's, so much so that you jerk to a dead stop, staring at him with your mouth dropped open as he tries to explain he has something to give you.

Yes, he knows you don't know him. Yes, he's aware how strange this is.

Yes, you will be taking this scarf whether you like it or not.

"I'm sorry?"

"This is for you." He extends the scarf towards you, holding his breath. Your eyes narrow.

"Have you been leaving things on my porch?"

"Yes." There's no point in lying. He's standing here trying to gift you a scarf, for Cauldron's sake.

"Why?" Your voice is tight, anxious, and he wishes there was a way he could reassure you without frightening you further.

"You needed them." It comes off as arrogant, but he doesn't care. He's getting to the point where he's past caring, where he's past watching you freeze and work yourself to the bone. His jaw is clenched so tight the muscles are straining, and it takes effort to steady his voice. "You're freezing."

"I-"

"I want you to have this." Just take it. The shadows skitter around him, trawling across the brick to where you stand, and you glance at them briefly, surprisingly unafraid, before looking back at him. He expects a fight, some kind of resistance, but it's all been bled dry. The only thing he sees is defeat, and it stings. You're suffering, you're suffering and he's got everything he could ever want, material wise, and then some. "Please," he murmurs, stepping forward, and you shake your head.

"I shouldn't."

"It's just a gift, I don't expect anything in return."

"You say that now." Your voice trembles. Anger cracks like lightning through his veins. Is this what you fear? A transaction? An exchange for help? There are only so many things one could want in a situation like this, and all of the them fill him with rage.

"I promise you," his voice is steel, firm and unrelenting, "I want nothing in return."

"You promise." It's not a question, and you won't meet his gaze, but he pushes on.

"I do." You reach for it hesitantly and wrap it around your neck, tucking your chin into the softly spun wool, cheeks lifting in a very small, shy smile. Good girl.

He chose perfectly. It complements your skin, your eyes, illuminates your already striking beauty.

"I... thank you. This is really nice. It's lovely." The shadows hum, and he secretly preens, the warmth in his chest spreading as you tell him your name.

"I'm Azriel," he says in return, and you nod.

"I know." You sigh, and look past him, down the street to where he knows your work awaits. "I have to go."

Or he could take you. It's tempting, so, so tempting. It's wicked, and rotten, but satisfying at the same time, and it soothes the reckless pieces of him calling out to you.

No. He shouldn't. He settles on a different course instead.

"I'll see you soon." Your brow furrows.

"You will?" He nods, spreading his wings, preparing to launch into the sky, pleased by how you marvel at them.

"And you'll wear both the gloves and hat when you're outside from now on." Your lips part with surprise. "Yes?" It takes a beat, and then two-

"Yes."

[zhongfile]

something’s missing. — Lee Donghyuck

PAIRING. haechan x fem reader

GENRE. smut

WARNINGS. blackmailing, dubcon themes, unprotected sex, crying, slapping, oral, degradation, forced breeding, stalking of socials, non-consented recording. big d!ck haechan agenda.

WC. 2.1K

A/N: miss the dreamies so bad it got me writing again😪 please enjoy this smut that i’ve been working on for a while that only @2cupids has known about LOL. feedback is so highly appreciated it’s been so long!! proof read but not rly oops. hope you enjoy:’)

Haechan scoffed when he viewed your story. Jealousy washing over his body when he saw you kissing another man on the cheek. the caption reading happy one month with a pink heart emoji. “Unbelievable” he mumbled to himself, tossing his phone. Surely you were only posting that to make him upset right?

You and haechan parted ways a long time ago. Two years ago to be exact haechan still believing you loved him and only moved on to get a reaction out of him. Which.. wasn’t true. You stopped worrying about haechan the day you two broke up. Threatening to get a restraining order made him back off a little, giving you the chance to call the quits. Haechan tried to rationalize with you saying he couldn’t live without you and wanted to remain good friends even if you two weren’t together anymore. You were easy to manipulate though that quickly came to an end.

Your ‘friendship’ lasted maybe a good week before you stopped returning his phone calls and blocked him on everything. Now here you are two years later in a happy relationship, new friends, and even a better job. Haechan hasn’t even crossed your mind since you’ve been with Jake, finally feeling safe in a relationship for once.

Haechan on the other hand still kept tabs on you. Though you blocked him and all his friends he still had an old burner account he used to stalk your socials. He was happy to see you happy but hated that it wasn’t him being there for you and all your new accomplishments. He hated seeing you under another man. He hated that you were purposely posting all this to make him jealous. To make him react this way.

He shakes his head, smacking his dry lips together, how could you just move on that easily?

Haechan had to think of a way to get you back into his life again.

You laid your head on your boyfriend's chest as you slowly began to drift off to sleep. Your phone buzzed ignoring the first two times it went off getting up to check it the third time it buzzed. The number that texted you was a number you didn't save or recognize, figuring someone just had the wrong number. Your eyes went wide at the three video attachments of you fucking haechan and giving him head. ‘Why does he still have these?’ You asked yourself. Your heart sank at the following messages. He found you yet again.

Unknown: Remember these?

Unknown: Oh how I miss you and your tongue. I still watch these videos to get myself off

Unknown: come on y/n don’t ignore me :((

Unknown: maybe i should send these videos to jake huh? show him how much fun we used to have.

You froze at the text.. How did he know who Jake was?

You: please delete those videos haechan. seriously please

Unknown: look who finally decided to reply!

Unknown: come over and maybe i’ll consider deleting

You: please don’t do this again. just delete them and we both can go our separate ways donghyuck.

Unknown: either you come over or i send it to him. your call

Haechan smiled to himself when you texted you were on the way. He was going to make you his again.

Haechan decided to tidy up the place before your arrival, spraying some cheap air freshener in his living room to make his apartment seem more comfortable. He wanted seeing you again to be memorable, setting up a camera in the far left corner in his living room hiding it good enough so you wouldn’t see. His hands felt sweaty and his heart rate was increasing, butterflies filling his tummy. He couldn’t believe he was actually about to see you, a grin slowly creeping on his face.

You had a horrible feeling about how this whole thing was going to go. Haechan never takes no for an answer and you had a gut feeling it was going to take everything in you to get him to delete those old videos. The pit of your stomach began to drop when you arrived at his apartment. Horrible flashbacks started playing in the back of your head when you parked your car. let’s just get this over with you thought to yourself as you approached Haechan’s door.

It’s like he could feel your presence at the door opening it before you even knocked. He smiled, “hi”

“hey..” you mumbled under your breath barely looking at him.

Haechan opened the door wider welcoming you in. Everything was still the same.. the exact same. Same old raggedy furniture that he should’ve thrown away years ago. Even your old pictures of the two of you were hanging on the wall. All the memories between you two begin to flood your mind and you need to get haechan to delete these videos so you could leave and never think about him again.

“Come sit,” Haechan patted his thigh, that shit eating grin resting on his lips. You didn’t want to upset or trigger anything obeying everything he asked you to do. You sat on his knee, hands resting uncomfortably in your lap. “So tell me what’s been new? How are things with your little boyfriend?” he asked, moving your hair out of your face to see you better, making you close your eyes at his touch. “Things are okay...”

“Just okay?” he asked emphasizing on ‘just’

“things are good..” you corrected yourself trying to shift off his lap a bit haechan pulling you closer to him squeezing your thigh. “Why are you trying to run away from me?” He asked with a slight pout to his lips

“Haechan.. please” your voice was barely above a whisper refusing to make eye contact with him. “I just want you to delete the videos so we can go our separate ways again”

“Come on, you don’t miss me?” you didn’t reply quick enough for his liking making haechan pull you all the way onto his lap a gasp leaving your lips as you now straddled him.

“Haechan” you called softly “ohh now you can hear me” he let out a teasing laugh rubbing his hands up and down your thigh.

“please..” you begged once again. Haechan rubbed your cheek so softly and sweet like he actually cared about anything you were asking him for. He reached in the front of his pocket pulling his phone out unlocking it and showing you his messages. The video of you two already loaded up to be sent to jake. All it took was one press.

“Haechan please stop” you cry, “i’ll do anything!” you blurted out reaching for the phone.

Haechan locked it and looked down at you. And there it was. He knew you were gonna eventually give in.

He rests his arms on the couch looking at your head tilted to the side. “Get on your knees”

You hesitated getting off his lap kneeling between his spread legs. Your hands were shaking unbuckling his jeans only pulling his pants down far enough to free his cock. Haechan hisses at the cool air hitting his tip dripping in pre-cum. your lips glide over his length trying your best to fit him in your mouth. bobbing your head back and forth gently Haechan getting impatient with this little act you were putting up. You’ve sucked his dick plenty of times. Why are you acting like you don’t know what you are doing?

He grabbed a fistful of your hair making you yelp “Are you trying to piss me off huh?” he slapped you across the face making you close your eyes from the sting.

You shook your head no. “I can’t hear you” he slaps you again, a tear falling down your cheek. “no..” you sniffled.

“Then do it right” he pushed your head back down onto his cock doing the work for you.

“fuck” he mumbled under his breath pushing your face all the way down on his cock almost cumming on the spot watching you gag. You pinched at his thigh trying to get him to let go so you could breathe but Haechan didn’t care. He just wanted to get his dick wet by his favorite girl.

He finally pulled you up smirking at the way you gasped for air. He let out a moan at the sight of you. Drool and spit dripping down your chin and chest. Eyes filled with tears. He loved seeing you all messy like this. He swore his cock got harder from you crying. For him it was his favorite site. He grabbed you by the jaw guiding you back to his lap.

“Sit on it” you sniffled again wanting to tell him no but couldn’t risk making him more upset. Taking a step back to take your shorts and panties off. You align his cock up with your entrance gripping onto his shoulders to help steady yourself. Haechan surprisingly lets you take your time easing down on his cock the stretch feeling unbelievable.

Haechan let out a sigh when you finally sat all the way. Hands gripping your hips “still so fucking tight— shit”

“y/n— you gotta move or fuck— i’ll fuck up into you” you let your hands rest on his shoulder slowly beginning to bouce up and down.

“it hurts.. you’re too big” you mumbled in between sobs.

“Jake doesn’t fill you up this well does he baby?” you close your eyes at the mention of Jake. Feeling completely horrible for even doing this.

“You missed me didn’t you?” Haechan asked, thrusting up into you watching the way you bite your lip to hold back your moan.

your legs were growing weak and you felt like you could cum in any second. You wanted to keep your eyes closed but couldn’t help but look at the way haechan was so into it. His head was thrown back resting against the couch as he helped you bounce on his big cock. Lip snuck between his teeth watching the way his cock goes in and out of your sweet cunt.

“it’s so big,” you whimpered. “I know baby” Haechan cooed wiping at your tears.

“missed you and this pretty fucking pussy so much” he shook his head, “can’t believe you stayed this tight”

you tried to ignore his words grabbing at his shoulders so hard you were sure he’ll have marks in the morning.

“so pathetic your boyfriend can’t get you off the way i can”

“stop” you managed to mumble out. “What's wrong? don’t like it when i talk about your sweet boyfriend?” he teased.

“How do you think he’ll feel if he saw you right now? Whoring yourself out like this for me?” the tears wouldn’t stop. You hid your face in his shoulder begging him to stop bringing Jake up.

He let out a laugh at the way you hid yourself rubbing circles in your clit. “Haechan please.. stop” you weren’t even sure if you were letting out real words anymore. Your head was dizzy and full off of being a shitty girlfriend and Haechan.

“You’re so fucking close i know you” he laughed. “Cumming from the thought of your boyfriend seeing us fuck hm? Pretty fucked up way of thinking huh pretty girl?” The tears wouldn’t stop still hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“you’re only crying because you feel bad for enjoying this” you begin to sob harder because he’s right.

You didn’t miss haechan and you didn’t miss your relationship but you missed this. The sex life. His big cock that he only enjoyed abusing on you. You love Jake and everything about him but you knew for a fact he wouldn’t fill you up the way Haechan is right now.

“Gonna cum in you” Haechan groaned, closing his eyes shut. You jolted up at his words telling him no.

“Gonna cum in your sweet cunt” Haechan moaned again ignoring your first protest.

“Haechan you can’t! i’m not on the pill—“ he covered your mouth with his left hand tossing his head back as he came in you. Filling you up so good. You closed your eyes at the feeling letting another tear fall down your cheek. Haechan finally took his hand off your mouth trying to catch his breath.

He unlocked his phone showing you to your face that the videos are gone. Deleting all three. You still sat there cheeks puffy and eyes swollen red from all your crying. Haechan wiped your face and kissed your cheeks.

“You don’t have to worry anymore okay? it’s all done” you gave him a nod getting off to clean yourself up before heading home. You couldn't wait to be back in Jake’s arms again.

When you left his apartment haechan promised not to contact you. Apologizing for bothering you in the first place again. You felt pretty good about it this time not feeling the need to block him on anything.

Haechan reached behind his flower pot, stopping the video he recorded. He smiled to himself when he hit play hearing your sobs and pleads. God it was good enough to get him hard again but not tonight. He uploaded the video to his laptop adding to a folder labeled ‘y/n’ where he kept all videos and pictures of you over the past two years. He walked up to his calendar lifting up the page to October. Circling October 21st. That’s when he’ll text you again with another video, surprise. He couldn’t believe how easy this was again.

He finally had your trust back.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo's wife going berserk in order to protect her students

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 1,7k

Synopsis: Like your bad feeling already suggested, especially Toge's and Yuji's lives hang on a threat when their mission doesn't go as planned. Good for them that Gojo's wife and their teacher rushes to their side and shows everyone just how much she cares about them.

Warnings: language, violence (lol), again, (y/n) is a badass in this one

You can find Part l of that fic here

Your foot tabs against the metal of the chair, eyes swaying back and forth between the clock and door. It’s been way too long. Way too long for your students to be gone, way too long for them to arrive in safety.

It’s not like you didn’t have a bad feeling from the start. When your husband told you about the mission in an abandoned mall with only one grade 1 curse to defeat, you simply couldn’t believe it at first.

“Don’t worry about it, Gojo-sensei! Toge and I have everything under control!”

“Salmon”, Toge added with a friendly grin.

 You hated to let them go on their own. But after all, it’s not a secret how skilled your students are, their abilities might even surpass your own in a few years. Why would you have to be worry?

“Hey, still sitting here, handsome?”

A weak smile forms itself on your lips when none other than your husband sits down next to you and begins to draw small circles on your sensitive back.

“You’re worrying way too much babe, I’m sure both of them are fine. After all, Toge is with Yuji and proved often enough that he’s able to fulfil missions on his own.”

Deep down, you know that your husband is right, that you probably worry about nothing. But still, that bad feeling in your guts…

“Are you sure this was a grade 2 curse? Maybe the elders lied about that as well…”, you grumble, memories of your last encounter flooding your mind.

Would they really be so stupid as to pass you over again? You thought you made your point of view very clear when you threatened a whole room of elders back then…

“Nothing else was reported and the extent of destruction wasn’t bad enough for anything stronger than a grade 2 curse. Hey, look at me.”

Gently, your husband cups your face with both hands, staring at you intensely with his bright blue orbs.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, okay? You trained them so well, just relax a bit”, he purrs against your lips.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage in an instant, the way he looks down at you making your mouth water. How is it even possible for a human being to look this delicious?

“Maybe you’ll be able to distract me”, you mutter, arms wrapping themselves around your husband’s neck.

Oh, the way he presses his warm body against your aching one makes your crotch throb and breath hitch. Despite the fact that you are married for over 5 years by now, he sweeps you off your feet like on day one.

“I wonder what you wear underneath that uniform today…”

“(y/n), you need to-“

Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in pure horror while he desperately tries to shove Panda and Maki out of the room.

“What are you doing here?”, you breathe out in utter surprise, cheeks still hot and pink by the way your husband touched you just seconds ago.

Oh god, this is so uncomfortable. Especially Megumi is like your very own child since Satoru decided to raise him. And the disgusted face Maki makes…

“Get yourself together Fushiguro”, she hisses while clearing her throat.

“Ijichi informed us about the fact that something seems to be off regarding Itadori’s and Inumaki’s mission. He couldn’t reach you himself, so he sent us to let you know you should support them.”

“Well, at least now we know why she didn’t answer her phone…”

“SHUT UP PANDA, THIS IS SERIOUS!”

Your heart nearly stops, all the desire you felt just moments ago dies in an instant. Did you hear that correctly? Something seems to be off? You’ve had a bad feeling about this right from the start, didn’t want both of them to go on their own. And now…

Now their lives might be in serious danger.

“I’m leaving right now”, you reply in an instant, already on your way to the door when your husband grabs your hand.

“Wait, we don’t even know what’s going on. Normally I’m the one who jumps into conclusions.”

“They are my students and it is my responsibility to make sure they’re safe, Satoru. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror tomorrow if I let them down now. Yuji is still in his first year and unexperienced when it comes to fighting. And while Toge is very skilled and thoughtful, even his abilities have their limits. I’ll do whatever I can to protect them if I have the chance.”

With a small smile he lets go of you, looking after your confident walk out. Oh, whatever is responsible for that mess will definitely pay for it.

-at the curtain-

“I came as fast as I could. What is the problem?”, you ask Ijichi the minute you get out of the car.

“Even though I’m not entirely sure, there might be the possibility that another curse appeared within the curtain…”, he slowly begins.

That fearful look on his face paired with the sweat on his forehead…No, this isn’t a speculation. Another curse appeared in there for sure.

“Who was responsible for investigating here before? How careless”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Ijichi swallows hard. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favourite back at Jujutsu High. But when it comes to your students, you change drastically. Your eyes harden, usual so kind face turning stone cold. You shove what looks like an asthma spray into your pocket.

“Whatever, this is not the right time to search for whoever screwed up. My students need me.”

With fast and confident steps, you walk through the curtain with ease.

 Only to be greeted by pure chaos.

Only to be greeted by Toge, who lays in front of you unconscious.

Fuck. Your heart hammers against your chest, hands clenching into fists in an instant. No, this wasn’t a grade 2 curse. This has to be something bigger, something that shouldn’t be here.

“Gojo-sensei!”, Yuji screams on top of his lungs while being chased by a grotesque creature.

You can tell by one look that this is a grade 1 – strong, but not unbeatable especially for both boys. So what caused this chaos? What is going on here?

Without thinking twice, you sprint towards the pink-haired boy, crushing the curse behind him with your bare fist.

“Yuji, are you alright? Did you get hurt? What happened to Toge?”

You scan his body for visible injuries, a wave of relief washing over you when all you are able to detect are a few bruises and scratches.

“There…There…Are…So…Much…M-more…”

He can’t catch his breath, completely exhausted by the fight that has to be on for hours by now.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here now. Would you please hurry to Toge and give him this medicine? I will take care of whatever is left here”, you ensure him gently, your hand running up and down his back.

“Gojo-sensei, watch out!”

Just in time, you position yourself in front of Yuji. Just before he gets hit by the merciless attack of another curse, just before a whole wave of monsters rushes towards you.

“Do what I told you. I have your back.”

And again, you dash forward. These fuckers have some nerves, injuring both of your students so badly. Why are they here? How was it even able for them to stay in the shadows with no one noticing their presence?

“You have some nerve”, you hiss towards them.

“Hurting two of my students. I’ll make you regret even existing.”

Slash after slash, fist after fist you tear them to the ground, body almost swallowed by purple blood that soaks through your uniform without mercy. No one is able to hurt your precious students without paying for it. No curse, no elders, no jujutsu sorcerer.

“Are you here to protect those boys? Pathetic, all of you will die right here”, a distorted voice behind you barks.

“I’m here to kill everyone who gets in my way. Especially fuckers like you.”

You sprint forward, sight completely numbed by the thick rage that runs through your veins. The way your fists fly through the air at neck-breaking speed leaves Yuji speechless next to Toge’s unconscious body, eyes not even able to follow your rapid movements. He has never seen you like this, so full of fury with your face distorted by hatred. Of course, it was never a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you are strong, rumours saying you even threatened the elders for your student’s sake. But at this very moment, you look almost possessed, slaughtering curse after curse until nothing except for purple rain is left of them.

“Hey, are you okay?”, you request towards Yuji softly, your hand placed on his shoulder.

There you are again, the (y/n) he knows and admires, the kind woman everyone at Jujutsu High talks so highly about. The only thing revealing what you did earlier being the purple blood still sticking to your whole body. Otherwise, your face looks as flawless as ever, eyes gleaming in kindness while you inspect Toge’s body.

“It seems like he’s worn-out, but otherwise fine. Did he take his throat medicine? His cursed speech demands a lot from him and sometimes, Toge seems to be unable to assess his own situation.”

Yuji just stares at you shamelessly, how you caress Toge’s cheek with as much care as usual. Was that really you who just slaughtered at least 50 curses within the span of a few minutes? Was it really you who spoke to one of the curses earlier with your voice frightening cold?

“Is something wrong, Yuji?”

“It’s just…I’ve never seen you like this, Gojo-sensei. You were so badass”, the boy next to you breathes out.

“Let me tell you something: No one on this earth is able to hurt my students without backlash. Whoever hurts any of you will get hurt by me. Or killed.”

“Gojo-sensei is really lucky to have a wife like you”, Yuji suddenly blurts out.

You can’t help but giggle, carefully lifting Toge’s numb body off the ground and through the disappearing curse.

“Oh, please tell him exactly that when we’re back.”

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[writing-mlm]

maybe tim drake x male reader where tim falls back into his habit of just sort of studying people like he had batman and robin. he likes the reader but obviously tim has to analyze everything about him, his own habits paired with the suspicious nature instilled in him by batman wouldn’t let him casually take interest in somebody.

It's not stalking if we kiss

Summary: Tim can't process emotions normally and does everything wrong only... it works Pairing: Tim Drake x Male reader W.C: 4k a/n: guys I cant write Tim properly omfg I rewrote this a million times

People tend to forget that Tim is actually… kinda creepy. He is second on the stalker list, right behind Joe from You and now that he thinks about it, he might be better than Joe. For one, Joe is actually creepy. He’s a killer by choice, he’s the gross stalker. Tim is the informant stalker, considering himself more of a private investigator type of stalker. And, he’s not a stalker. He’s a detective who’s really good with technology. Everyone knows that. 

Admittedly, he’s tried to grow out of those habits in his recent years. After being confronted with learning every single member of the JLA’s schedules without any of them noticing, he realized he had an issue. He went to therapy— he slept on it and watched a couple of movies and changed. 

But man, old habits die hard. 

He doesn’t realize he's fallen back into his stalking habits for a long while, that’s how second nature they had become over the years. Some sort of natural instinct he had since birth to learn about people that were only made worse through Bruce’s training and his paranoid nature. It was the perfect concoction for someone like Tim, leading him down a near-irreversible path. 

Even now, as he’s watching the surveillance footage of you as you’re out on patrol several states away, he doesn’t realize it. His eyes flicker across the screen to find the street sign, Blecker Street, you’re seventeen blocks away from home and nearly three miles out from your patrol area. Having followed one of your old goons down to an alleyway before dipping into the restaurant they ran inside. 

It was a temporary stay, your old mentor was going to be away for some time and needed someone to watch over their city in their absence. Naturally, you accepted and set up back in your old apartment, it had never been rented out considering your mentor was the landlord and sentimental in that way. But that didn’t stop Tim from worrying. He’s seen reports from that city, and while it’s not as bad as Gotham, the city had aliens and metas. It wasn’t something Gotham had to deal with often, something you had definitely stopped being used to. 

Sipping his tea, Tim watches as you roll your neck and then your shoulder as you exit the restaurant with the goon in tow, it only tells him one simple fact; you’re tired. Probably another ten or so minutes before you called it a day and went back home. He grins, he prefers it when you’re home. Well, it’s not actually home, he thinks he should call it your place for the week instead. Your home is in Gotham now, it has been for several years now. He knows you've been neighbors for quite some time now. 

Sure enough, after ten minutes you’ve called it a night and head back to your apartment. Once he gets a visual of you entering your apartment safely, he closes out the footage tabs on his laptop and goes to bed. It’s nearly eight in the morning in Gotham and he’s been up for nearly two days. His old— according to Jason— body isn’t used to staying up for four days straight anymore. 

It sucks ass. 

As he settles into bed, he just has to double-check that you’re okay. He flicks through the cameras he’s hacked into, seeing that you’ve entered the apartment and from the home security your neighbors have, he hears the door lock four times. That’s the lock, the deadbolt, and two additional locks and it settles him enough that he’s pulled into a slumber by the fact that you made it home safely. 

—

It’s small things, at least that’s what everyone tells him. The small things matter and he wholeheartedly agrees, more often than not in crimes the smallest details could be the largest but he doesn’t know how that would apply to you. Why whenever he’d mention you to Dick or even Alfred, they’d tell him that. As if it was some major deciding factor in his friendship with you.  

Ever the genius, he doesn’t connect it when he remembers the last time he was in your boat you’d mentioned how you hated the fact that people could look inside. 

So, naturally, when he finds a one-way glass cover online, he just has to buy it for you. Never mind the fact that he installs it while you’re still out of the city and without getting any sort of permission from you. But he has a key for a reason. You clearly trust him. He doesn’t see why it would be a big deal for you. Maybe for others, but you’re different. You’re… well, you. 

He installs it and has Bernard test it out from the outside and it works. Not that he doubted his work would ever fail. He checks for himself and he’s pleasantly surprised that someone would only be able to look inside if they got within an inch of the window. And he thoroughly doubts anyone could even get that close to begin with. 

While he’s there, cleaning up the mess he didn’t mean to make, he notices that the fruits on your counter are going bad. It would be bad if you returned to a house of moldy food, so he throws it out and cleans the bowl before Tim decides he needs to make sure there’s nothing else wrong on the boat. 

It’s only nice. 

He ends up with a trash bag filled with nearly rotten fruit, an expired milk jug that only had one bowl of cereal left, some cleaning wipes, and a gross-smelling sponge. He knows you don’t live in filth, you hate dust and mold, so he figures the sponge had accidentally retained some nasty liquid that only got worse with your departure and subsequent lack of attention. 

Tim, knowing you well enough, goes back out to replace the sponge but he rationalizes that if he’s buying a sponge he might as well restock your home. It feels weird going to the store to pick up just one thing. He takes a list of everything you’re running low on or out of entirely and sets out for the second time that day. Never mind the fact that he had agreed to drinks with Bernard who was now forced to tag along if he even wanted to get a taste of drinks later that night.

He returns to the boat with Bernard deciding to wait outside, something about not missing another planned event, and puts everything into their rightful place. He knows where everything goes, the meticulous spots that you never change whenever you deep clean.

Should he deep clean for you?

“Good God! Let’s go!” Bernard yells after Tim has spent a whole ten minutes debating if he should deep clean the entire boat. 

“It’s not like you’re coming home with me,” He huffs, exiting the boat. Bernard raises an eyebrow and Tim raises his back. “You always go off when we get drinks— I’m just the wingman,”

“Yeah, a pretty shit one.” Bernard scoffs. 

—

“Hey,” He answers his phone without looking up from his current case. It doesn’t have his attention, it hasn’t since you left, but he needs to get at least a little work done. Even if he’s still riding out the splitting headache from yesterday. “How’s city-sitting?” He glances at the phone, making sure it was on speaker. 

“Calm,” You answer, crawling out onto the fire escape of your old apartment. “Better than Gotham— my place doesn’t move with the wind anymore, either.” You chuckle, now settled onto one of the old metal stairs. 

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of staying,” He frowns, taking the phone off of the speaker and pressing it to his ear. Now that he thinks about it, he wouldn’t mind moving to your city. It’s nice. 

“Nah,” Your face scrunches as you say it. “It’s nice, but it’s too retirement home for me. I’m not ready to give up having a constant stock of bottled water and up-to-date gas masks.” You joke. 

“That’s good,” He stops himself from sighing. “My rent would’ve gone up.” He jokes, flipping through the pages of his files. 

“You’re rich,” You scoff, it’s playful. There’s no harm in it. “It’s crazy we’re paying rent to live on fucking water, though.” You add, leaning back on the stairs.

“Eh,” He shrugs, grabbing a pen and flipping it between his fingers. He’s sure somewhere in the galaxy someone is paying rent to live on air. “Capitalism will always be crazy.”

“Oh, by the way, the supermarket had a sale on those ice creams you like. I got you some,” He admits while putting the phone back on speaker. 

“Bitch,” You draw out. Tim hears your smile and softly smiles, now taking apart his pen. “I love you, dude. Oh my god, I’m gonna raw dog them once I get back.” You all but moan.

“…sometimes I wish you thought before you spoke,” He cringes, staring at his phone. Never mind the way hearing you say that made him feel things.

“Sorry!” You laugh. “But, thanks. How much do I—“

“I’m rich,” He reminds you, putting the pen back together. His phone beeps midway putting the ink back into the metal casing and he glances at his phone. It’s an alert that your mentor was spotted back in the city. He smiles at the alert, a part of his nerves calming immediately. 

Good, you’ll be back in two days. 

“I gotta go,” He lies knowing your mentor will be back within the next two minutes. 

“Ah, okay. Keep me updated about that case, I just know it’s that Elvis impersonator!” Standing up, you stretch and he nearly hears the pop of your joints. 

“It’s not, but okay.” 

He does very little in the window between then and your return, he’s mostly counting the hours and patrolling. It’s the usual for patrol, albeit a little boring without your chatter in his ear. He’s happy to report he didn’t get any major injuries in that time frame, though. 

When you finally return to Gotham, Tim waits for you on the deck of the boat. He’s pretending to hardly care, acting caught up in some footage he’s reviewing to notice you walking up to the docks. 

“Missed me?” You grin, stepping into the boat with ease. He remembers when you’d been so nervous to get on them before, fearing you’d fall into the nasty water below. 

He looks up, a grin across his face and eyes taking you in. You’ve tanned in your absence, although he supposed Gotham doesn’t get nearly as much sun as Florida does. 

“Hardly noticed you were gone,” He teases and closes his laptop. Rolling your eyes, you invite him inside. He takes the invitation with ease, slipping inside your boat as you scan around. 

“You cleaned?” You ask, the smell of his favorite cleaning products still lingering in the air. “Don’t tell me that the Tim Drake had a party in my boat house!” You gasp, looking at him. 

“Hardly,” He nudges you aside so he can sit on the couch bench. “You had some food going bad so I figured I might as well clean up.” He explains.

“Thanks, baby girl,” You draw out the girl, a southern twang coming through. Rolling his eyes, he watches as you kick your shoes off and toss your duffle bag into your bedroom before joining him on the couch. “How was the case?” Lugging your legs up to the spare room around you, you lay your head on his shoulder while he opens his laptop again and huffs. Not good, then. 

“It’s the Elvis guy,” You quietly sing as he’s watching the footage again; that alone answers your question. The case isn’t even close to being finished. Yikes. 

“It’s not him.” He insists, mindlessly scrolling through the stolen footage. “I’m starting to lean towards the woman I interviewed first, but I’m sure I’ll solve it before tomorrow.” As he speaks he’s biting back a yawn. 

“Wanna take a nap, clear your head and shit?” You ask as you stand up. It was a long drive from Florida to Gotham and you were honestly beat. Probably another hour or so before your body took over and you knocked out. 

“Of course,” He grins and you nod, taking a quick shower. 

Naps with Tim aren’t anything new. He falls asleep often (you think there’s something medically wrong going on but what do you know) and you’re not going to leave the perfect opportunity to get a little sleep slip right past you. So, he’s gotten accustomed to dropping on your shoulder and sleeping; which naturally progressed into the two of you napping on couches or beds together. But only if you were seriously beat. 

Joining Tim on your bed you find that he’s still awake but slowly falling asleep. Waiting up for you, his eyes peer towards the door as you enter and he lifts the sheets up for you. Joining him, you lay on your stomach, letting your body relax as he sleeps on his side, his back facing you. 

Rolling onto your back, you let out a small sigh and turn your head to look at him. 

“Stop staring,” He whispers, turning so now he’s facing you. With hardly open eyes, he stares at you, waiting for you to look away from him. Smiling, you make it a point to look away and turn away from him, raising the covers to your chin and trying to dig yourself deeper into the plush bed. Now he’s staring at you, almost pulled in towards you. 

Tim knows he likes you. He thinks he’s laying his hints down well enough, he thinks he’s being romantic with his actions. He’s so sure you know that you’re just waiting for the right moment to ask him. 

You aren’t. 

Because you don’t know. 

You’re not oblivious by any means, you know when someone likes you. But with Tim, that’s just how he’s always been. You’ve known him as the kid who found out Batman because he was an amazing detective, the guy you’d go to if you wanted to find something or someone. He always had those tendencies, so it didn’t make you bat an eye when you became his latest target. 

It was like his acts of service and who are you to question it? 

That’s not to say you don’t like him back. 

No, it’s not weird that you’re sharing the same bed, chest to back. Yes, there’s plenty of space around the two of you, but what’s the harm in being close? 

The harm is that Tim isn’t focusing on falling asleep. 

You’re sound asleep, blissfully unaware of his qualms but Tim won’t keep his eyes off of you. His eyes trace the strands in your hair, settle on how you’ve accidentally shifted the cover down to your stomach with how much you kick. How you hardly dried off from the shower, favoring the peaceful sleep you knew was awaiting you instead of enjoying the privacy of your bathroom. 

His eyes follow and trace your body again and he doesn’t do it with any intentions other than curious ones. 

He doesn’t know where that shirt is from, he’s helped with your laundry before and he’s never seen that shirt but it’s faded enough that he knows it’s old. The collar is stretched out and the tag is sticking out, the words all but faded. It’s old and well-loved. 

It’s probably one of the clothes you left behind in your old apartment. 

Sighing, he closes his eyes and flips to his back, trying his best to fall asleep. It’s normally not an issue for him, he can fall asleep and wake up on command most days but today is different for some reason. Maybe he’s missed you so badly that his body won’t let him sleep until it’s felt he’s had enough time spent with you to make up for the absence. 

“Can’t sleep?” You ask after he turns again, this time back to his original position. 

“Sorry,” He mutters the apology, doing his best to seem as though he was falling asleep. He flips onto his back to look at you, a tired gaze clouding your eyes. 

“It’s okay, I was hardly asleep.” You shrug and then make a face akin to a mischievous grin. “Wanna cuddle?” Looking at you, he tries to figure out if you’re joking or not. “But only if I’m a big spoon.” You add. 

“That works,” He nods and turns his back to you, awkwardly shuffling back as you shuffle forward. Humming, you wrap your left arm around him and settle your head on top of his, with your right arm acting as another pillow for his head. His hair smells like your favorite scent and you’re surprised you hadn’t realized sooner. But it is a little faint. 

“This good?” You mutter. 

“Mhmm,” He hums and you hum back, letting your eyes close again. 

—

Tim watches you as you work through the cameras; your day job is a normal, boring receptionist job at the hospital. You’re talking to a man while Tim is in the Batcave, his feet propped up on the desk and eyes strained to not blink. He’s thumbing through different angles and misusing Bruce’s tech to get information from everyone you talk to. All their records pop up to the screen on the left and he skims through them all. 

No one is dangerous so far, aside from someone who was recently treated for lice. It makes his scalp itch when he thinks about it for too long. 

“You should get a job,” Damian grunts from behind him. “This is creepy, even for you, Drake.” Tim waves him off, he’s not being weird. He’s just making sure you’re safe, that’s it. He also doesn’t care what the boy cleaning bloody swords has to say about his habits.

“I do have a job,” He mutters, switching the camera again. It’s time for your break and you’ll probably call soon. “I’m at Wayne Enterprises, running a team for the IT department.” The right screen switches to his work account where he’s running a code to fix his team's code. He’ll double-check it once he’s home. 

He watches as you fish your phone out and he prepares for the call but his phone remains uncalled. The screen is black and you’re clearly in the middle of a call, he squints and decides to check who you’re calling. It could be debt collectors or scammers, he’s just looking out for you. 

The number quickly runs through his database and he sighs, it’s fucking Bart. 

“-m, he won’t say no to you.” Bart laughs and Tim watches as you shake your head, leaning against the wall of the break room. 

“When you texted that it was an emergency, I assumed it was, you know, an emergency.” Oh, that makes more sense. Tim settled into his seat, you hadn’t preferred calling Bart over him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I think my fridge breaking is an emergency!” Bart shouts. “Please— ask Tim to buy me a new one! One with a screen and a double fridge. Please!”

“No-“ Bart groans loudly into the phone. “You’re not helping your case right now.” You chide.

“Frick you, man.” Bart hangs up and you stare at your screen before moving to call Tim. He grins, exiting out of your phone, and stares at his phone. It rings and he waits three whole seconds before picking up. 

“Drake is reaching new levels of creeper,” Damian tells Bruce as the older man walks into the Batcave. Tim pays no mind, walking away from the computer for privacy. “There are laws against these sorts of things.”

“Hey,” He ducks under Dick swinging around on a bar before messing with memorabilia on the shelves. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.” 

“You? Never,” 

—

You’re upset. Tim doesn’t know why but he knows you are. All of the lights are on in the boat and he can hear the bass in whatever music you’re playing. Had it been any louder it might’ve begun to rattle the windows. 

He knocks on the door for two minutes straight before he unlocks the door himself. You don’t notice, which is an issue in itself, but to your credit, you notice when he steps further inside. 

“What happened?” He carefully asks, the music lowering with several clicks from the remote. You shrug, not the worst sign of your mood, and shift over to invite him inside. “Work?” Nodding, he frowns. Of course, it would be the one day he couldn’t watch over the cameras that something would happen. 

“I got written up because I didn’t let this group of teenagers spit at me.” You explain. “You’d think working at a hospital they’d understand how nasty spit is. But apparently, they’re doctors, kids so it’s whatever.” Fiddling with your laptop, he catches the Job Finders tab hidden in a mess of random tabs. Good, he’s always hated that job for you. 

“Was it that manager with the yellow hair? Linny?” 

“It always is!” You exclaim, tossing the empty soda can into the trash can. “One more write-up and I’ll go on probation again.”

“You could come and work at Wayne Enterprises.” He offers, eyes rising slowly from the laptop to you... “I’m pretty sure I have an opening as a receptionist. Or other jobs… of course. In case you wanted a change of jobs.” You look at him, eyebrows raise and he offers a smile. 

“It is closer,” You trail off. 

“Benefits are great, too.” He grins. “And I’m not just talking about seeing me every day.” Pushing his arm, he laughs and closes your laptop. “I’m serious! You’ll get paid more, no one would yell at you because we never get anyone wanting to see us, and there’s sick time.”

“Okay, I’ll apply,” You give in and he cheers, holding you with one arm before shaking you. Laughing, you cover your mouth and push away from him. “But next week, I’m busy this week. You’ll put in a good word for me, right?”

“Of course, what else would I use my position of power for?”

“Let me shower and we can… watch a movie?” You ask and he nods, watching you leave. Once the shower turns on he fumbles with his phone. 

“B, can you give me a receptionist?… No, I know there’s no need but I kinda told (Y/n)—… Okay, and? Like you haven’t lied to anyone!… Please, I’m sorry. Just can you make that a job?… Oh, thank god!” 

—

A week later, Tim helps you send in a resume. Of course, since the official announcement of a new position, there have been dozens of applications. All of which Tim is in charge of reviewing. Not that you would know. 

You’re relieved when you get the interview— put in your two weeks when you’re told you’ve made it to the final interview stage— and sit with Tim while you’re waiting to hear if you got the job. 

Your phone rings as you’re pacing around the boat, second-guessing putting in your two weeks. Not really, though, because Linny had given you another write-up for clocking back in from lunch a minute late. You have Tim answer it for you and he puts it on speaker, watching as you hear the news you’ve gotten the job. 

“Okay, thank you so much!” Ending the call, you stare at Tim slack-jawed. “Tim, I could kiss you!” He stares at you for a moment before he shrugs. 

“Why don’t you?” He asks and you blink before licking your lips. His eyes follow before he does the same. “Not that you have to, because you got the job. I wouldn’t expect anything just because I put in a good word for you.”

“Of course,” You nod. “But is it weird that I still want to?”

“No,” He shakes his head, stepping closer. 

“Cool,” Tentatively, you cup his face and lean in. He meets you, eyes immediately closing as you kiss. His hands find yours, moving it down to his waist. He holds you there, relishing this feeling.

[hotnbloodied]

Yan!Loser X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: kidnapping, drugging, non-con kissing and touching, stalking, mentions of axe body spray.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

Pt. 2

It was around lunch time and you were on your way to your university’s canteen. You normally had lunch a little later to avoid the crowds but today you couldn’t hold your hunger in at all and you needed to get something to eat. In doing so the canteen was packed and by the time you had gotten some food all the tables seemed full. You scanned around for a little bit before noticing a small table that only had one person sitting at it. A guy with a small frame and black baggy clothes with messy unkempt hair. Without thinking too much about it you walked over. “Hey sorry to bother, would you mind if I could just sit here and eat?” You asked.

He looked like he jolted a little and looked at you like he'd seen a ghost. “Y-yeah…” Not much of a response, but that didn’t stop you from going ahead and sitting down to start devouring your food. After you were finally satiated you looked over cause you felt like someone was watching you and needless to say, his eyes were glued on you.

“Uh, do I have something on my face?” You asked him. His face whipped away. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” You laughed and told him it wasn’t a big deal. “What’s your name anyway? I’m (y/n), majoring in (major).” He raised his head to look at you again. “I’m Lester, I’m a biology major…” “That’s awesome!” You look at the time. “I should probably head out, my next class starts soon. See you around though!” Little did you know that your small act of kindness would come back to haunt you.

A couple of weeks pass and you seem to be seeing Lester more and more around campus. (Totally not because he’s trying to learn your schedule at all.) You don’t pay too much mind to it though considering a new friend is always nice. (As if he’d allow you to just be friends with him.) The two of you exchanged social messaging information which turned into an easy way for Lester to keep tabs on you. (You really should be careful about how you share your information.) You didn’t notice the increase of interaction from Lester, you were too sleep deprived and worried about school to notice which he’s grateful for since it’ll make it easier to make plans. Lester was a patient man, he knows how to make a pay off extra sweet.

You learn a bit more about Lester, even though he has a messy appearance he actually is a relatively neat person. He seemed to shower regularly and his clothes weren’t being reworn, but he only chooses to use axe body spray at his age for some reason. He doesn’t seem to have many friends cause, shocker, he’s an extreme introvert; Which makes you pity him which he fully knows and uses to play into to get your trust. With that trust he invites you over to his house, apparently his parents are in the science field as well and as long as Lester keeps his grades up they’d let him do whatever. The two of you would hang out and study at his place.

Six months had passed in a blink of an eye and the two of you were watching a movie together, it wasn’t that late but you felt extremely sleepy for some reason. The two of you just ate dinner that Lester cooked. “Hm? What’s wrong (y/n)? Are you tired?” “Haha, yeah I don’t know why. Maybe I was more tuckered out with finals than I thought.” “Why don’t you stay over? You’re more than welcome to spend the night.” You didn’t reply to Lester, it was because the sleeping pills he slipped into your drink worked like wonders and you were out like a light. Lester slowly dragged your body to his room and laid you on his bed. Chains were ready for you as he securely bound you to them. He loomed over your sleeping body in his bed, he couldn’t keep the excitement in his pants at bay. He took advantage of your lips and dry humped your leg, imagining what it would be like to finally be able to become one with you. Oh if only you knew how love sickness ran in his family. How that’s how his mom ensnared his dad and how having his ground and alibi covered was a learned family skill. No one will find you and you two will live happily together, forever. <3

Pt. 2

Lester <3

[weeping-fairy]

My first lil writing. Just Spencer Reid smut

Please be constructive, this is literally the first time I've ever written something like this. MDNI 18+

It has crying, unprotected pnv, multiple orgasms, non specific body size, sorta friends to lovers, sorta sub spencer, and ya things like that.

word count: 3131

Spencer has always had a thing for you. 

Poor guy could never admit that though. I mean you, in his eyes, is probably the most stunning person he had ever seen. Its not like he would watch from afar, no you guys are good friends. Every time you guys hang out he has a new fact to tell you, wanting to impress you. He especially loves to tell you things that he knows you are interested in. If you talk about anything he's researching it, trying to understand it the way you do. Its his way of getting closer to you. Him being an intellectual, he loves learning your brain. Youve even taught him a few things, mostly about social interactions, something he is not too good at. He studies the way you effortlessly coast through an awkward situation, how you avoid saying certain things, how you know when to talk and when not to. Its absolutely fascinating to him, how much you know about strangers. He's a profiler, and he's glad he gets to use his training to learn you. 

Whenever he comes home, he always goes to you. This case was particularly hard for him as it hit close to home. He couldn't help but to think of you. The victims friend deeply in love with her. She died the day he was going to tell her. And he had the misfortune of interrogating him for her murder. 

Through tears he explains, "Please you have to believe me, I had nothing to do with this.." the man unable to breathe, Spencer interrupts:

"What did you do when you found out about her boyfriend?"

The subject completely dumbfounded, "Her what?"

Spencer could tell he was being genuine, he had no idea about any boyfriend, he didn't kill her in a jealous rage, he loved her, and she will never know how much. 

Spencer had wished that you were there, to change the subject, or maybe provide your calming presence for the troubled man. If anyone could get him out of this, it would be you. After that awkward interview he couldn't push you out of his mind, how similar this situation is to his own. You could die, and you will never know how he feels. He starts to overthink on the jet ride home. 

"I've waited too long, she wouldn't like me back." 

"It doesn't matter, nobody wants the burden of being with me, I'm never home, she deserves someone who could be by her side"

"And what if by some sort of miracle she likes me back? then what, my job will put her in danger. everyone that i touch is murdered. Maybe i should just stay away, it'll help the both of us"

You knew that Spencer must've been having a hard time. He always keeps tabs on you, texting you everyday, occasionally a call if he gone for more than a week. 

This time its different, he hasn't gotten back at all. Its not total silence, but its enough to get you worried. 

You decide to text: "Hey, I hope every thing is ok, you haven't been talking to me as much. I'm not upset, i know that sometimes cases get hard and draining. I just want to be there for you if you want to talk about it, or something else to get your mind off of it. I look forward to hanging out when you get back, stay safe!"

His response is cold, which only worsens your anxiety

"Just a hard case. Don't want to get into it."

That's all? Spencer is never like this, ever. You can feel your heart drop, tears form. 

"Did i do something? Did i push to far, hurt him by accident?" You start to cry, but still respond:

"That's ok, let me know if you need anything at all, alright?" No response. A day later you stopped by his place, unannounced. He opens the door, obliviously surprised that its you. His eyes widen, he always looks at you like that. It makes your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. 

"hey i hope this ok, i just missed you." you end the what felt like a long pause. He says nothing, instead moving out your way to let you in. Its like second nature, he cant even think when he lets you in, he just knows he needs you around. 

You enter the space, you've been there 1000x before but this time there's an undeniable tension, it makes you nervous. Your head swirling with negative thoughts, worried that he hates you, you must've said something to trigger this behavior right?

When you show up at his house he's in awe. He had been pushing you away, the newest case affecting him in ways that made him uncomfortable. Made him face feelings that he had known were there but pushed away. But there you were anyways, in his home, just you. It had been too long, and just your presence had put him at ease. Due to the abnormal distance from you he was also unbelievably turned on. This always happens on long cases, but usually he would call you, listen to your voice as you fall asleep. The soft, tired tone of your voice enough to make him cum without even touching himself. But this case was different, he pushed you away on purpose, and he had deprived himself of these small moments to keep his raging hormones at bay. He could text you or call you and then fuck his fist and act like he didn't just imagine you in a very compromising position. But now here you were, at his door. Your face flushed, eyes tired. You weren't wearing anything revealing, but that didn't stop him from imagining what was underneath the clothes. It took everything in him not to stare at the way your shirt stretched over your breasts. He moves aside to let you in, his eyes fall to your ass as you walk past him. Your scent trails behind you, it was subtle. Your perfume complimenting your natural scent perfectly. He watches as you turn to face him, your big eyes looking up at him, a pleading look in your eyes. You don't need to speak. 

"Im so sorry," he whispers. You cut him off.

"did i do something?" your voice threatening to break.

He thinks to himself "fucking idiot, she's about to cry because of you and the only thing you can think of is how you want to be buried between her thighs," his mind drifts for a second before responding, thinking about how heavenly your moans would sound muffled, your thighs pressed up against his ears. In fact he doesn't respond, all the pessimism that had plagued his mind, gone. Instead he steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. He looks at your lips and moves in. Just doing it. 

Feeling his hand on your face made your cheeks burn. A pool forms at the bottom of your stomach. Then he does it, he kisses you, a soft, surprised moan slips out. This only serves to turn him on more. Kissing you deeper now, your lips part just enough for his tongue to slip in. This makes you step back, your back is met with the closed door. He moves with you, caging you in. His hands move to your hips, gripping the soft fat of your hips. His hands creep under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your bare skin. You stop him,

"Wait," you say breathless, "what's going spencer?"

His forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, he begins to speak, years of feelings coming out in one single word:

"Please." Then his eyes blink open to be met with your own. Your pupils blown. You don't respond with words but a passionate kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You dont know what led up to this, but that doesn't matter right now. Your mind consumed with the pleasure of his lips against yours. He starts backing away from the door, his hands still under your shirt, on your waist leading you to the couch. He sits down, holding you still looking up at you, he gently tugs you to straddle his lap. No words, just staring at each other with lust and longing. He holds your face in his hands and admires you. He kisses you again, gentle. He keeps your head in his hands and kisses from your lips, to your jaw, down to your neck. He cradles your head as he continues, moaning against your skin. The taste of just your skin is magnificent. You can feel his bulge press against you, at first you sit up a bit, but as you melt under his soft moans and gentle kisses, you sit down. The feeling of your bodies joining elicits a moan from the both of you. He moves his head from the crook of your neck to look at you, his face flushed. 

"I'm sorry, i cant help it, vie needed this for so long," he whines, bucking his hips against you. You meet him in the middle, grinding against him, your face falls to the crook of neck. 

He pleads "no no please, i need to see your pretty face"

You look at him. He leans back on the couch and keeps a firm grip on your hips, not guiding you, but keeping you firmly pressed against him. 

"yes yes please, god you are so beautiful," his voice breaking, tears forming. 

"please keep going, please i could cum just like this," tears falling now

You slow down a bit and hold his face, "what's wrong? spencer you are crying"

In a sheepish tone he responds, "please don't stop, i just need you so bad, you are all i think about please, please"

His hands tighten around your hips in an effort to get you back to the pace you were at before. But this doesn't work, you stop.

"Please spencer, what is wrong?"

A quiet sob comes out and he hugs you, "I just- this case. it made me think about you and I'm tired of pretending that everything you do doesn't affect me. Even the most insignificant things are like their kind of art when preformed by you. Ive written poems about the soft sound of your breathing when the conversation hits a lull. And i cant act like im not completely enchanted by you. I cant ever let you go without telling you that, without you knowing that i am completely smitten with you."

You hold him as he admits this, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the same way. You hold him as he sobs.

"Spencer, lets go lay down ok?" You say as you stand up off of him. You lay in his bed and hold him, his ear placed against your heart he calms down. A comfortable silence falls between the both of you. you break it:

"Spencer?," you whisper, almost afraid to break the ease the quiet has provided.

"yes?" He responds in the same, yet more eager tone

"You know i love you too.." 

He looks up at you and kisses you, shifting his body on top of yours, then he stops himself:

"We can go slow, im sorry im just eager"

You reassure him, "No please, dont stop, i need this too."

He does not need to be told twice, the blood rushing to his groin as the words leave your mouth. He shifts between your legs and kisses your neck as he grinds against you. His ear at the perfect place to hear every one of the soft moans fall from your lips. He leaves open mouth, sloppy kisses against your neck, groaning at the taste of your skin. He desperately rubs against you, his hands going under your shirt, massaging your breasts. You buck your hips up, you moan his name and he stops, meeting your gaze. He gives a confused expression.

"take it off spencer, dont stop please"

He does, for a second his brain short circuits. Staring at you topless, it was better than he could've ever imagined. His face moves to the crook between your breasts. Kissin you with reverence. A whimper falls from his mouth with each kiss. Whispering sweet pleasantries' into your skin.

"you are so soft, so sweet"

"thank you so much, so beautiful" 

His mouth attaches to your nipple while his hand rests atop the other. Sucking your nipple into a hard bud, then doing the same to the other. As happy as he is right now he wants something more, he kisses down your body, gripping at the waist band of your pants and pulling them down. Its like hes in a trance. You aren't complaining, lifting your hips so he can pull everything off. He looks down at you, you look up at him. There's a vulnerability in your eyes, you are almost completely naked on his bed and he has yet to take anything off. He notices this and holds your face,

"whats wrong?" he questions further, "did i do something wrong?"

You assure him, "no no, just exposed is all and you aren't" You let out an awkward chuckle to bring light. He looks embarrassed as you bring this up, in his mind this was never about him, it was about you. He could cum in his pants by just sucking your breast all day if that's what you wanted. Although he craves your touch, it doesn't have the same effect as touching you. 

Hearing you. Tasting you. 

"You want me naked?" you cant help but to laugh at the question.

"well isn't that how this usually goes?" He smiles at you and rushes to take his clothes off. He just wants to get back to kissing you. You both share giddy giggles as he gets back on top of you. He kisses you, its sweet. Its beautiful, there's no fear. Nothing about spencer has ever frightened you, even when all he wants to do is ravage you he still stops and slows down. He always notices your face, hes studied every expression you make. With spencer you feel known. As the kissing gets deeper he moves to your neck and back down your body. Kissing where the waistline of your underwear sits. Then he moves his head between your legs, kissing your clothed cunt. Lapping up your clothed core. Finally he cant take it, he pushes your panties to the side and starts. He kisses it before he eats it, worshiping his meal. He might as well have said grace. His tongue delves into your folds. Your taste causing him to moan against you. the vibrations shoot through your body. He attaches to your clit, licking and sucking as his fingers graze your entrance. As he continues he cant help but to hump the mattress. He cant stop it. Your moans and the way your body reacts to his touch is all to much for him. And when his fingers dive in, that's it for him. He stops for a second to look at your face. 

"her face.." he thinks to himself. your face contorted with pleasure. You look up at him, his fingers working you from within and his thumb rubs your swollen clit. 

"Sp-spencer" over and over. Its the only word your know. The familiar coil tightens in your stomach. You are close. You grip his shoulders, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

"please just like that," you whine. Its spencers turn to plead,

"Please i wanna make you feel good, please cum for me"

Finally it hits you like a ton of bricks, you clench around his fingers as he slows his ministrations, working you through. As you cum you moan his name, its like heroin to him, he loves it. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. The sight is something out of a museum. Your own personal art, a snapshot that will etch itself into your memory. You pull him to you and kiss him. The both of you moan as your lips attach. Your hand palms him through his boxers, he bites your bottom lip as he moans. Your hand reaches in his boxers and works him. His tip sticky with pre-cum. He whimpers in your neck.

"spencer i need you, i need you in me" 

He immediately springs into action, removing your panties and his own boxers. He lines himself and looks at you as his tip slips in. The ecstasy on your face, the way you let your head fall, and your jaw goes lax. He slowly moves until he bottoms out. His own eyes flutter shut, tears forming. 

"so so warm" he mumbles as he starts to thrust harder. Hes not fast but he is deep, pounding in deep. It almost knocks the air out of you, for a scrawny guy his thrusts are powerful. Tears falling from his eyes he rambles

"dont make me stop, im not sad you just feel amazing, i need this please"

"its ok spencer please keep going, you feel so good."

He hides in your neck, his hips still moving. he whimpers in your ear

"so good, so pretty, god i love you so much, thank you, thank you." His movements grow sloppier, you are close too, but hes a lot closer. 

"spencer please just a little longer, mmso close" more tears fall from his eyes as he fights to not finish, he reaches between the both of you and starts to rub your clit. The extra stimulation is just what you need.

"f-fuck spencer im cumming"

He slams into you a couple more times then cums deep inside you. He bites your neck to hide the pathetic moan/sob that falls from his mouth. He stays sheathed within your warmth as he catches his breath. the occasional "thank you" and "i love you" whispers come from him as he calms down. As he pulls out a gasp comes from the both of you. He watches his essence seep out of you. Then looks at your face. Your spent, sweat glistens against your forehead, your hair a mess. You reach your arms out to him, and he lays next to you. You lay your head on his chest. 

"spencer, that was perfect," you say, your voice raspy and raw. 

"i hope so, ive thought about that a lot" he holds you, rubbing your back lazily. You sit in silence till he hears your soft snores. He chuckles to himself and makes sure the blankets are snug around the both of you. He shuts his eyes and falls asleep, listening to his new favorite white noise. 

If yall hate it or have any pointers lemme know! I hope everyone enjoys, i think its nice. I'm sorry if its confusing or anything i wrote it in like a stream of conciseness

[wizardinggirl]

The Snake & The Raven

Summary: You and Severus head to Hogsmeade for a few drinks before school starts tomorrow. By the time the night is over, you might’ve confessed a little more than you intended.

Warnings: drinking

Go to the beginning here -> Prologue (1/2)

Last: Part 1

Part 2: I’ve Missed You

Word Count: 1.7k

The trip to Hogsmeade was fun—perhaps too much fun. The two of you had made it to The Three Broomsticks for some Butterbeers; you’d convinced Severus that he should enjoy his last day before school started again tomorrow and worry about the rest of his papers later. You succeeded in getting him to have two tankards, but failed to get him to take Fire Whiskey shots with you. It had been a long time since the two of you had been able to sit down and let loose like this. He had been so distant over the past year.

“Remember that time in our fifth year when Black, Potter, Pettigrew, and Lupin couldn’t stop making animal sounds during one of Dumbledore’s speeches in the Great Hall?” you asked, nursing your third Butterbeer with a devious smirk as you glanced over at Severus. His eyes widened.

“Did—was that you?” You raised your brows and shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Why would you do that? You were with Black at that time, were you not?”

“Yeah,” you paused and took another sip, your face falling slightly. “But they were really hard on you at that time. The bullying was bordering on torture, and I couldn’t just stand by anymore, even though you had been a right git to me and still hadn’t apologized.” Another sip. “I had been working on something in Potions and needed to try it out.” You looked at him with a smirk. “They were the perfect guinea pigs.” He was looking at you with a newfound admiration. That hadn't been long after he’d been a complete ass to you, yet you still defended him. He hadn’t realized he had been staring at your face until you leaned closer and smiled up at him.

“What are you thinking about?” His eyes snapped to yours, then his face relaxed.

“That you’ve had too much to drink, and I should get you back.” He stood up from his stool at the bar, taking some galleons from his pocket and paying the tab. You pouted up at him.

“But I’m having so much fun with you.” He didn’t know what to make of the way he felt when those big puppy dog eyes looked up at him. He felt his face warming up and averted his gaze, lightly grabbing your arm to help you off your seat.

“Aww, fine.” You chugged the last of your Butterbeer and set the tankard down at the bar. “Let’s go, then.” You wrapped your arms around one of his as he led you back to Hogwarts. “But I don’t want to go to bed yet.” You pouted, crossing your arms and sticking your nose up in defiance.

“Now I know you’ve had too much to drink.” He reached around you to open the door to your quarters. He was exhausted; you had been far too difficult to get back to Hogwarts after drinking one too many shots of Fire Whiskey. “Y/N, unlock your door.”

“No.” You defied him again, speaking to his chest this time. So close. You closed your eyes to savor the smell of him—the same one from your Amortentia potion back in school. He gave you a disappointed grunt and took out his wand.

“Alohomora.” The door clicked open behind you, and you started to fall back. Your eyes shot open, but you couldn’t catch your balance.

“Whoa!” Severus was quicker than the gravity trying to pull you down. He grabbed your arms, pulled you forward, and you flew against his chest. “Oof!” You let out a laugh. You heard him mumble something about being hard-headed, then he turned you around so your back was to his chest and walked you into your quarters, closing the door behind him. He had a firm grip on your shoulders as he guided you through the main area of the room. A desk sat in the middle of the floor with a tall-backed chair behind it and a squattier version sitting in front of the desk, a built-in bookshelf to the right, and a beautiful stained glass window in the back with a raven showing its wings proudly. He steered you to the left, pulled back a curtain, and attempted to get you up the three steps to the small room. It sounded simple enough, but going up those few steps was far more difficult with you practically boneless, giggling all the way.

“Y/N, please. Stand up straight.” You were on the top step, leaning back against him at an awkward angle, your head on his shoulder. As you laughed, your breath fanned over his neck. He tensed and cleared his throat, looking straight ahead. Realizing that asking nicely wasn’t going to work and wanting to get back to his own bed quickly with an odd feeling in his stomach, he grabbed your waist with a firm grip and lifted. You let out a shriek and put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He only had to walk a few steps before he set you down next to your bed.

“Go on, then,” he said, letting go of your waist and letting his hands hang stiffly by his sides. Now wearing a serious expression, you slid one hand to rest on his chest and the other up his neck to cup his jaw. He was trying to look anywhere but at you. You ran your finger over his jaw and just looked at him—just looked. You scanned over his jaw, his chin, lips, nose, and finally his eyes…which were now on you, unsure.

“I’ve missed you, Severus,” you whispered. Bringing your hand to his hair, you ran your fingers through his jet-black locks. You shifted your eyes to his hair before speaking again. “I wish I knew why you stopped writing regularly.” You let your hand fall back to his shoulder, then down his arm to hold his hand, your eyes following. “Perhaps I was reading too far into things,” you mumbled to yourself. After a long pause and nothing from him, you let go of his hand and took your other from his chest, moving to unclip your cloak and letting it fall to the ground. You didn’t dare look at him. Even in your haze, you knew you didn’t want to see how he was looking at you. He probably thought you were pathetic. “I think I’ll go to bed now.” Turning away from him, you pulled up your covers and crawled into bed.

“You still have your shoes on,” he said quietly. You didn’t care. Your inebriated heart was hurting, and you weren’t worried about dirt in the bed. You heard a shuffle, and then he was pulling your feet to the edge of the bed, silently taking off your shoes before tucking your feet back under the covers. With a wave of his wand, the lights went out. Then the door clicked, and he was gone.

“Ugh.” You groaned as the light peeked through the window and straight into your eyes. You tried to open your eyes enough to read the clock, but all you could manage was a squint. You still had time before your first class started, so you decided to take a shower. After grabbing your towel and a change of clothes, you walked down the steps towards the sitting area. As you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes and hopefully the headache you felt coming on, you noticed something on your desk. There was a glass vial with an amber-looking liquid swirling around in it, along with a note.

This will help.

—Severus

As soon as you read the note, it all came rushing back to you. You’d completely embarrassed yourself.

“Oh, Merlin!” You leaned against your desk and ran your hand over your face. You felt like such a fool, and you were a very touchy drunk. “I have to apologize.” You’d probably made him so uncomfortable. He wasn’t exactly a huge fan of physical touch, so you’d always been aware of not doing too much around him. You looked back over at the note. You must not have made him too mad since he went out of his way to make you a hangover potion. You popped off the top and downed it. It started to kick in almost immediately, and you thanked Merlin for that.

After your shower, you got dressed, pulling on your robes that you specifically picked out to represent your Ravenclaw pride—a glistening blue cloak over darker blue attire. You applied light makeup and used a charm to dry and style your hair. Glancing at the clock, you realized it was time to head to your classroom. The students would be arriving soon, and you didn’t want to be late for the class you'd be teaching.

Leaving your quarters, you locked the door behind you and made your way through the corridor, passing the courtyard. As you turned the last corner, you suddenly ran straight into a familiar chest, bracing yourself with your hands. Instinctively, he grabbed your wrists. When your eyes met, a blush crept up your neck—you weren’t ready to talk to him yet. You hadn’t prepared what to say. Noticing some students eyeing you and whispering behind their hands, the two of you quickly stepped away from each other, your hands falling to your sides.

“Good morning,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I would’ve... thanks for that, by the way.” He hummed in response. After a long pause he tried to speak again.

“Y/n I-” you didn’t let him finish.

“I should get to class.” You hurried past him and ducked into your classroom. You felt bad for cutting him off, but you did not have the brain capacity to properly talk to him right now or take the rejection that he was surely going to give you. For now, you would focus on your class. You hadn’t had much time to give it your own personal flare, but you’d get to that eventually. There was a long dueling table in the middle and desks to the right and left; your desk sat at the front with a rolling blackboard behind it. Stepping up onto the raised platform that your desk sat on, you sat down in your chair and scratched out some rough notes on a piece of parchment. That’s when the first students started coming in.

After getting over the first day jitters, you actually enjoyed teaching far more than you thought you would. You let the kids show off some basic spell casting on the dueling table and could already tell the class was going to be a hit.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter please let me know!

Next: Part 3: Death Eater

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hello, oh my, damn... so english isn't my first language and i wasn't sure how to phrase it better so don't worry, i totally understand being uncomfortable and I'm sorry 😅

I did enjoy your version very much and i also think that you should definitely go for a crow reader cause that is such a cute idea!

- accidentally proposing anon

No problem! And since you're interested here's some very quick ideas I had about crow reader before I go to work today!

Alastor

Nothing phases this man anymore. Niffty literally gifted him a crown of dead roaches. So when you flutter excitedly and present him with a string of shiny can tabs, you've been collecting he accepts it graciously.

"You're quite right dear, these are incredibly colorful. Yes, very shiny are you sure you don't want to keep this? Oh! You made it for me? Well, aren't you just precious."

He makes it into a necklace or even something to decorate his horns.

Vox

Valentino likes light, you like shiny things, both of you tend to like being around screens and bright colors.

Except you don't just like screens, it's anything colorful or shiny. Actually sometimes it's not even that, its just random odds and ends that caught your attention for some reason. He gets it sometimes, textures, patterns, things like that.

But you have everything from soda can tabs to random buttons to rocks of various shapes, sizes, and colors. You have different sticks and pieces of wood you found that for some reason you then had to have. Pieces of mismatched jewelry. It's cute but it also clutters up space and he eventually designates one room for your stuff and tells you to keep it condensed. You do, and swear it's organized, but it's all just a jumbled mess to him.

He's in his lair, observing all the many different cameras, looking for some wannabe actress who owed him money, when you bounce in, barely stifling excited squaking. He sighs fondly and turns to you, knowing he's not going to be able to concentrate until he sees what you want to show him.

It's a collection of your molted feathers, the best ones, sleek and iridescent, bound together with some colorful twine you found and attached to it is a miniature glass jar filled with colorful, shiny bits of plastic, metal, and rock, and corked shut and sealed with hot glue.

It makes a nice rattle sound when he shakes it and the feathers are nice to pet and run his fingers over and..."Did you make me a fidget toy? From....random stuff you found? That's, that's actually really cute, thanks Doll."

He downplays how much he uses it, but it's literally on his key ring, so you know it goes everywhere with him and if during long meetings his staff are subjected to the consistent background noise of little shiny bits rattling around in a jar, then that's their problem.

Lucifer

As you may have noticed Lucifer also tends to collect things he has no need for. But he might need it one day! Between the two of you it does get to be a bit of a problem, so you both agree to sort through and condense your piles.

It takes days cuz you guys keep stopping to show each other cool stuff you guys have. Then, several more days just to get through his numerous rubber ducks. Eventually it's down to a single room where your collections have merged. Each item carefully chosen and presented to one another like expensive jewelry or other such luxurious things. But it's a cool rock you found, a giant bronze spring, a box full of candy wrappers with clever sayings, and a scrapbook with various brightly colored pieces of cardboard from snacks, toys, shoes, literally anything, that caught your eye.

It's anyone's guess on who adds what, but you do both have to agree on it before it's added so you don't hoard things again.

That's the end, but maybe I'll go back and add Adam and some of the other characters later. I just wanted to get my initial ideas down before work.

[justawrites]

(Wip/Sketch) The Resurrection of a Heretic

You can definitely tell I got really tired after the first few pages but! It's done! Kinda! Pencil and paper sketch but it's done!

It's 3:30 AM so I really need to sleep, but tomorrow I'll add a read-more page by page transcription bc I know my handwriting isn't the easiest thing to read. Heavily recommend viewing in a new tab lol.

Had the Lamb chosen ANY other godless than Wren, and done it any earlier than before Narinder married them, Narinder would have been pissed about this. And unfortunately for Wren, being resurrected while being godless leaves its marks.

Anyway, Lamb stop breaking the laws of Faith for five seconds challenge, level impossible

Transcription below the cut

PAGE 1

Lamb: WREN! Hi! Wren: Hello, Lamb. Lamb, falling back into the water: Baa! Wren: Lamb!

PAGE 2

Wren: You are really bad at getting out of that pond... Lamb: It's the fleece. It's heavy when wet. Wren: Maybe you should forego it when visiting here? Lamb: And not look cool? No way! Wren: Almost drowning in a pool in the spectral plane does not sound very "cool," but to each their own...

PAGE 3 (timeskip, after unseen conversation in which Lamb suggests resurrecting Wren)

Wren: I... am not sure that is a good idea, Lamb. I have been dead for a hundred years now. I am not sure I know how to live anymore. Lamb: It'll be okay- Narinder and I will help you.

Lamb: Since you're not one of my followers, I need your actual body. Wren, as a ghost in the living world: My children will kill you if they see you digging up my grave. Lamb: Don't worry- it's handled!

Elloi (Narinder and Wren's middle daughter, all grown up): Not that we do not appreciate the visit, but our Father is visiting with you...? Kallamar: HAHA I missed my nieces, of course! Kallamar, thinking to himself: You owe me, Lamb! (A small text points to Kallamar, reading " "handling" it")

Wren: I am not sure our brother-in-law is up to that task. My girls are sharp. Lamb, offscreen: I have faith in him. Wren: At least one of us does.

PAGE 4

Wren: Also, uh- a hundred years? My body is nothing but bones and shrouds. Oh, and my death mask... Lamb: That's fine, as long as they're your bones, it will work. Wren: Should... I be worried? Lamb: No, no! I've tested it! Wren: Okay, I'm worried. Lamb: Hey!

Wren: Did you just shove my skeleton in your Crown? Lamb: Well I'm not about to walk out with it in my arms. Your daughters would try to kill me then...

Lamb: Think they'll notice the grave is disturbed? Wren: Minuit visits every morning, so yes. Lamb: Hm. So I should finish this before morning. Wren: If I come back as a zombie, I will bite you. Lamb: Promise? Wren: Lamb! Lamb: I'm kidding!

Lamb: I will miss being able to visit you on a whim, though. Wren: ...

Wren: Well, knowing you, me being alive again will not stop you... Lamb: True. You'll never escape me. We're like- spouse-in-laws or something! Wren: ... Not how it works, but yes, I suppose.

PAGE 5

Lamb: Kallamar is distracting your daughters, but the others should give me enough devotion for this- you know, being gods and Witnesses. Wren: I do not know, no. Lamb: Should I invite Nari? Wren: He will recognize a godless shroud. He might not let you go through with it, if he knows. Not to mention my mask... Lamb: Good point... I'm sure he won't mind if we surprise him!

Lamb: Wait, can you teleport? Wren: I am attached to you right now, so I will be dragged with you. Lamb: Cool....

Wren: I will admit, I will miss floating around like this. Lamb: You'd prefer to stay as a ghost? Wren: Now I did not say that.

Wren: It would take a stronger man than I to pass up the chance to touch their husband again...

Lamb: Oh, I see where your mind is~ Wren: Hold on- get your mind out of the ditch!

Wren: Thank you for not just dropping my skeleton. Lamb: Well, that would be rude. Wren: Kind of like shoving it in a bag... Lamb: It wasn't a bag!

Lamb: I need to put a mark on your skeleton... preferably somewhere subtle. It'll still be visible when you're alive again- any preference? Wren: Not really? Just do not be... weird about it. Lamb: Your hand, then.

PAGE 6

Wren: That is a strange symbol. What is it? Lamb: A modification of an immortality symbol. For my followers, it keeps them from aging- but this version helps me reverse your death. I think it helps meld the body and soul? It's very different from resurrecting my followers...

Lamb: Took me 50 years to think of this... It would not work before that. Wren: You... have been trying to revive me for 50 years?

Lamb: Oh- should I remove your mask? Wren: I would rather not see my own skull. Lamb: You'll be smelling whatever's inside when you wake up if I don't. Wren: ... Yes, remove it please.

Small text pointing to a cloaked Heket and Leshy reads "can't see or hear Wren."

Lamb: Okay! Ready! Wren, just float above your body! Leshy, Heket, Shamura- Witnesses, around the circle.

PAGE 7

Wren: Oh this is weird. Huh...

PAGE 8

Wren, thinking: What do I... do? This feels...

Wren, thinking: strange. Narinder, thinking: Where has everyone gone-?

Narinder: What. Is that Lamb doing now.

PAGE 9

Wren, thinking: It... worked. Wait, how do I breathe-

Shamura, offscreen: Relax.

Shamura: Your body will breathe on its own. Just relax. My siblings and I have been where you are.

Wren, breathing out: Thank you...

PAGE 10

Lamb: It worked! yes! How are you feeling?

Wren: Like I need a bath. Desperately.

Leshy: And clean clothes I bet. Lamb: Yeah, death shrouds a hundred years old is probably not a great feel...

Lamb: Come on- let's get you cleaned up. Wren: Okay... thank you.

text pointing to Wren reads "first bath in 100 years"

Lamb: Quick question- were you... wanting to keep this? Wren: My death shroud?? No?? It is a hundred years old and decaying... Lamb: Just making sure before I burn it.

Wren: I do want to keep the mask, though. Lamb: Got it. text pointing to the Lamb and the shroud reads "sets on fire"

text above the tub Wren is in reads "dunks head"

PAGE 11

Narinder: Lamb, I need to spea- Lamb: NARINDER!

Narinder: Gah! Lamb: Don't come in! You'll ruin the surprise! Narinder: Why are you short-?

Narinder, offscreen: Lamb! We are married! I have seen you naked before! We have bathed together!

Lamb, offscreen: Sorry, Nari- this is a surprise for you, so- please, just wait downstairs? Narinder: Would this have something to do with that ritual from earlier? Lamb: ... Maybe. Narinder: Fine, I will be downstairs. In the library.

Lamb: Hey, got you some robes- Wren: LAMB! Privacy!! Lamb: Relax, you've got nothing I haven't seen before. Wren: I DO NOT CARE- Lamb: You're gonna ruin your hair drying it like that-

PAGE 12

Wren: If you put your symbol on me I will hit you. Lamb: Too late, it's already on your hand. Wren: I meant that triangle thing, actually. Lamb: Oh- don't worry, the robe is symbol-free.

Wren: So this is permanent? Lamb: yeah, sorry- in all my experiments, removing it did... weird things. Wren: How did you "experiment," anyway? Lamb: Let's not talk about that...

Lamb: I think I liked what you wore in the After better. Wren: Mm, but that was a bit... gravity-defying. Lamb: Bet I could figure it out...

Wren: Being alive feels so weird... Lamb: yeah, I get it.

PAGE 13

Narinder: There you are, Lamb. Now, what did you-

Wren: Hello again, love.

Narinder: Wren...? How...? Wren: The Lamb is stubborn.

Narinder: You died... You are godless... The Lamb should not have been able to... Wren: They would not take that as an answer.

Wren: Besides, you have done the impossible before, too.

PAGE 14

Lamb: Soo you're not mad that I went behind your back to revive a godless person?

Text reads "Grabs"

Narinder: Do not ever do that again. ... But no. I am not mad. This time.

Lamb: Well, if Wren died again, I make no promises... but no one else. Not many ghosts with bodies still around, anyway...

Narinder: You are the most stubborn god I know. Thank you...

[jinkoh]

now playing: deundeun man - super ultra man

jungwon x gn!reader

13th fic for my anniversary event | requested by anon

wc: 0.8k, older!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff

event masterlist | enhypen masterlist

Jungwon knows he can take good care of you, and he likes doing it, too. It doesn’t matter that you’re older than him, it shouldn’t matter, because he’s confident to stand by your side. He thinks it isn’t as easy for you, because at times he still feels like you have your guard up, trying to save face in front of him. Maybe it’s just a general tendency of bottling up your feelings, or maybe you think you need to handle everything by yourself just because there’s a few years between the two of you. Jungwon couldn’t disagree more; he doesn’t think showing weakness or needing comfort is tied to age and he doesn’t like that you’re holding back instead of letting yourself lean on him. But it’s difficult to get you out of your shell when you’re so keen on staying inside.

Jungwon asked you what’s wrong hours ago, but you’d insisted that you’re fine, that nothing is wrong. He notices, though. He sees the little signs of discomfort, like the way you keep biting your lip to the point he worries it might start bleeding, or the way you’re more quiet than usual, your responses short and dry. Your eyes are fixed on the plate in your hands, sponge scrubbing away under the running water almost violently, even though the plate has long been spotlessly clean. 

“Let me do it,” Jungwon says gently, coming up to you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. He feels you tensing up, but he doesn’t move away, not if you don’t tell him to.

“No, it’s fine,” you reply curtly but he can hear the strain in your voice, as if you’re desperately trying to keep it together. 

“It’s not fine.” He covers your hands with his own, making them stop in their movements, “It’s clearly not fine. So talk to me. Let’s find a solution together,” he continues gently as he pries the plate from your hand and rinses it under the water before putting it onto the rack and closing the tab.

“No, it’s—” you start again but your voice cracks, leaving your sentence unfinished. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures, “talk to me.” And then he feels the way you give in, releasing the tension in your shoulders and letting yourself crumble into his arms.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid. I just—,” you press out, dropping the sponge into the sink and fumbling to get off the rubber gloves, “it’s just been a really shit day.”

He lets out a soft hum so you know he is listening, encouraging you to go on.

“The whole week has been shit and then I come home and I—I don’t know.”

“No, tell me.”

“It just—it feels like there’s so much to do here too and I just don’t know how to keep up.”

Jungwon coaxes you to turn around in his arms to finally face him, but you keep your head down and avoid his gaze. “But you don’t have to do things here alone, you know that, right? I can take care of dinner or the dishes or whatever else.”

“You’re already doing so much, though. I should be able to do my part, too.”

“You’re doing your part just fine,” he lets his hands come up to rest on your cheeks, “It doesn’t always have to be a perfect fifty-fifty.”

 “It just—I feel like I should be able to handle these things. You’re doing it just fine too, and I’m…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it trail off but Jungwon doesn’t let it go unspoken.

“You’re what?”

“I’m older,” you press out in the smallest voice, “Shouldn’t I be more mature?”

“It’s not about maturity,” he replies calmly, “Reaching your limits and asking for help isn’t childish, it’s human.” His thumb brushes over your cheek gently, before he adds with a careful smile, “and even if it was, you can be childish with me.” 

You huff a little laugh, despite the tears burning in your eyes. “Why do you always know what to say?” 

Jungwon’s smile broadens into a cheeky grin, “Because I’m your super ultra man, of course. Your invincible hero.” You giggle at his silly antics and he just looks at you fondly. It feels unreal that he can make you laugh like that, and he’d consider it his super power, if he didn’t think that was already something else. 

“Want me to tell you my secret ability?” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Hm?” 

“When you’re happy, or when you’re angry, or when you’re sad—I know it all,” He’s more serious now, needing to make sure that you know he means it, “I already know it all, so there’s no need to hide it from me.” He pecks your forehead, “Don’t hide from me.” 

You bite your lower lip before you nod bashfully, “Okay.”

event masterlist | enhypen masterlist

[sluckythewizard]

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

 It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden   THUNK  of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a  gun shot  in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

 It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans,  offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more. 

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.  

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression. 

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face. 

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them. 

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now 

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda. 

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again… 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill. 

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again..  Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people.  All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

[puppetwoman17]

Ladies and gents, my first Billy Batson-centric fic! It’s called: The Batson Family Soap Opera: Ft. The Justice League

Here’s a snippet of the first chapter, already released on AO3 under the name SunShade878

In Study Room #1, Billy propped himself up on a chair and opened his laptop. The screen lit up the room, showing a half-finished Whiz Radio broadcast script. On another tab, Billy pulled up a bullet point list of topics to cover, and got to work.

He took bites out of the sandwich he got from the cafeteria as he worked. Looking from tab to tab, Billy paraphrased some of his talking points and left slots open throughout the script for a few brief questions.

He tapped a nail against the table when he paused after a commercial break slot and glanced at the time.

“Five minutes ‘til monitor duty,” he muttered. “Better close off for now.”

Not to say Billy was satisfied with his work, but he was proud of his clean punctuality record from his time with the League. It also translated to his reporter work, so that was a nice bonus. Now that he thought about it, Morris told him he could give Billy a small bonus if he turned everything in today…

Nope! He shook his head. Monitor duty now, Whiz work later.

Billy quickly packed his things and slotted his laptop in a cubby before making his way toward the monitor station. He checked the time on his watch, sighing in relief when he saw he was two minutes from the beginning of his two hour shift.

Okay, good.

He quickened his pace toward the familiar room, dutifully ignoring the concerned and curious looks on several familiar faces.

I swear, you’d think I was catatonic with the way these people look at me.

The monitor room had a large, imposing window that showed the expanse of space. It was something Billy could never get over, no matter how long he stared at it. Multiple screens were lit, showing various cities with superheroes of their own, helping children out of burning buildings and stopping robberies in progress.

A transparent hologram of Earth spun around slowly in the middle of the room. Graph lines went over and across each section of land and sea. Several small, red dots blinked green, and Billy smiled in satisfaction that they were doing good. He was doing good.

“Hey, Little B!”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Hey, Hal.”

Billy doesn’t have to turn around to see the Green Lantern’s cheeky grin as he sauntered into the room, power ring glowing emerald. “Ya seem tense, little man.” The grin faltered, revealing what Billy knew to be truer than the smile. “You okay?”

Now, you remember what Billy said about loving how protective the League was, right? And the thing is, he didn’t lie. He didn’t blame them for it, and he understood the need to protect people younger than you. Hell, he was well known enough in Fawcett for the younger street kids to know him by name. For them to know he knew all the best hiding spots and hoarding spots around the Cobbler District.

But sometimes it could just be so. Damn. Annoying.

“Oh, it’s just some last minute revisions for my broadcast tomorrow. Nothing major.”

“You remembered to eat, yeah?

Don’t roll your eyes, he’s not being condescending. “Took a sandwich from the canteen.”

“Cool, cool.”

Yeah, this was definitely one of those times where he felt coddled instead of protected. Now, maybe seven year old Billy, who’d just learned that he was now responsible for the wellbeing of an entire community and subcommunities of ethereal-infused life, would’ve loved the worry on Hal’s face.

Fourteen year old Billy, on the other hand, couldn’t help the queasy feeling in his stomach.

“Anyway, we should get started, huh?”

The whites of Hal’s domino mask widened. “Uh, yeah. Let’s.”

Billy mustered a small smile as he propped himself on one of the two chairs facing the screens. Hal flopped unceremoniously onto the other one, the smile on his face more prominent. Weird. Before, the smile seemed…dim, somehow.

Now, though, with the two of them looking through screens and chatting quietly as the hours ticked by, Hal’s nervousness and tenseness was chipped away, revealing the bumbling idiot Billy knew and cared for. The easy way with which they communicated was something Billy was thankful for. If anything, his identity reveal only strengthened their relationship.

It sort of felt like he was the reason for Hal’s better mood. But that was silly.

Right?

Tell me what you think on AO3!

[criminalmindswhore]

I am lost.

TW: alcohol abuse, general sadness, depression

This is gonna be a long one, I don't feel like making it into different parts

When you joined the BAU you were coming out of a pit of depression you didn't even know you were in. You didn't join in on jokes, go to Ross's for dinner, and rarely smiled. After a month or so you started to come out of your depression, finally feeling supported by those around you. Emily always made sure you had a full cup of coffee when she refilled hers. Reid always brought you a rock or something from his lunch break walks. Garcia would send you pictures of flowers after hard cases. Hotch even hugged you once. JJ became like an older sister to you. She was only a few years older than you but she became your main support. Emily and her went out of their way to make sure you three always shared a room on cases to make sure you slept and showered.

Recently you could feel the darkness creeping in on you again. You were working so hard to prove yourself to everyone, Strauss, Hotch, and most importantly your mom. The things that usually brought you joy, like running with Morgan, no longer brought you any joy. Morgan picked up on it when you started flaking on him most mornings. He would get a text at 3 a.m., "I'm not gonna make it to our run this morning, I think the takeout we got in Georgia isn't agreeing with me, sorry!" Reid noticed when you stopped bringing lunch to work, insisting you would eat a big dinner. You two always ate together after his walk, debriefing from the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy. He didn't like the show but he watched it to connect to you.

Emily noticed when you guys were in New York for a case. She texted you to let you know Hotch dismissed everyone for the night and she wanted to grab dinner with you. When you didn't answer by the time she got to the room she assumed you were in the shower, but the shower wasn't on. "Hey, have you seen Y/N?" JJ looked up from her book concerned, "No, she disappeared when we got back. I assumed she was meeting you or Morgan." Emily shook away the slight panic and picked up her phone and wallet. "I'm gonna go ask Morgan." JJ nodded, "Keep me updated." Emily nodded and bit her lip.

"No, she said she was gonna go grab a drink and head to bed." Morgan shrugged. Reid perked up behind him, "Is she okay? She's been acting weird." Emily sighed in their doorway, "I don't know. I'm gonna talk to her." Morgan smiled at her, "Just let me know if I need to do anything, princess." Emily took the comfort he was offering by using the pet name. She left their room and walked down to the hotel bar. Lo and behold there you were, sitting at the bar whiskey in hand looking empty. She sighed and walked over to you, taking her place on the stool next to you. You didn't acknowledge her just kept swirling your glass. "Y/N, what's going on?" She took the glass from your hands and asked the bartender for water. You sat up and looked at her offended, "Can I not just have a drink after a long day of tracking down this psycho?" Your tone was straight and a little mean. Emily knew the anger wasn't directed at her and her gaze softened seeing the bags under your eyes. "Y/N you need to talk to me," her tone was soft and gentle. "I don't know what to tell you, Emily. I'm fine, if you don't trust me to have a drink alone maybe you should check yourself." You snatched the glass off the bartop and shot it back, drinking it all in one go. Emily took a deep breath, "Everyone is worried about you. Your regressing back into the person we met when you joined the team. We study behavior for a living Y/N/N." You glared at her, "You all profiled me?" The bartender set down water and slid your tab over to you, exposing how much you've drank. Emily took notice of the 8 whiskeys on your tab and how you left a way too high tip. "Drink the water." Emily's tone was stern and you knew she wouldn't let you leave until you drank it all. The water was cold and kept the burning anger from taking over. "Emily I'm fine." You were completely dejected from her, not even looking at her now.

"That's a lie." Emily was not going to give it up tonight and you knew it. "Either you tell me, or I go to Hotch right now." There was too long of a pause and Emily went to stand. You grabbed her hand, "Fine, just don't get Hotch, please. Being taken off this case would make things so much worse." She sat back down and held onto your hand. You took a deep breath. Everything in you screamed not to tell her, to shut her out, but the look in her eyes pulled all your walls down. "My depression has been bad again and I've been drinking a lot. I've never drunk on the job or been intoxicated at work. I just needed something to make me less numb. I feel so empty all the time except when I'm at work or with you." Emily could see the pain in your eyes, "I think I slept with the director's daughter too but I don't remember. Obviously, it didn't help. It honestly made it worse because it solidified something I've been fighting for months." Emily's heart broke slightly hearing you slept with someone but she shoved it away. "Y/N you could've come to me or JJ or anyone. You are not a burden to us and we want you happy and healthy. Even if it means late-night talks or teary phone calls. We are here for you, don't shove us out. Do you know what triggered this?" You nodded sadly, gripping her hand tighter, "Hotch rejected three of my reports because I didn't write them properly one night when I was on hour 45 with no sleep. It sent me down a spiral of proving myself and overworking." Emily smiled at you, "Y/N, that happens to all of us, it doesn't make you any less of a good agent." You laughed, "Yeah logically, but my brain doesn't think logically when it comes to me. I can think logically about everyone else's issues, but never my own." Emily grabbed your chin and made you look at her, "You have nothing to prove, we all know you're amazing at this job. Y/N you need to get help with this beautiful brain of yours." She smiled sadly at you. Tears started slipping from your eyes, your drunken brain not realizing you were crying. She wiped a tear from your cheek, "Let's go to bed, and we game plan tomorrow okay?" You nodded at her.

She pulled you from your seat, never letting go of your hand. She took the time in the elevator to send Morgan a text, 'I got her. She's okay. Talk more in the morning.' You were swaying to the elevator music, feeling lighter now that you've told someone you were struggling. "You're gonna fall over." Emily laughed at your drunken state, and you shook your head. "Em, I got this." Just as the elevator stopped you slipped and she caught you by the waist. The closeness of your faces took you both back. Your breath hitched which didn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired beauty. You stood up and cleared your throat, Emily smiled to herself. You were so beautiful to her in every way. Even in all the darkness that swam in your eyes, she could see the goofy girl you were inside. She opened the room door for you and JJ perked up, "Y/N! I missed you! Wanna cuddle?" You laughed at her and pulled PJs from your bag. "Let me change first and then all 3 of us can lay together?" Your voice slurring was all she needed to know. While attempting to take your shirt off you almost toppled over. "Here let me help you Y/N." Emily grabbed the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to consent. You nodded and just stared at her face while she took off your shirt and helped you change. She was the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. After you were changed you wiggled into bed between Em and JJ. You turned on a movie but immediately fell asleep holding Emily like a teddy bear. JJ smiled at you, "Is she slipping again?" She asked, not really wanting to know the truth. "Yeah, she was 7 deep when I got there. She told me everything. She slept with the director's daughter." JJ grimaced and Emily had a look of horror on her face. "You told her yet?" JJ had a childlike excitement on her face, Emily giggled shaking her head, "Not yet, not while she's vulnerable like this. Soon though once we get our girl through this." JJ smiled, she genuinely loved the idea of her two best friends being together. Emily told her about her crush on you immediately encouraging her to tell you.

Emily came over when you got back from New York and helped you clear out the many, many, empty bottles of alcohol you had collected. "Y/N, this is a little absurd, I counted 4 bottles in the bathroom alone." You toyed with the hem of your slacks, "Yeah if you buy in bulk at the store on 34th street it's cheaper." A month later you felt like yourself again. Emily spent the night a lot when you felt dark, she would hold you while you cried and would make sure you ate. Morgan would start showing up at your apartment for runs instead of meeting, forcing you out of bed. JJ started sending you home with notes and drawings from the boys. Reid bought you a few crystals that he swears work with depression.

One night you, JJ, Garcia, and Emily were at your apartment watching movies and building a Lego set of a piano. It was getting late so you wished JJ and Garcia a good night before returning to Emily on the couch. You sat beside her and looked at her. She looked at you from her phone and saw tears forming in your eyes. She immediately set her phone down and grabbed your hands, "Hey, what's wrong?" She looked concerned, ready to jump into action, and then you smiled. "I just feel so loved and it's a new feeling for me. The whole team has done so much for me this month to help me. I just feel so much better and I can't thank you guys enough." Emily felt tears in her eyes, she was so happy you felt loved and better. "Y/N, we would give the world for you. At least I know I would." You turned to face her on the couch, now crisscross apple sauce. "Emily, thank you." You pressed a simple kiss on her cheek. She relished in the feeling, her cheeks turning bright red. You gaped at her, "Miss Prentiss are you blushing?" She closed her eyes and winced, "Yeah?" You cackled, "You're being so soft right now, who are you?" She opened her eyes and stared directly into yours, now was the right moment. You were stable, one month sober, and making jokes again.

"I'm a woman in love with you."

Your heart exploded, she loved you. Before you had time to think you cupped her face and kissed her. Her hands went to your waist. Your lips felt exactly as she imagined they would, soft, and plump and you tasted like strawberry lip balm. You pulled away but kept her face close, "Emily Prentiss, I love you." She smiled and a tear slipped down her cheek. At that moment, foreheads touching, the pieces of your life snapped into place. Her fingers traced patterns on your hips, her soft face in your hands.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

ARE YOU KIDDING?? PLATONIC YANDERE BATTINSON HEADCANNONS PULEASE 💕 💕

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒…

!!! GN reader, stalking, breaking and entering, hidden cameras, kidnapping, I feel really bad for Alfred…

Sorry if this is egregiously long and disorderly, I just have a lot of ideas with this one.

There’s a possibility the two of you barely know each other. Maybe you’re a worker at Wayne Enteprises, or just a stranger on the street who did a kind gesture to him once. He’s the type to get a friend-crush — where he wants to be your friend, but he’s too shy to actually talk to you — so naturally the next logical step is to follow you around all day to figure out where you live. This would honestly be the longest Bruce Wayne has ever been out in public during the daytime, granted in his Chevy Corvette.

(Alfred would probably start to get worried, seeing as Bruce always tries to return to the mansion as quickly as possible.)

I don’t think it would surprise anyone to know this man is a heavy stalker. He knows virtually everything about you, from your social security number to how often you brush your teeth. His journal even has a diagram of every freckle and blemish he knows about on your body, just in case he needs to identify your remains some day (he has a very grim outlook on the fate of everyone who enters his life). I’d like to imagine him having a separate journal for you, just to keep tabs on how you’re doing.

Hidden cameras around your house are a must. With his nightly obligations as The Batman, he unfortunately can’t stop by your window to make sure you’re safe as often as he’d want to, so he finds himself remotely checking in on you more than being there in person. If it makes you feel any better, he has the same exact set-up in Alfred’s room. It just makes him feel more at ease to have quick visual access to two of the most important people to him in his life.

Naturally, in order to install these cameras, he’d have to break into your house when you’re not there. This would turn into something he does on the regular, possibly even while you sleep. I at first felt like he may take a few keepsakes from your house as he does this, but I think it’s more likely he’d leave things behind for you instead. Maybe a generous amount of cash, new appliances to replace broken ones, refills of food you were running low on… who knew that The Batman was like the tooth fairy?

God, I have so many ideas, but a lot of them actually focus on Alfred. Bruce is the type to kidnap his new “friend” very early on, driving by his fear and anxiety of something happening to you. He’d obviously see nothing wrong with this; I mean, the guy stalks you and breaks into your hours, why the hell would this be out of the question? So, that got me thinking… how would Alfred react to this?

I wish I had a clear answer… but, again, I have so many ideas, and it’s hard to put fully flesh them out in a clear and concise way. But I’ll try to give you the bare bones, and possibly clarify should there be a follow-up ask.

Idea 1.) Bruce actually tells Alfred he kidnapped you. Well, maybe he’d say something more on the lines of, “I had to save them, I had no other choice,” but Alfred’s a smart man who easily reads between the lines. Hell, maybe Alfred’s had his suspicions for the longest time, walking in on Bruce watching your security feed or discovering his separate journal about you, but the butler tried to rationalize this, as he didn’t want to believe his young master was up to… whatever this weird shit was.

(I can actually see him confronting Bruce about his behaviors a couple of times, and even considering bringing this up to a professional, but that’s beside the point.)

Anyways, back to Bruce holding your unconscious form in his arms. He’d ask Alfred if a room could be prepared for you, his tone eerily casual considering the situation, and the poor butler has to put on his best calm act and convince Bruce to take you back home. While I don’t see him getting through to Bruce, there’s a small chance that he does, and you wake up in your own bed the next morning blissfully ignorant to your own almost-successful kidnapping (all thanks to the butler).

(Now I’m thinking about Bruce holding you up to Alfred like, “can we keep them??” And Alfred has to be like, “no, Master Bruce. Put them back where you got them from.”)

From here on, Alfred decides to try and herd Bruce’s strange obsession with you on his own, too scared to get professional help involved. There’s no way in hell he’s getting his young master taken away from him; not after he vowed to keep him safe to the late Thomas and Martha Wayne. And besides, Alfred did manage to convince Bruce to take you home in the end, so surely that means there’s still hope, right? He hasn’t failed his responsibility just yet…

Of course, as I said before, I don’t see Alfred getting through to Bruce in the end. It’s hard to say what Alfred would even do at this point. Maybe he threatens to call the authorities, which would hurt Bruce enough to feel the need to run away. This would start a huge manhunt for “the runaway billionaire” who “snapped under all the stress” (Alfred made sure to neglect telling police about him also being a kidnapper, instead framing it as though Bruce was going through some sort of mental breakdown).

Don’t even get me started on how confusing this would be for you, LMAO. Imagine going to sleep one night, only to wake up in some sort of abandoned apartment complex with Bruce Wayne of all people. That sounds like a fun story to write, not gonna lie.

Idea 2.) Bruce doesn’t say anything to Alfred and instead keeps you in one of the spare bedrooms. It doesn’t take long for the butler to stumble upon you, narrowly missing the lamp you swing at him as you make your escape. Since you aren’t familiar with the mansion’s layout, however, you find yourself aimlessly running through the halls, and eventually into the chest of a confused Bruce Wayne, who just came out of the Batcave. As Bruce practically drags you back to your room, he runs into a disheveled Alfred, who obviously wants an explanation.

“This is my friend,” Bruce simply answers, a hint of fondness in his gruff voice. “I had to save them, so I brought them back here.”

Now, as I said previously, Alfred probably has had his suspicions for the longest time. So seeing you trying desperately to weasel out of Bruce’s grip mad him realize what his young master had really done. Like with the first idea, Alfred will try to calmly explain why this was wrong, making eye contact with your pleading gaze. But I think this conversation would go south quicker, since Bruce is much less willing to give you up now that you’re settled in. I can see him starting to tear up cuz yandere Battison is lowkey a manchild, I don’t make the rules, begging Alfred to let you stay.

This is the route where Alfred might feel it’s better to comply, at least temporarily. You’re a live hostage in this situation, and the stress of that is too much to make a definitive decision in the moment… and it doesn’t help that Bruce was starting to get erratic. So, he hesitantly relents, trying to ignore the hurt look in your eyes as you’re dragged back to your room.

Remember, this is only a temporary solution. Alfred could never live with the idea of Bruce doing this, and I can see him continuing to do his very best to convince his young master to let you go. Perhaps he may have to take matters into his own hands, helping you escape behind Bruce’s back…

Idea 3.) I’m keeping this one short and sweet; what if Alfred is just as much as a hostage as you are? Remember that Bruce cares just as much for his butler as he does for you, so it’s highly likely that he never lets Alfred leave the mansion either…

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Right where you left me

Title from Taylor Swift‘s song Right where you left me🫧

Leon Kennedy x gn! Reader

summary: After breaking up with Leon you never visited the café you guys used to have y‘alls date. What happens when you decide to buy a coffee und see him sitting in the corner you guys used to sit?

Warning: other than heartbreaking and seeing Leon sitting alone and looking at his coffee, none.

not my gif!

It‘s been five months since you and Leon broke up. It was because you guys were having problems with communicating and it got so worse you just had to leave. A part of you hated you because you left the man you truly love but the other part of you is proud of you because for the first time you put yourself first. You told Leon to find you when he is ready to start a new relationship after seeing a therapist. You even gave him the number of a very good therapist in town which your best friend is also visiting.

And now… You’re standing in front of the cafe Leon and you would have your regular date. Every Tuesday at 3 pm. You would sit there for hours and drink y‘alls coffee while enjoying each other’s presence. There were times where none of you would talk. Just looking at each other like some Teenagers. And now… everything is gone.

But you’re really craving for some good coffee after having the most exhausting day at work. You get in without thinking any further and make your way to the cashier.

“Hey! What can I get for you?” the orange haired woman asks you with a kind smile. You feel like you‘ve seen her somewhere but you can’t figure out from where. “Hey. I‘d like to have a double espresso to go.” you tell her. She tabs on the iPad and looks at you again. “Would you like to pay with cash or card?” she asks you and you hand her the cash with tip with a smile “with cash and the rest is tip.”

She smiles and before she goes to make your order she stops and turns to you leaving you a bit confused. “I have a question.” Now you’re curious. What might her question be? You tilt your head and your eyebrows furrow. “Yes?” you answer. “This might be a weird thing to ask but… did you and your boyfriend break up? Because I didn’t see you guys here in a long time. It was kinda sad not seeing you guys sitting at your regular place with your regular drink. We Were a bit worried since you guys were the locals.” Oh? Of course this was gonna happen. You gulp really loudly and your face sadden. The cashier notices your face change real quick and adds “I- uh I- didn’t really mean to uh… you know. It wasn’t my intention to bring up memories. I‘m really sorry if I hurt you” you can feel the woman being worried about accidentally hurting you and quickly shake your head. “No it’s okay. We are just… yeah we broke up” you whisper the last sentence. It feels like someone is stabbing your heart. Maybe stabbing you won’t hurt you as much as your heart hurts right now. “I‘m sorry to hear that. You guys were so cute. Anyways… before I leave to make your order…uh- He is sitting at your regular place. You know in the corner right back. He never stopped coming here” she tells me before leaving.

He never stopped coming here?

Is it really just for the coffee? A part of you hopes that he still comes here because of you, hoping to see you.

Curiosity wins and you step to the side a bit, trying to get a look at the back of the caffe.

And she was right. He is sitting there, all alone and looking at the coffee. The coffee you always ordered when you were having your dates with him. But you thought that he would never in a million years would drink that. But here he is, drinking it. You can’t figure out how he might feel because his face doesn’t hold any emotions. Should you go and say hi to him? Would that be awkward?

“Here is your order. Have a great day!” the woman says while handing you your coffee. You thank her and take your drink.

And now you’re standing there. Wondering if you should go and say hi.

You want to run to him and kiss him for as long as you can. You want to run to him and hug him and confess that you missed him so much. You want him to know that you spend days crying because you felt bad for leaving him with an opening ending. But you also just want to leave and not look back.

But somehow you feel like your feet is acting on their own and now you’re walking towards him. “I thought you would never drink that?” you speak and he flinches. He turns his head to you and you see how his face lights up. Immediately, he jumps up from his seat and looks at you. “Y/N? Oh my god. Hey!” his voice is still deep and so damn sexy. You remember how he used to praise you with this voice while he was-

Snap out of it.

“Hi Leon. How are you?” you ask him and give him a genuine smile. The corner of his lips curl a bit and you could bet he was trying to hide a smile. Also, you notice that he is pretty nervous because his hands are doing everything but standing still next to him.

“I‘m good. Yeah. Uh…. how are you?” he asks you back. “I‘m good thanks. But since when are you drinking my regular drink?” you ask him and you can feel him getting even more nervous. “Actually it still tastes like shit. I… I honestly don’t know” he stutters. If it still tastes like shit than why is he drinking it? You don’t get the point.

But you decided to not push the topic further as you realize that this question made him pretty nervous because now he started to swing with his body. You guys stay silent for a solid minute before it gets any more awkward you decide to break the silence.

“Okay… Than I should probably get going. Bye Leon” As you were about to turn around you can feel his huge hands wrap around your wrist and stopping you from leaving. Before you can ask hin what’s wrong he interrupts you.

“I really missed you Y/N. Home doesn’t feel like home since you left.” he starts confessing. His voice is heavy, you can hear it. “ I’m going to a therapist and I‘m actually doing great. I‘m making progress. I don’t know why I‘m telling you this. Maybe because I just wanted to you know.”

He did in fact went to see a therapist. Not only because of you but also because of himself. He realized how much he was hurting you without even knowing. He also didn’t realize that he was hurting himself. So he decided to take help from someone professional.

“I didn’t talk to other woman. I mean yes I talked to them but not in that way. I kept rejecting them and told every single one of them that I‘m seeing someone. I want you to know that I still love you. And I think I will love you until I take my last breath. My heart will continue to beat for you until it stops beating. ” now you can feel a tear escaping your eye. It feels like someone is putting weight on your heart. It’s too heavy and your heart can’t take that.

“But please don’t feel bad for leaving me. Actually, I‘m kinda glad you did. Because now I‘m healing and I can be the man you truly deserve. I was being serious about us marrying. And I was about to come and find you again. Asking you for another chance. So please Y/N, can I take you out on a date? Just to talk. Because right now I don’t look good and I want us to have more time to talk.”

His little speech kinda touched you. He did really change. He is changing and he is healing. That’s what you always wanted for him. Not thinking too long you nod and it makes him happy. You can see his smile brighter than the sun.

“Next Tuesday, at 3 pm, here?” he asks you.

“Okay” you agree.