#I think of little else but Will and Hannibal slowly turning into one person

[newvision]

Hannibal (2013-2015) // Kyuin Shim // Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights // Hannibal (2013-2015) // Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

[calmcoldevening]

Hiii I love your writing could I maybe request some slashers with a s/o who has insomnia

(Add rz Michael and Bubba please

You can add other slashers to)

Oh kitten, thank you for your request ♡︎ I hope it could make you feel better and help to sleep. These boys are all for you

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Slashers with s/o who has insomnia

Characters: Michael Myers (RZ), Bubba Sawyer, Hannibal Lecter, Mark Hoffman

Warnings: mention of cannibalism (just a little, because it's Bubba), insomnia, just problems with sleep, but I tried to make it hurt/comfort

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspells

Michael Myers

• Expressing emotions towards another person is clearly not Michael's strong point. But when it comes to you... It's something else.

• At first, he didn't pay much attention to your condition, or rather, he just didn't know yet that such apathy and nervousness is something bad. Michael just thought he wasn't used to you yet.

• But still something made him think about it.

• As soon as Michael got used to physical contact, he literally began to feel a hunger for touch. He wanted to touch you, hug you and just feel your tender skin on his rough one. A man slept with you. When he was sure that you were deep asleep and would not notice it, he pressed his huge body against yours like a frightened kitten. He was desperately clutching the fabric of your pajamas, sinking into a restless sleep.

• But that has changed now. You went to bed late, if you went to bed at all, and sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night. Now Michael was falling asleep without your little figure next to him. It was like this.. alien and unpleasant.

• It seemed eerily wrong. You spent less time with him and seemed to be flying in your thoughts all the time, although in fact your body was just trying not to switch off due to lack of sleep. Michael became more aggressive and killed his victims with greater brutality.

• But as soon as the usual veil of anger fell away, and his pitch-black eyes turned soft blue again, Michael noticed in your gaze.. sadness? despair? His heart squeezed a little. Then he really thought about your condition. It probably happened a month after your days became more frequent with insomnia. And he really didn't know what to do.

• But Michael is a smart boy, he found a way out. How easy it was to watch old Loomis for a few days, who, probably because of his work, often experienced insomnia. How to solve this problem? Michael watched the man through the window. Pills? Michael hates pills, and he doesn't want you to become addicted to them in any way. Doctor's visit? Michael wouldn't really want you to have contact with another person, especially if it's a man. Just thinking about it made Michael's heart ache.

• But how does he cope with stress himself? Now he takes out all his accumulated anger and emotions in murders. A knife in his hand and someone else's blood on it cause a man a pleasant wave of trembling. But you can't kill. No, he will never allow you, his fragile flower, to get your soft, tender hands in someone else's vile blood and flesh.

• Although as a child, when he was sad or bad, Michael ate candy... Indeed, sweets. Perhaps it is sweets that will help you cope with stress. It seems that chocolate causes the production of serotonin?

• You were sitting in the bedroom and reading a book, or rather, trying to. Everything was in a fog in my head, and the letters occasionally floated before my eyes, but as soon as your head touched the pillow, drowsiness immediately disappeared, as if it had never existed. Flipping through the next page, you look up and notice the giant figure of your boyfriend in the doorway. Surprisingly, he is wearing his still clean overalls and an orange papier-mache mask. Dirty blonde hair falls gracefully over his broad shoulders. You can't read his stoic expression, but you can see him hiding something behind his back. When you finally pay attention to him, Michael starts walking slowly in your direction. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress will crumple under his weight. Next to your side, he puts a bag with a lot of sweets, and he grabs your legs and climbs between them. The man gently squeezes your hips and puts his head on your lower abdomen, gently rubbing his nose against your skin through your clothes. Like a kitten. Michael was not a fan of soulful conversations, so he preferred actions and touches. You glance briefly at the package and notice inside, in addition to sweets, a small note. Clumsy and a little sloppy, as if written in a child's handwriting: "Hug me if you can't sleep. I'm near."You smile, and your heartbeat quickens. You gently touch Michael's tangled hair with your fingers, starting to slowly stroke them. It's relaxing. I could swear that a long purr is coming from the chest of this giant.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba started to worry a lot when he found out about your insomnia. He begins to take care of you and shield you from stress in every possible way.

• When the Sawyers need to deal with uninvited guests, you are usually sent for a short walk with one of the brothers so that you don't worry about strong screams. Or you're just out in the backyard enjoying a warm Texas day.

• Bubba gives you a lot of hugs. Very much. At night, he does not let you out of his arms, fearing that something might happen to you. He is very attentive. A man always makes sure that when you go to bed, the room is cool and dark, and the sheets are soft and pleasant to sleep on.

• Before going to bed, you definitely take a walk in the garden. Even if he is tired, Bubba will still sit with you on the grass, admiring the stars and gently squeezing your little neat hand. He values you very much.

• Bubba will also try to give you lighter food. No hard-to-digest human meat and barbecue, just fruits and vegetables.

• By nature a gentle and simple person, Bubba will give you a mug of warm milk before going to bed. They always gave it to him when he was little, and he fell asleep quickly.

• When the two of you go to bed, Bubba cuddles you to her, making soothing sounds and mumbling like a lost puppy. He clings to you and tries to show you all his love and comfort.

• Bubba has big and strong hands. So in the evenings, about two or three times a week, he gives you a relaxing massage. Trust me, he does it like a real professional. These hardened by long years of hard work can do a lot.

• Bubba will try to talk about your problem with Drayton. Bubba really wants to help you. Even if it means you have to leave him. Bubba will try to persuade Drayton to take you to the city to see a doctor. He loves you so much, his sunshine, the man doesn't want you to suffer.

Hannibal Lecter

• You periodically had trouble sleeping, but you didn't want to bother the Lecturer with this. After all, he has enough problems of his own, besides, he is a psychiatrist and deals with the problems of his patients, he does not need to worry about you once again.

• So you thought when another sleepless night came.

• You were quietly sitting on the windowsill in the bedroom and listening to music. Hannibal, as always, lingered in the office, so you were completely immersed in your thoughts. The light melody somehow reduced the unpleasant heaviness of your head. It seems that you wanted to sleep, but at the same time, your brain did not want to turn off in any way. There was a strange emptiness inside.

• Being in your thoughts, you didn't notice how a big but gentle hand touched your shoulder. Lifting your head up, your eyes instantly met his — bottomless and dark, like thick blood. The man's eyebrows moved slightly to the bridge of his nose, and he gave you a quick glance from the bottom up.

• "Why aren't you sleeping?" His gaze slid to his wristwatch, "It's one o'clock in the morning, dear."

• The answer was only your empty, uncertain look. The man instantly connected the dots, sighing heavily. "Insomnia?" A slight nod. Hannibal gently touches your chin with his fingers, stroking the skin and leaning his forehead against yours. "You should have told me earlier, honey. I'm a psychiatrist."

• After a couple of minutes, your tired body was already peacefully resting in Hannibal's arms. He carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub and slowly starting to draw hot water. The man added a little lavender oil and a nice soft bubble bath. As soon as your body touched the cherished warmth, a blissful sigh escaped from your chest. A smile touched Hannibal's lips.

• "That's it dear. Close those beautiful eyes of yours," he almost sang in his sweet, slightly hoarse voice as he sat down on the side of the tub. He rolled up his sleeves and took some shampoo, starting to wash your hair. His movements are precise, gentle, soothing. Your eyes slowly close, as if filled with lead, and your heart begins to beat in a calmer rhythm. It was so sweet of him. This man knows exactly what he's doing. A little later, he massages your shoulders and neck, relaxing the muscles tense after long sleepless nights. The subtle scent of lavender and his firm hands created a pleasant duet in your mind, starting to slowly put you to sleep. It's as if in one moment all that stress disappeared from your soul, being replaced by a clear lack of sleep.

• "That's it, honey. Let me take care of my love."

• After a while, Hannibal will help you get out of the bath and put on clean pajamas consisting of your favorite shorts and his loose shirt. He knows that his things make you feel comfortable and safe.

• Under his careful guidance, you will slowly return to bed. Cool sheets on your hot skin after a bath now seem like a real paradise. Sleep begins to slowly take over your mind as Hannibal's arms gently wrap around your smaller body.

• "Sweet dreams, darling."

Mark Hoffman

• Mark knew well what it meant to have trouble sleeping. Because of all his work and the Designer, he was often stressed and could not sleep peacefully.

• So when he noticed you had insomnia, it really started to worry him. Not to say that Mark was a very gentle and kind partner, but he tries. Therefore, first of all, Mark will certainly take you to the doctor and use any possible method of treating your insomnia, no matter if it is a special massage or medications.

• In addition, Mark knows that, first of all, insomnia occurs against a background of great stress and excitement. Therefore, he will try to give you maximum support. A man will try to do most of the housework, not allowing you not to overwork. He will do his best to give you support, both physical and emotional.

• Every evening certainly ends with a warm hug. You know, in his big hands you will really feel loved and safe. You can sit in the living room and watch some quiet movie. Or you will just lie together in the bedroom: there is a subdued light around, the moon shines softly through the window, gently tracing his rough features with a milky white light; you lie wrapped in a soft blanket in his arms, Mark's head rests on top of your head. You can talk about the past day or just be silent, enjoying each other's company. After a while, he will begin to gently hum some kind of lullaby, from which you will wearily close your eyes. In his hands, you have nothing to worry about. He will always be with you, no matter what.

• "I promise you that it's going to be okay, we will get through this together."

• Often your evenings can end with a mug of hot herbal tea. Warm drinks are always soothing, so he can try.

• You may notice one more detail. When you try to fall asleep with him, he deliberately presses you closer to him. His shirt smells like lavender. The delicate scent of the flower pleasantly tickles your nose, causing a smile. Surprisingly, your brain calms down, you begin to feel sleepy. Mark specially bought a new lavender laundry conditioner, knowing that it could help you calm down.

• Every day he will constantly remind you how important you are to him. If he leaves for work before you, he leaves different stickers with inscriptions all over the house. On the refrigerator, on the bathroom mirror, on the bedside table. "It's not your fault you have insomnia, baby. You're important to me. I love you very much. You're doing enough. I'm proud of you." While at work, he often sends you cute messages and pictures. And although he himself is not strong in such things as romance, the fact that he sees your smile encourages him to try even harder.

• Mark buys you big stuffed animals so you have someone to cuddle with while he's at work. There are also lots of milkshakes in the fridge now, and there are different teas in the cupboard to help you relax. And although he tries not to give you a lot of sweets, he buys your favorite fruits and nuts to adjust your nutrition.

• He really cares and cares about you. Mark will try to do everything in his power to help you, dear.

[thvshusband]

random nsfw and sfw headcannons !! :D

including: bubba sawyer, patrick bateman, and hannibal lecter

warnings for- mention of cannibalism, murder. nsfw, minors dni obviously

A/N: i’m trying out writing for hannibal, hopefully it works out! also i’m currently writing two fics right now, and i’ll post them hopefully this saturday! :D

bubba sawyer- nsfw !

loves loves loves when you sit on his face

when you’re affectionate to her during sex (i.e saying how pretty she is, saying “i love you”, etc) makes her flustered and she babbles reciprocated feelings for you happily

it took them about three months into you guys being intimate to stop wearing masks during sex. they were super insecure and worried that you would think they’re ugly. but when you didn’t, they were simply overjoyed and felt more confident around you.

he’s very vocal during sex- moans, yelling, and happy babbling are just a few things he does to show how good you make him feel. 

when you’re giving her a blowjob, she likes it sloppy and slow. her watching you take her whole length in your mouth while slowly bobbing your head up and down turns her on so so so so much.

bubba sawyer- sfw !

they love swinging on the porch with you, especially at night

he loves showering you with kisses and giving you bear hugs no matter what you’re doing.

her favorite part of bedtime is the fact she gets to cuddle with you and fall asleep together

the moment you guys met, they thought about marrying you

if you guys have/want kids, he wants to name your daughter after his mom

if you leave the house and you both have a phone (modern version of tcm!) she’ll update you about every little thing that happens through her day that makes her happy

patrick bateman- nsfw !

definitely very cocky in bed, he’s extremely proud of his dick and his extremely toned and muscular body

if he’s in love with you, during special occasions such as your birthday or anniversary he’ll be more gentle while fucking you and may even tell you he loves you

he love hearing/watching you choke on his long dick when he’s throatfucking him

if you’re lucky, he’ll tell you you’re doing a good job or you look pretty

if he’s horny (and in love), he seldom touches himself. instead, he goes to you if you’re available/in the apartment with him and has sex with you instead.

patrick bateman- sfw !

he secretly loves physical affection, but pretends not to because he doesn’t want to seem like he’s a softie

cuddling with you after a long day is the easiest way for him to rewind (when he’s not mad, of course)

after meeting you, he had no desire to cheat on you. he never loved evelyn, but he sure as hell loves you.

he loves watching anime with you, his favorite is sailor moon

he takes off of work on the weekends (friday-sunday) just so he can spend extra time with you.

hannibal lecter- nsfw !

hannibal going down on you is such a big turn on for him because it’s almost like he’s eating you, literally.

he loves punishing you, especially spanking

he loves being referred to as “sir” and calling you “bitch”, “precious one”, “lovely”, “princess”, and “good girl”.

fucking in public gets him so aroused. he loves the fact that he can get caught at any second, not getting caught killing of course.

you wearing lace or silk is the hottest thing you could wear. even a silk slip under a skirt or dress turns him on to the max.

hannibal lecter- sfw !

he wouldn’t kill or eat anyone that looked like you- he doesn’t want anyone else, but the actual person

if you found out about him being a cannibal, it would be the end of the world to him as he wouldn’t know if you would leave him or not

he would try to nudge you into being a psychologist. but if you already are, he insists on you working with him

he loves cuddling you- you’re the golden retriever to his black cat

he would always look his best around you and for you. he knows you expect nothing less of him

[babesonly]

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids​ purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny. 

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

--

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean 

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease 

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

Or

An ethics lesson from Hell

Or

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good 

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

--

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

--

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want? 

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god. 

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

[teddy06writes]

The Phantom Of The Opera AU

requested by this anon: “Okay so I know you’re a musical kid so you have probably listened to/heard of Phantom of the Opera. Picture this: Dream as the Phamtom x Fem!reader as Christine x Sapnap as Raul”

Dream x Fem!reader and Sapnap x fem!reader (with dream as the phantom and sapnap as Raul)

trigger warnings: death, dream being a low key creeper, maybe some swears, my general lack of knowledge of this musical

premise: Phantom AU, not neccicarily the full story, its mainly what I’ve seen/read/listened to that I think is important, and like eight of the songs. Ummm, I feel like the summary above is enough for you to get the general idea.

(y/l/n)- your last name

“blep” regular talking

“Belp” singing

When things are in counterpoint, regular text will be (y/n), (text in parenthesis is sapnap), and {bracketed text is Dream}

if you, like me are unfamilliar with the story, this is the summary that arrived in my inbox last night (thank you so much to the person who sent that by the way, it really helped)  

“So basically phantom of the opera is a love triangle between 3 people, the Phantom (P) x Christine (C) x Raul (R). C and R were childhood friends until R had to move away. C grew up in the Opera house with her dad (deceased) as a music writer. C grows up getting “private” singing lessons from P ( he is literally talking to her through a vent ((Among Us omg)) or something idk). Fast forward into the future to present day. C is a ballerina at the opera and one day, the phantom makes the set malfunction so that the lead female opera singer (she’s a jerk. Forgot her name) can’t preform and C has to preform as the lead instead. Coincidentally, the night Christine sings as the lead is the day R comes to see her show and R is like “ooWooga she be fine now ig”. R and C catch up after the show and R goes away for a minute and then P is like “aight C imma kidnap you for a sec with no purpose whatsoever to the plot except for a cool song” and then C returns to her normal life ig. P them sends stuff to the people in charge of the Opera saying “ayo C be pretty fine, let her be the lead again” the people in charge of the opera were like “nah fam, let’s have the person who was supposed to be the lead be the lead”. Upset by this, during the show, P broke the chandelier and it fell into the audience. C is like “I love you uwu” R is like”let’s get engaged” C is like “let’s keep it a secret so the crazy P guy doesn’t find out” and little did they know during that conversation P was hiding and overheard everything and is now sad boi hours. A masquerade happens and P shows up like “ayo I heard you trynna steal my boo” and R is like “nah she my boo” and they duel or whatever. Idk how it transitions to this but the Opera runs another show and they make C the lead to not upset P. However, during a love song (Past the point of no return, it literally slaps), C realizes that the person singing isn’t the original actor, it is P! And then P straight up kidnaps C after the song, takes her to his lair and is like “boo you gotta marry me or I destroy the opera house with everyone inside it” C is like “fine ig” P takes off his mask and reveals he is hiding burn marks and he kisses C and C kisses back. P is like” my mom never even kissed me” and P let’s C go, telling her to go marry R... or you can just watch this video lmao https://youtu.be/4a5nahw3zi8″

On that note, here we go:

{that only goes for the final scene where its all three, it varies otherwise}

{Things I have learned while preparing this story, 1. the actual phantoms name is Erik, like what a nerd, 2. he’s also not actually a ghost??? He’s literally just some creeper who lives in an opera house screwing with people; also yes Eret is the strict lady who yells at everyone and talks to the phantom, deal with it}

{pls send me more musical au asks I really liked doing this, even if it took me a while}

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The ravenous applause of the audience seemed to echo in your ears, even after you had left the stage. 

You’re debut as the female lead in Hannibal had been a smashing success, and as the rest of the chorus girls backstage were saying, it was all thanks to the Phantom scaring Hannah off.  

Niki practically ran up to you from the rehearsal room, “(y/n) that was incredible!” 

You grinned, “Oh I feel like I’m floating Niki! Thank you for volunteering me for the role.” 

“Don’t thank me, Thank whoever's giving you those lessons,” She bumped her hip against yours, grinning cheekily, “And if what the girls are saying is true you’ll have to thank him for getting Hannah out of here.” 

You chuckled, but before you could say anything else Madame Eret was approaching, knocking the end of their cane of the ground, “Miss Nihachu, you are a dancer are you not?” 

Niki nodded. 

“Then get back to rehearsal,” he waited until Niki hurried off to turn to you, “He is most pleased with your performance, here.”

You took the note from him, reading over it quietly, “Red scarf..... the attic.... little lotte?” 

She simply shrugged, leaving you to turn and head up your dressing room. 

As you changed out of your costume from the show you couldn’t help but hum the song that had earned the most applause, “Think of me, think of me of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye.” 

Reaching around you found your dressing gown, pulling it on and tying up the front, “Remember me, once and a while. Please, promise you’ll try...” 

Your words faded off as your sat down at your vanity, beginning to brush out your hair. 

“Where is your red scarf Miss (y/l/n)? I hope you haven’t lost it. Not after all the trouble I went through to retrieve it for you.” 

You turned to see a tall dark hair man standing in the doorway, a grin spreading across your face as he continued, “I was only 14 and soaked to the bone...” 

“Because you ran into the sea to fetch my red scarf!” You exclaimed, jumping up and flinging your arms around him excietedly, “Sapnap! How I’ve missed you!” 

He chuckled, pulling away, and offering you a single red rose, “(y/n)... Little Lotte let her mind wander...” 

“You remember that too?” You asked with a giggle. 

Sapnap smiled and kept singing, “Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls,” 

“Or of goblins or shoes?” You joined in, “Or of riddles of frocks, or chocolates.” 

“Those picnics n the attic...” He reminisced. 

You closed your eyes, remembering those long ago days, “Father playing the violin.” 

“As we read each other those dark stories of the north.” 

“No what I like best, little Lotte said, is when I’m asleep in my bed,” You sang, “And the angel of music sings songs in my head!” 

“The angel of music sings songs in my head.” He repeated softly. 

You smiled at him, an excited fond feeling forming in your stomach as you sank back into your chair,  “Father said, when I am in heaven child I will send the angel of music to you. Well now father is dead, Sapnap. And I have been visited by the angel of music.” 

“Well that is very evident,” He chuckled, taking your hands, “Your performance was wonderful. And now, we shall go to supper.” 

“Oh- sapnap I can’t, the angle of music is very strict.” 

He didn’t seem to understand the urgency in your voice as he laughed again, “Well I shant keep you up late.”

“No- Sapnap, things have changed-”

“You have to change,” He interrupted, “And I have to grab my hat. Two minutes little lotte.” 

As he went out the door you cried after him, “Sapnap! Thing have changed Sapnap!”

But he was out of earshot, and the voice that had become so familiar to you was booming, “Insolate boy! This Slave of fashion basking in your glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing my triumph!”

“Angel I hear you! Speak, I listen! Stay by my side and gude me!” You begged up to the ceiling, “Angel my soul was weak! Forgive me! Enter at last master!”

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in the shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am their inside!” 

The voice sounded closer now, and you couldn’t help but look around, “Angel of music! Hide no longer!” 

You turned again, finding yourself face to face with what seemed like a mask, floating in your mirror, “Come to me, strange angel!”

“I am your angel! Come to me angel of music!” 

A shadowy figure seemed to appear behind the smiling mask, a hand outstretched to you. In a daze you stood, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you away down a dark pathway.

“Who’s voice is that?” Sapnap asked, knocking on the now closed door, “(y/n) who’s in there?” 

“Come with me angel of music!” Dream, the Phantoms voice echoed again. 

“(y/n)!” 

~~

“In sleep he came to me, the voice which calls to me and speaks my name!” You moved quietly through the passages, following Dream, “And Do I dream again? for now I find, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind!” 

“Sing once again with me our strange duet! My power over you grows stronger yet! And though you turn from me to look behind, the phantom of the opera is there! Inside your mind!” He sang, turning back to make sure you were following once more.

The walls of the tunnel seemed to widen, and you could almost make out an empty candle lit space. 

You reached out, fingers almost brushing the edge of his cloak, “Those who have seen your face draw back in fear! I am the mask you wear..”

“It’s me they hear...” 

As you emerged into a cross roads of the tunnels, you sang in tandem, “Your (my) spirit and your (my) voice in one combined, the phantom of the opera is there, inside your (my) mind!” 

He helped you into the boat that waited in one tunnel, before casting off, propelling the boat down the slow moving current, “In all your fantasies, you always knew the man and mystery...” 

“Were both in you....” You sang softly as the boat came to dock in a wide chamber.

Slowly you climbed out of the boat after him, looking around the dank space, and at the organ in the corner. 

Dream pulled off his cloak, “And in this labyrinth where the night is blind..”

“The Phantom of the opera is there! Inside my mind......” 

~~

As the people downstairs argued, you tried to think over what had happened. Was it a dream? It didn’t seem like it, but still, a man appearing in her looking glass? Taking her away and singing words of praise, words of love, words that made nearly no sense now that it was day, and a haze covered your memory. 

The one thing that remained clear was the monster she had found beyond the mask.

All too soon it seemed you were being rushed into rehearsals, being told you no longer had a speaking role, as Hannah had returned, and was back to her diva ways. 

Rehearsals that would normally drag on seemed to go quicker now, and soon you and the rest of the girls were getting ready for the performance. 

“This is ridiculous,” Niki muttered as she adjusted her costume, “You should be playing the duchess, not Hannab.” 

“Hannah is the featured soprano. She’s always the lead.” You retorted. 

“But how will Sapnap know to look for you in the chorus?” Niki teased.

You elbowed her, laughing lightly, “Shut up. Besides I doubt the phantom would let him see me again.”

The show had gone well, at least until the fifth scene. 

All the music stopped abruptly as a voice boomed, “Did I not instruct that box five was to be left empty?”

“He’s here: The Phantom Of The Opera!” Niki cried from offstage. 

Your head jerked up to turn and look at the audience, “It’s Dream!” 

“Your part is silent, you toad!” Hannah snapped. 

From somewhere up in the audience Dream frowned, “A toad Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad...” 

Hanna opened her mouth to continue on her script, but no sound seemed to come out, save for what was close the a croak. 

The men who had bought the opera house, Wilbur and Tommy were coming rushing down from their box, “Ladies and gentlemen we apologize! The performance will continue in ten minutes time, with Miss (y/l/n) as the duchess!”

Tommy nodded as Wilbur finished, “And for now, we will give you the ballet, from act three of tonight's show!” 

The ballet didn’t last long, as when you returned to the wings dressed for the new role you had been given, someone let out a horrified scream.

“What the-” 

You were cut off as you looked up to see Shlatt, the stagehand in charged of the curtains, hanging from the rigging, a noose fully tightened around his neck. 

“Ladies and gentlemen remain calm! It was just an accident- remain calm!” Someone shouted. 

Through the darkness you could make out Dream’s menacing figure, the smiling mask watching you threateningly as you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the scream that had ripped at your throat. 

“(y/n)? (y/n) are you alright?” Sapnap had run down onto the stage in all the chaos. 

“We- we have to get out of here,” You choked, grabbing his hand, “We aren’t safe here.” 

He didn’t seem to understand the reason behind your panic, but even so he offer you his arm, “Lets leave then.” 

~~

Twenty minutes later you ended up in an empty park, the panic that filled your chest not yet fading as Sapnap asked, “Why have you brought me here?”

“We can’t go back there!” You exclaimed. 

“But we must return.” He gripped your hands, “Darling their bound to be missing you.” 

You shook your head, “Sapnap- He’ll kill you! His eyes will find us there!” 

“(y/n), don’t say that! It’s okay (y/n), it’s okay!” 

You looked up into the darkened sky, “No it’s not- no it’s not- Those eyes that burn!” 

“Don’t even think it!” He cried desperately. 

You couldn’t tell whether you were trembling from fear, or from the cold, as you sang, “And if he has to kill a thousand men....” 

“Forget this waking nightmare!” Sapnap insisted. 

“....The phantom of the opera will kill.” You sang distractedly. 

He gripped your shoulders, “This phantom is a fable, (y/n), believe me!” 

“And kill again....” You shuddered at the idea of Dream doing anything to Sapnap. 

Both of you sang, “God who is this man, who hunts to kill? (this mask of death?)

“I can’t escape him!” You cried. 

He shook his head, “Whose voice is it you hear...”

“...I never will!” 

“With every breath?” 

His grip on your shoulders tightened, pulling you closer to him as you both sang, “And in this labyrinth where light is blind, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my (your) mind!”

“There is no Phantom of the Opera!” 

“Sapnap- I’ve been there, inside his world of never ending light! To a world where daylight dissolves into darkness, darkness! Sapnap I’ve seen him!” You cried. “Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape that face? So distorted, disformed it was hardly a face!  in the darkness, darkness. But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound in that night there was music in my mind And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before!” 

“What you had was a dream and nothing more!” 

You could hardly look up at him, “yet in his eyes was all the sadness in the world! Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore!” 

“(y/n), (y/n)!”  Sapnap exclaimed. 

“.....(y/n)......” A different voice seemed to cry into the night. 

You gasped, pressing yourself against Sapnap, “What was that?” 

He hugged you tightly, before pulling back and singing gently, “No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears. I’m here, and nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.” 

You relaxed into his grip, listening to his quiet voice, “Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears, I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.” 

“Say you love me, every waking moment. Turn my head and talk of summer time,” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “Say you need me now and always, promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you.” 

“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you are safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you.” He assured you, smiling softly. 

 “All I want is freedom, a world with no more night. And you to always be beside me, to hold me and to hide me.” You admitted. 

Sapnap’s smile grew wider, “Then say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n), that's all I ask of you.” 

“Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time,” You repeated, “Say the word, and I’ll follow you.” 

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning.” You sang together as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Say you love me?” 

He smiled, whispering, “You know I do.” 

“Love me- that's all I ask of you.” You both sang, before he leaned in to gently press a kiss to your lips, “Any where you go, let me go too. Love me- thats all I ask of you.” 

Sapnap kissed you again, before pulling away, “We could go anywhere- we could be married! You would marry me, yes?” 

“Oh, yes, Sapnap, yes I would. If you’d have me.” You nodded, eagerly. 

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You couldn’t help but giggle, before turning back toward the direction of the opera house, “I must go back, they’ll wonder where I am. Wait for me Sapnap!” 

“(y/n), I love you!” He exclaimed. 

“Wait for me, Sapnap. Order your finest horses and being waiting by the door.” You could go back, and continue working at the opera house, there was nothing left for you to fear while Sapnap was there.

“And soon you’ll be beside me!” He chuckled.

You grinned, “To guard me and too guide me!” 

Sapnap offered you his arm again, and you headed off out of the park, toward the opera house. 

Slowly, Dream slinked from the shadows where he had watched the proposal, “I gave you my music, made your song take wing. And now your repaid me, denied and betrayed me.” 

He groaned running a hand through his hair, “He was bound to love you, when he heard you sing. (y/n)- oh (y/n)-”

He was cut off by the sounds of your voices drifting down the street, Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time, Say the word, and I’ll follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning.”

Dream’s hands flew to his ears, desperate to block out the sounds- he had been so sure that you could’ve loved him, but now Sapnap was stealing you away. 

“You will curse the day you did not do, all that the phantom asked of you!” He bellowed. 

~~

The following weeks at the opera house were a blur of panic masked by busyness, Wilbur and Tommy refusing to let the disaster of the chandelier falling from keeping the company from working on their next performance. 

You kept on working, the ring on the chain Sapnap had given you around your neck helping you to feel safe, even as the chorus girls cited the Phantom for the cause of all the distress. 

Now you were back in your dressing room, getting ready for dinner with Sapnap.

“Wander child, so lost, so helpless,” A soft voice seemed to drift down from no where, “Yearning for my guidance.” 

You looked up at the ceiling, “angel or father? Friend or phantom? Who is it their staring?” 

“Have you forgotten your angel?” The voice murmured, Dream appearing once again in your mirror. 

You turned to him, almost in a trance, “angel, oh, speak, what endless longings, echo in this whisper.” 

Sapnap, having arrived to the opera house appeared in the door, watched as you moved toward the phantom. 

“Too long you’ve wandered the winter...” Dream continued to sing, hand outstretched to you. 

“Once again she is his.” Sapnap sang, as you started to cross the room toward the mirror where the phantom stood. 

“...far from my far reaching eyes.” 

“Wildly my mind beats against you....” You sang, transfixed. 

Behind the mask Dream grinned, “You resist. Yet your soul obeys.” 

“Once again she returns, to the arms of her angel. Angel or demon? Still he calls her, luring her back from the grave. Angel or dark seducer? Who are you strange angel?” Sapnap sang, again, more to himself than you or Dream. 

Dream beckoned you forward again,  “I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music!”

“Angel of darkness, cease this torment!” Sapnap exclaimed, moving into the room properly and drawing attention to himself. 

Dream unbothered, continued to sing, “I am your angle of music! Come to me angel of music!” 

“(y/n), (y/n) listen to me! Whatever you may believe- this thing, this man is not your father!”  Sapnap yelled, “(y/n)! Let her go! For gods sake let her go!” 

Jarred by his sudden yell, you turned, the trance broken, “Sapnap...” 

Dream, unimpressed, began to clap, deadpanning, “Bravo monsieur. Such spirited words.” 

“No more tricks monsieur!” Sapnap yelled, stepping forward to put himself between you and Dream. 

“Oh, but that's not any fun. Why don’t you come closer, sir? Keep coming this way.” 

Sapnap, not liking to be challenged, stepped forward, “You cannot win her love by holding her prisoner!” 

“No- Sapnap don’t!” You grabbed his hand, pulling him back. 

He nodded resolutely, gripping your hand as you both moved toward the door, “Lets go then, no more time will be spent with this monster.” 

“Don’t go!” Dream wailed as you hurried away down the hall, “Now let it be war upon you both!” 

~~

Something was going wrong, of course it was, because when was it not?

Your entrance in Don Juan Triumphant had gone according to plan, but the man who had stepped out as Don Juan was not George, as it should have been.

You steeled yourself, trying to come up with a logical reason.

George must have gotten sick, and a stand in had taken his place, yes that must be it.

“Past the point of no return, no backward glances, the games we played till now, are at an end.” The man sang, “Past all thought of ‘if’ or ‘when’, no use resisting, abandon that thought and let the dream descend.”

Your panic seemed to rise, the double meaning in his words filling you with dread.

“What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire locks the door? What sweet seduction lies before is? Past the point of no return, the final thread hold. What unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return.”

You moved carefully to your next mark, trying to work out who it was in George’s place, “You have brought me, to the moment when words run dry, to the moment when speech disappears into silence, silence.

I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I already imagined, our bodies entwined. Defenseless and silent, now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I’ve decided, decided.”

You just barley stopped from trembling as you realized, it was Dream, “Past the point of no return, no going back now. Our passion play has now, at last, begun. Past all thought of right and wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait, before we’re one?”

“When will the blood being to race? When will the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?” You finished, taking an only slightly shaky breath.

The phantom grabbed your hand as you both sang, “Past the point of no return, the final threshold. The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn, we’ve past the point of no return!”

Everyone in the audience seemed to hold their breath, they too knew that this was not George. The cloak that had hidden Dreams mask fell, and they gasped upon seeing the plaster smiling face.

He grinned behind the mask, and punctuated, “Say you’ll share with me, one love, one lifetimes lead me, save me from my solitude.”

The words stung even before he pulled out a ring, holding it out to you, “come with me, or this whole place will come down upon us.”

Slowly you looked to the audience, Sapnap was standing in the isle, looking worried.

You couldn’t let him get hurt.

You nodded reluctantly, as he continued, “say you want me by your side anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n) that’s all I ask of-“

Slowly, you reached up, pulling the mask off his face, revealing the terribly scared face to the world.

The gasps turned into horrible screams as a curtain was raised, and Georges body tumbled onto the stage.

Almost immediately Dream flung his cloak around you, disappearing.

Sapnap ran up onto the stage, along with the crew, police officers and other patrons.

“Sapnap! Sapnap you’ve got to come with me!” Eret cried, rushing out onto the stage.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Sapnap!” They yelled again, “I know where they are!”

“But can I trust you?” He demanded.

She nodded, “yes, and remember, keep your hand up at eye level.”

“Why?”

“Punjab lasso.” Was all he offered in explication as he led Sapnap away.

~~

Soon enough Sapnap was creeping through the shadows of the phantoms layer, watching as he tried to place a wedding veil on your head, “Too bad pity comes to late, turn around and face your fate, an entirety of this before your eyes!”

You turn to face him, looking up at the mess of scares that cover his face, “this haunted face holds no horror for me now, it is in your soul that the true distortion lies.”

The phantom turned suddenly, to Sapnaps hiding place, “Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest! Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come And now my wish comes true— you have truly made my night!”

“Free her!” Sapnap yelled, stepping into the light, “do what you want to me but let her go!”

“Your lover makes a passionate plea.” Dream laughed at you.

“Sapnap it’s useless!” You cried.

Sapnap shook his head, “I love her! Does that mean anything To you? I love her! Show some compassion!”

“The world showed no compassion to me!” Dream retorted.

He reached out toward you, “(y/n), (y/n), please let me see her!”

Dream grinned maliciously, “be my guest.”

Sapnap rushed forwards, as Dream contiued to taunt, “Monsuier, i bid you welcome, did you think that I would hurt her? Why should I make her pay, for the sins which are yours?” 

As he finished the last words the Punjab lasso came sailing out, and Sapnap barley had time to fling his arm back up as he was dragged back, the only thing keeping him from hanging being the fingers he’d wrangled between the rope and his neck. 

“No!” You cried, struggling to your feet. 

“Order your fine horses now!” Dream yelled, “Nothing now can save you, except maybe... (y/n).” 

You stood, shaking as he turned to you, “Start a new life with me- buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me now and send your lover to his death! This is the choice, this is the point of no return!” 

“(y/n), forgive me, please forgive me, I did it all for you, and all for nothing.” Sapnap sang, looking at you desperately.  

At the same time you turned toward Dream, “Farewell my fallen idol, and my false friend, one by one my delusions shattered.” 

“Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity!” Dream sang.

“{all hope of cries for help, no point in fighting!} (say you love and my life is over, either way you choose, he has to win!) {for ether way you choose, you cannot win! So do you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?}”

“Why make her lie to you, to save me?” Sapnap yelled. 

You looked between them desperately, “Angel of music..... {past the point of no return!} (For pity’s sake (y/n) say no! Don’t throw your life away for my sake!) Who deserves this? When will you see reason? {The Final threshold! His life is now the prize you must earn! You’ve passed the point of no return....}”

You looked at Dream, no longer trying to hide the fear that coursed through your veins, “Angel of music, you have deceived me, I gave myself blindly to you.” 

“You try my patience! Make your choice!” Dream yelled. 

Looking back at sapnap for a moment you stepped forward, whatever it would take, you would keep him safe, “Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone.” 

Reaching out, you took the mask from his hand, tossing it to the side as he moved closer to you as well. 

Before you could hardly blink he was kissing you, and with little more than a second thought you kissed back. 

Sapnap watched, in partials horror, until the phantom drew back, shaking as he whispered, “No one has ever kissed me- not even my own mother.” 

You nodded, and then suddenly Dream began to move across the room, grabbing a knife from somewhere as he stalked up to Sapnap.

He paused for a beat, and you could feel the terror in the room- until he slashed at the rope, and Sapnap fell the ground. 

You rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, “Sapnap! oh Sapnap!” 

“Take her,” dream wailed, “Take her and forget me, forget all of this! Leave me alone- forget all you’ve seen....”

Sapnap struggled to his feet, holding you close to him as he backed towards the channel. 

“Take the boat, leave me here, go now, please!” 

The sounds of the mob looking for Georges murderer seemed to grow louder as they grew closer.

“Hurry! Now before its too late!” Dream yelled. 

Sapnap hurriedly started to help you into the boat, but you pulled away, moving back to the Phantom, long enough to hand him the ring. 

Then you were off, turning to Sapnap as the current carried the boat away, “I’m sorry Sapnap- I couldn’t let him hurt you- I couldn’t!” 

“Shhh. It’s alright (y/n), it’s alright. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He murmured, pulling you into his arms.

“Say you’ll share with me, one love one lifetime.” You sang shakily.

Sapnap nodded, “Say the word and I’ll follow you.”

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning...” The sounds of your voices traveled back up the tunnel for Dream to hear. 

He sighed, looking resolutly into the distance, “You alone can make my song take flight- It’s over now, the music of the night!”

[kmclaude]

ok, i am having thoughts on the askmeme and i am just going to say them (/ _ ≦ *) like... ok, so jehan HATES tiefer so much, but like... what if he secretly really likes being taken care of? like jehan is a brat, but he seems like he can't do anything. tiefer just driving him places. because jehan sucks at driving. and isn't it just so awkward for him to not be able to drive? and tiefer being so calm and in-control of it all. like he is a psychopath, but he can drive really well and he can cook really well and he "looks" normal. and after dinner he pulls jehan down into his lap and rests a hand on his stomach and just pets him slowly. and jehan is losing his mind the entire time beneath the crushing embarrassment that tiefer is just better, more of an adult than jehan. even though he does all of these horrible things, he looks normal

and tiefer is like, "of course, i'd drive you places. i'm your parrain." and just being "overprotective" in public like, "oh, i have to take care of you. i'm your parrain. what would happen if i left you alone? you can't do anything, remember? :I" and jehan is like, "you're not taking care of me. you're being weird," but like... he can't prove that ◔_◔ tiefer is just a very affectionate guy. touch is his love language, jehan. damn, ungrateful much? don't you like it when it's romantic? but it's ok. parrain will forgive you. you don't know any better...

and secretly a part of jehan is so incredibly turned-on by that. by tiefer having more partners and more experience and life coming so easily to tief. because jehan grew up neglected and really wants to be that good at everything, so he can be safe. so, he just sort of lets it happen because tiefer's so tall and old and it's nice thinking someone knows what's going on. tiefer wants him to think he has everything under control, so he should just let him. he doesn't have to deal with the crushing guilt if he hands it all over to tiefer and gives him what he wants and repents, "gets rid of all his sins," does his penance, y'know... he doesn't have to feel bad if he bleeds and then tiefer forgives him. if tiefer doesn't make him feel bad because he's done his punishment. if he lets tiefer clean him up and pick out his clothes and spike his drink and lick the inside of his mouth

and jehan asks tief to tell him about all of the "women" he's been with (because he's "straight with an exception" and it just really turns him on and would help him out, y'know). and ofc tiefer thinks it's mf hilarious and he doesn't mind doing it if it'll make jehan more receptive because he knows a part of it isn't about other people at all. it's about tiefer and it's about jehan thinking about tiefer in bed and how good he is. because jehan's so pathetic and he doesn't know the first thing about the human body, so ofc he likes hearing it. it's ok. it's not like there's any other way for jehan to know. tiefer would never let him sleep around. he has to keep him on a short leash, y'know. i mean, tiefer's full of lust, but jehan's got all of these hormones and he can't keep his eyes to himself and he's such a godless, cowardly little brat. who knows what would happen if he let jehan out of his sight? he's only pretending to have a low libido really... 👀

and! i have this headcanon that because jehan likes showing "affection with words" that this is where tief's pet names come into it. maybe tiefer sets jehan up to fuck something up so terribly. and jehan's like, "this isn't even fair! it was rigged against me!" and tiefer's like, "see, this is why you should just let me take care of you, so things like this don't happen. you've been so cold to me lately, p'tit, but i forgive you. just let me make love to you. i know how you like it" and tiefer is kissing him all over and guiding his hands, so he can do it properly. and it just feels so good and jehan's going to cry. because tiefer's being so much nicer than usual and not doing it in public and the bedroom is so clean compared to normal and tiefer's letting him make small irrelevant choices like where tief's hands feel best. but it's not any choice at all. it's just one more thing for tiefer to take. and it's all getting into his head and he's going to break

oh anon this is a feast

(and it's funny how spot on a lot of this is, haha -- I actually very much see their relationship in many ways as what the whole erastes/eromenos thing was, as a "here's your Rite Of Passage and guide to Being An Adult Male so you can Go On And Have A Wife And Kids And Normal Life" kinda thing. because isn't that appealing, to have someone take your hand and guide you through things? isn't it nice to have someone do things for you? isn't it nice to not have to think, not have to ask, not have to worry because someone else is in charge, someone else has done it before, you don't need to... and that appeal exists there, with Tiefer. and Jehan is a bit (a lot) of an avoidant personality -- why not let Tiefer take care of him? why not let him call the shots? why not let him dictate his desires and decorate the pretty gilded little cage he's made for him?)

anyway god this is delightful and there's so many things about this i want to just....pluck at and pull at but oh this

and secretly a part of jehan is so incredibly turned-on by that. by tiefer having more partners and more experience and life coming so easily to tief.

and this

and jehan asks tief to tell him about all of the "women" he's been with (because he's "straight with an exception" and it just really turns him on and would help him out, y'know). and ofc tiefer thinks it's mf hilarious and he doesn't mind doing it if it'll make jehan more receptive because he knows a part of it isn't about other people at all. it's about tiefer and it's about jehan thinking about tiefer in bed and how good he is. because jehan's so pathetic

just hit a delicious nerve because god isn't there something erotic about someone who's lived, who knows? isn't there something dangerous in knowing, in living? isn't there something helpless (and a learned helpless perhaps too) and virginal and all the more erotic for the wanting? and the taboo of one's own (or assisted) creation, the forbidden, is so alluring and upsetting. guh.

there's a loathing and a lust and a painful desire to be loved (and to love!) and i have a lot of feelings but man anon this hits, this slaps, this is a gd feast over at hannibal's gd chateau

[babbling-idiot2]

Francis Dolarhyde x reader

Requested: Nope

Warning: Nothing but Fluff

(Hello everyone so this is a fic that I came up with. Now I love the series Hannibal but I love the movies much better. Especially the movie Red Dragon. This is based on that Francis Dolarhyde.)

You had been Francis's friend for years. Though that was a very hard relationship to keep with him. You knew of his horrid relationship with his grandmother. It was truly a wonder how a woman as horrible as her hadn't been in jail or something, well that was a long time ago. It was always the same kind of run in with him. He would often run away to your house at night to talk to you. A lot of the time you would meet him halfway so he wouldn't have to run all the way to your house. He would tell you about what had happened that day, be it good or bad. He would always say how much he hated living with his grandmother. He had even said how he would live with you if he could. This always surprised you. You weren't anything special. You got bullied at school, didn't have very many friends and frankly were sort of a loner. Yet Francis never stopped his visits and your friendship grew and grew. 

Though when you both reached your teen years you began to see less and less of him. Then you had finally got word of him spending time in the army. Which quite frankly, surprised you. He didn't come off as the type to do such of a thing. But when he came back. you finally got to see him again. He was in the store and was getting some groceries. You came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and looked at you puzzled for a moment before realizing. "Y/n?" "Hey Francis! How are you buddy?" You say as you instantly wrap your arms around his tall figure only able to wrapping them around his upper arms fully. He gets a intake of breath before sighing out after wrapping his large arms around you as well. Picking you up slightly with how excited his was. "I'm...good. A-and you?" "I'm getting by. I've missed you though, without my buddy for the past what? 13 years I haven't seen you at all. I'm just happy to see you again!" You say smiling at him. This makes him smile in return, something you always loved about him was his smile. It was always genuine around you. 

From that day on you both were always meeting up to grab coffee or something to eat. Which always seemed quite normal. Though one day he had asked you if you would like to spend your time hanging out at his home. Which you happily agreed too. When you found out he was still living in the same house he grew up in, it baffled you. How could he still stay there? It would make sense if he didn't have enough money to do that or he just wanted to stay there for some reason. But when you did arrive you were shocked. The place seemed in good shape and surprisingly you actually felt nice to be in the house.  

You both were sat on the couch, a movie was playing but was drowning out as you both got caught up in conversation. You both had talked for a long time. About what you had missed out on, things that happened in town, losses, and so much more. He was still the same boy you knew when you were little and still as shy. You could still remember hearing yourself telling him how he shouldn't be shy around you. That his lip and his speech didn't bother you. That you loved that about him. Even now he still seemed to be the shy boy you once knew. "But now I'm a Production Manager at the Gateway Cooperation in town." Still so much was surprising you about him. "First your off to the army and then you come back and now you have an awesome job. What else have I missed?" You say will a smile on your face. "I don't mean to be awkward but, when we were kids you were quite small. In size I mean. Did the army do that to you?" He goes to say something but stops himself. You could tell he was thinking. "N-no. After the army, when I came home I just kept up with myself. I worked out quite often to do that." He says looking down shyly. You shake your head and he seems to notice. "What's the matter?" You press your lips together and look down. "No matter how many time I say it. No matter how much I mean it, you just don't seem to believe me do you?" He shakes his head "I don't understand." "Francis, even when we were kids you were shy. And you know that, but why don't you believe me when I say that you don't have to be shy around me. I mean I've told you a thousand times." You say giving a slight smile and tilt of your head. He frowns and looks away from you. You reach over and grab his hand. Squeezing it to hopefully get his attention. He looks at you slowly "Francis, I would never judge you. You may be self conscious about it, but that's ok. Personally I love it. You're very handsome, don't forget that." You say looking at him straight in the eyes. Suddenly he get this look of worry on his face and looks away quickly "Y/n, can I do something?" Confused you answer "Francis this is your hous-" -No! No I mean can I do something.....to you?" He says not even looking at you now. You mouth a silent "Oh" and take in what he could possibly mean. "Yeah sure? What did you have in mind?" He looks at you then slowly begins to inch himself closer to you. He then leans in slowly and gently places his lips on yours. his eyes were squeezed shut and yours where also closed. you slowly placed a hand on his shoulder. He sighs out and pulls away. Then starts to breath heavy. He looked everywhere but you, at first you thought putting your hand on his shoulder was a bad idea. "Are you angry with me?" You shake you head with a gentle smile on your face "Of course not Francis. It was very nice." He nods his head and begins to smile with a large blush on his cheeks. He then looks at you again "Can I take you out for dinner? Or I can make you dinner here, which ever you prefer." "I would love that, and where ever is fine, as long as I'm with you!" He smiles again and looks down to try and cover his blush. 

For the rest of the day you had spent it at Francis's. You talked about the past, the present and what you hoped the future would hold for you. He drove you home at 7:30 and you ended up talking for a little while in your doorway. You said goodbye to him and watched him drive away. You were so happy that he was back in town. So happy you got to see your old friend again, you just hope that would be a reoccurring thing. Hopefully you'd finally be able to tell him how you feel for him. Hopefully one day.

(Hello again, so if you liked this please leave feedback it help a lot and I appreciate all of it! Have an amazing day and stay safe out there in the world!)

[slasherscream]

You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable but may I have a request where JD, Hannibal, Billy and Candyman react when they found out the woman they love who always cares and smiles for others, just a ball of sunshine coming from a dysfunctional broken home. Even when they find her with a black eye due to an argument, she still smiles and ensures she's fine

Jason Dean

JD never saw it coming. He figured you came from some perfect, little suburban dream family. A loving Mother, a doting Father        he didn’t know what else could produce someone like you but a stable home life. 

He had a childhood that was less than ideal, putting it lightly, and you two shared almost nothing in common. Where he was pessimistic you were looking on the bright side. When he pointed out the nastiness in others you’d somehow find a way to make him see the good in the people around you two as well.

Though sometimes he thought you were a little naive it endeared him to you more than you could know. No matter what he did you’d come back swinging with that positive, happy-go-lucky outlook and it was beginning to rub off on him, just a little. 

He smiled more when you were around. Everything felt more worthwhile. That was, of course, when the illusion went tumbling down. 

He crawled through your window ready to see you and surprise you as he’d gotten your address from one of your many friends at school. 

He climbed through the window he guessed was yours only to find you curled up on your bed, clutching your pillow and trying to block out the sounds of loud fighting going on downstairs. 

Multiple voices screaming back and forth, you flinching at every sound bleeding through your door. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst was when he made a noise finishing coming through and you turned to look at him, startled. 

Your eye was swollen and already beginning to discolor but immediately upon seeing the expression on his face (rage and heartbreak mixing together) you raced to him trying to reassure him you were fine. 

He asked who touched you but you just kept reassuring him that everything was fine. You hugged him close and tried to soothe his nerves, all the while, the fighting downstairs got louder.  

You can say it’s fine all you want but JD will never forget and he’ll get his answer eventually. He’ll punish your family for hurting you all these years when there was no one around to protect you. You were everything that was good about the world, and if he had to burn it to ash to see you safe and happy the way you deserved to be? He’d do it in a heartbeat. 

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal is probably the closest to seeing something off right from the start of things. 

It’s not that you aren’t convincing, or even that you’re faking your joy and general love for the world around you. He hates people that aren’t genuine and he can sniff them out easily. 

It’s just that sometimes there is a sadness to you that he is always trying to trace back to something. You are a puzzle that he is trying to solve and somewhere along the line he falls in love with you. 

He notices how you dance around the topic of family, keeping your comments vague and going a bit quiet whenever he brings up wanting to meet the people who’d raised such a wonderful, young woman. 

For some reason his mind does not jump straight to abuse. There are plenty of strained parental relationships that are not out right abusive and outside of those tiny moments where you seem to break a little at the seams you’re so bright. 

Love is blind, he’d thought the expression only true for others, he hadn’t ever imagined himself being in love in the first place. He couldn’t have imagined his own assumptions towards you blinding him to the obvious. 

When you show up to a lunch date with him wearing sunglasses he tries to spend the meal ignoring them but finally asks, for the sake of manners, for you to remove them as you are at the table. He’d never known you to be rude. 

Slowly you take them off and the world goes still. Your face is pointed downwards towards the table but it doesn’t stop him from being able to see your eye. He rushes from his side of the table to cup your face and everything clinks into place immediately. 

“Who did this to you, dearest?” his voice is devoid of judgement, calm the way he is during his sessions. But inside he’s engulfed with rage. 

“My (family member) didn’t mean to. Our fights just get so bad and I’m always making them so angry-” He pushes your head into his chest, stopping your onslaught of excuses for a person who wouldn’t be in the land of the living very much longer. There was no need for you to think of them anymore. 

Billy Loomis

What draws him to you is how good you are. At first it annoys him because he thinks you’re faking it. No one could possibly be as sweet and kind as you’re pretending to be. 

He can stand few things less than he can stand a fake and at first, frankly, his interest in you is finding out everything he can about you so he can kill you and mentally torture you while he does it.

It’s while he’s learning everything he can about you and stalking you that he starts to fall in love with you, little by little. Stu keeps asking him when they’re going to off you and he keeps answering ‘not yet’ every time. Eventually Stu stops asking and starts to focus on the next victim. 

Billy doesn’t lose focus. He can’t think of anything but you. He starts stalking you more and more, the need to see you and hear you only worsening by the minute. 

Eventually he gets sloppy and slips up and you see him. You’re walking alone at night for some reason in a town with an active serial killer but you look like there’s no other place you’d rather be. He wonders why you don’t go home but just barely, he’s grateful you’re usually so easy to keep track of. 

When you spot him you recognize him from school and call out to him. He’s got no choice but to approach you casually, pretending he’s also out for a late night walk. “We should walk together to be safe!” Before he knows it you’re looping your arm through his and walking together.

You stay out nearly the whole night together and he asks you out the very next day. It’s not long before he’s calling you his girlfriend and stalking you less. You spend so much time with him he’s actually pretty secure in the relationship and what you mean to each other. Sometimes he’ll do it just to check up on you but it becomes a rarity. 

One night he follows you home, just to make sure you get there without incident, and he starts hearing strange loud noises from inside the house. He sneaks into your bedroom window just to make sure you’re okay. You run in crying right as he’s making his way to the door, clutching the side of your face protectively.

He’s on you in a second, locking the door and prying your hands away. You don’t have time to ask him what he’s doing there before he sees the early signs of your eye bruising and falls into shell-shocked silence. 

With more gentleness than you knew he was capable of he kissed your head, got out a bag, and began to pack away some of your things. You watch him quietly, trying to convince him it’s okay but he silences you with one intense look that he disappears quickly, replaced by the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” He crosses the room, cupping your face gently, thumb grazing the skin beneath your bruised eye.

Once he’s done packing he guides you carefully out the window and into his car. He’s going to take you to Stu’s where he intends to share their big secret. Then he and Stu are going to make a night out of killing your family. 

Candyman

He is a spirit, roaming and untethered, when he sees you and is first struck dumb by your beauty. He never thought he’d love again but the minute he sets eyes on you he knows he can grow to love you. That he could cherish you for the rest of your natural life and beyond. 

He wants you. Needs you. He begins to visit you in dreams. Never nightmares. In your dreams he is a princely figure that loves you already, that has loved you more than anyone in your entire life. 

You’ve never slept better than in the months where he woos you, and makes you fall in love with him, this phantom created by your own mind. 

Part of you thinks you’re going crazy. How could you be falling in love with a man that isn’t real? But you’re a romantic and can’t deny the pull you feel within yourself. They may be only dreams but they make you happy. Daniel, makes you happy. 

You don’t have to wonder for long if you’re losing your mind because he whispers to you in a dream that he can be real. Real as flesh and blood if you say a name three times in a mirror. Candyman. 

You wake up the next morning feeling silly but can’t help doing it. Part of you desperately hoping that your escape from your real life could become your real life, if there was really some magic in the world. 

It works of course and the minute you feel his arms around you, you start to cry tears of joy. But you’d forgotten about the fight you had with your family the night before. In your dreams you are always perfect and beautiful, your skin unmarred by the abuse you endure every day. But now, away from your dreams, Robert can see that someone has dared to harm you. His love. His darling. 

He doesn’t need you to tell him who’s done this. One look at you and he seems to know. He knows you better than anyone else. 

His hand, the human one, the one that isn’t for killing or hurting, touches gently your damaged skin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. 

He has been summoned and there’s a price of blood to be paid. 

[det395]

First Fic Lines Game

Rules: DON’T REBLOG THIS ONE, MAKE A NEW POST! List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

thank you for tagging me @randomcat1832 !

The next one to move in is a man. Just a man, no one else. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35880031)

Jin Ling hears a familiar screaming. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35388547)

Will falls asleep with his cheek pressed to a picture of a dead girl. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34850707/chapters/86779342)

Will runs through the woods, his gun swinging back and forth in his arms as he builds up speed. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34172935)

That can’t be comfortable. The meadow is filled with little rocks and bumpy ridges from all the rain over the last couple of days. The dandelions and a few surviving flowers tickle and prick Phil’s skin, but Dan is a pretty heavy guy; he must have crushed them all beneath his limbs. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32390650/chapters/80305843)

The queue moves along fast, and he drags his shoes along to purposefully elevate the scuffling noise in the room. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609723/chapters/48935468)

“That sounds like a crock of shit,” is the very first thing Kaz says that evening. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32711686/chapters/81153673)

Inej sat by the window on the top floor of the Slat, picking at a stale piece of bread and smiling at every crow that fluttered toward her. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32224639)

They all turned at the sound of the doorknob jiggling against the lock, followed by the sound of a cane rapping against the door. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32185867)

He felt as though he would be lost wandering the dark woods for the rest of time. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32057113)

takeaways:

huh it seems like a lot of my first lines are dropping a character right into some action or description with no context. a lot are very short and abrupt sentences that sound weird out of their paragraphs that slowly start to make sense (like #5 that i kept a few more sentences on for). i think sometimes i want to make the sentences a bit easier at the start until letting the reader get a sense for the tone, if that makes sense. i’m kind of surprised i only start with one quote and i think id find more in some of my earlier fics! i also forgot how diverse my recent fcs have been wow like bottom to top it goes dark hannibal fairytale, polycrows, dunyasha/inej rarepair, intense hannibal/soc crossover, updates to old dystopian phan, old magical realism phan, angery hannibal porn, my attempt at torture porn, crack-y untamed, and kpop ghost romance. cool to see tho always a bit self-conscious looking back at old lines, especially with how the first lines can really make or break if a person reads!

i am completely blanking so if anyone wants to do this please go ahead!

[darling-i-read-it]

Slow Kisses

Will Graham x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: near smut, teasing basically 

Author’s Note: if y’all remember the post i made where i was like ‘i dont even like smut but whatever i just wrote made me pause and take a cold shower’ this is that fic this is it and my heart is STILL BEATING (i LOVE IT) 

Summary: Ever since coming back from jail Will’s been a lot more bold 

Genre: not smut but also kinda like sorta 

Song: younce by beyonce 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif) (do yall know how long ive been waiting to have a fic to use this gif for and it is HERE)

Will, however unstable, was usually the smartest person in any room. When you met him it was because you both had started to work with the FBI as profilers not that they needed anyone that wasn’t him. You grew close quite quickly and you became a clutch in his life, something he needed outside of Hannibal and the job he was learning to hate.

And then he went to jail.

Quite a wrench in any actual relationship.

He was amazed that you stayed beside him. Alana Bloom had abandoned all hope. Freddie was sure he had killed people. Hannibal (despite being a murderer, Will was sure of that) figured Will was responsible. Jack Crawford figured his friend was a killer. Chilton was poking Will's mind as though he was one.

You.

You did something he hadn’t quite expected, even in his mind that was what had gotten him into all of this.

You believed him.

And for that reason and that reason alone, he knew you were the person he was coming out of jail for and you were the person he would protect in the reckoning that Hannibal no doubt had coming. You were his. Will had very little things to himself. He had his dogs. 

He had you. 

And now that he was out of jail, the man who didn’t kill all those people, was feared. Alana, Jack, Freddie, even Hannibal sometimes, saw something in him that scared them.

When Hannibal ran away, narrowly escaping capture, Will was on a mission. He was recovering and he was scared and he was angry. 

You stood at the end of his table, making him some dinner from the scraps you managed to get together.

“Y/N?” You turned around slightly and to let him know that you had heard him but just in case you said his name back to him.

“Will?” 

“You’re aware I killed that man and mutilated his body right? The one in the museum?” You nodded.

“Sure. Where are you going with this?” you asked, laughing nervously. Will looked at you. Really looked. He thought about why you were still beside him despite it all and he thought about why on Earth you sounded so nonchalant at him mutilating a body.

“You’re not...scared?” 

“Should I be?” You turned fully around now so that you had his full attention. You curled your fingers under the counter and crossed one leg over the other.

“I don’t think so.” He paused. “Everyone else is.” You shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re unbothered that everyone is afraid your boyfriend will tear them to pieces with no remorse.” You shrugged and slowly walked over to where he sat at the end of the table. Your finger brushed the smoothed wood, stopping just a few feet from him.

“No remorse sounds a bit extreme.”

“Are you sure you aren’t Hannibal Lecters girlfriend?” Will asked. He was giving you a look, a challenging look. You had never seen that look on Will but you supposed prison could do that to a person.

“I’m quite sure.” you whispered. “What’s brought this on?” He shrugged. 

“Stares in the streets. The girlfriend of the guy who didn’t kill all those people.” 

“I’m your girlfriend Will.” 

You raised your hand to touch his cheek but he grabbed it before you got there. He yanked your arm and you fell into his lap where he had his other hand to steady you. You put your hands on his chest, surprised that he had done that.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, eyes on your lips and then back at your eyes.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked but your voice was barely above an audible whisper. His gaze was making you squirm. 

“Nothing that wasn’t there before.”

He raised a hand to your cheek, slowly, pausing on your chest but not touching you, his hand only hovering. You held your breath as he stared at you through his fingers. You had never seen this part of Will but damn if you didn’t like it.

Will cupped your cheek and what would usually be a soft vulnerable gaze was now a governing look of control.

He leaned forward and you went to meet him halfway but he stopped you, your lips just barely touching, not enough for your liking. You breathed out a stubborn sigh and his lips turned up into a smirk. 

He grabbed your hip harshley with his free hand and kissed you slowly, to slow for your taste. You leaned into him, eager to speed him up but he wasn’t letting you go any faster even as his hands started to explore your waist more.

“Will,” you muttered and he kissed your jaw softly.

“Hm?” 

“The dinner-” He laughed lowly but didn’t let up on his kissing. His voice was gruff.

“Dinner can wait.” 

[slashyrogue]

Au-gust Extra: 19th Century Soulmates

Lady Komeda’s annual ball was quite possibly the most elaborate of the season. Every inch of the ballroom was glittery golds, shining whites, and those were just the decorations. The clothes were just as decadent, dripping with wealth, and as Count Hannibal Lecter looked around the room he was bored with it all. 

These people were shallow, vapid creatures with no real personality or value. He imagined their deaths one by one while smiling fakely and tossing out compliments like scraps of meat for wild dogs. 

He had been at this ball for nearly an hour now, and found not one person to have a decent conversation with. 

The only interesting person in the room was Lady Du Maurier, but as she had just recently found her soulmate there was little room to get her attention. The two women only had eyes for each other, soulmarks burning on their hands, and everyone around the room looked at them in envy. 

Soulmates were, of course, so very rare that to see a match in real time was supposed to be a celebration. No one here was celebrating, least of all Lady Komeda who was well past the age for finding hers. 

Hannibal watched them now and felt nothing like envy. 

He pitied poor Bedelia for the attachment. Soulmates were a phenomena unlike any other but the drawback was not worth the payoff in his opinion. Everyone who lost their soulmate often died themselves, and Hannibal did not need that holding over his head. 

Worrying for someone else’s safety had not been a factor of his life since he was very young and he didn’t wish for that feeling to return. 

Or any others. 

When this ball was all over he would need to release some tension, which meant going through his files for someone to dispose of quickly. 

Lord Chilton, perhaps? 

The man was at the bottom of his wealth now, desperate for a match or a soulmate with money, and if Hannibal flattered him enough he’d do just about anything. 

Hannibal smiled.  

That seemed like a perfect ending to this waste of a night. 

He headed now away from his conversation with Franklyn Froideveaux, cheese connoisseur and salesman. Why Lady Komeda would have invited the poor man Hannibal did not know, but perhaps he’d provided the cheese hors d'oeuvres. 

There were young men carrying trays all about the room, beautiful creatures who were obviously servants of the lady herself, and as Hannibal took a cheese cracker from one he winked at the young man making him blush. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re,” the young man squeaked, “You’re very welcome, sir.” 

He bowed and took off almost in a run. 

Pity. 

That would’ve been a good distraction as well. 

Hannibal eyed the room, hoping for something or someone to waste his last hour with and found none. Though to his horror Mr. Froideveaux seemed to spot him again. He saw the balcony doors and headed for them in hopes he would not be noticed. The minute the door closed he let out a sigh. 

“...and if you touch me again, I will...” 

He looked up, surprised, and saw a young man standing on the balcony holding a tray and looking very determined as he spoke to himself. 

“I do not think guests are looking for cheese out here.” 

The young man turned, startled, and his wide blue eyes reminded Hannibal of the ocean. His curls bounced as he moved and Hannibal wanted to run his fingers through their softness.

“Excuse me, my Lord. I was...getting some air.” 

Hannibal walked over to him slowly but kept distance between them. 

“This is a very good place for air, and to get away from guests with wandering hands.” 

The blush he got in return only confirmed his suspicions. 

“The Lady does not like us to complain about guests, but this man keeps...” 

“What is his name?” 

The young man blinked. “I...I should not tell you.” 

Hannibal eyed the tray. “May I?” 

“I...of course.” 

He took a cheese cracker and brought the food to his mouth, biting down while never once looking from the young man. He swallowed, licking his lips, and smiled. 

“Very good.” 

“I...did not make them.” 

“No, but they are still quite good.” 

“I will tell the kitchen staff.” 

Hannibal nodded. “Will you tell me the name?” 

“I shouldn’t.” 

He reached for the young man’s hand, ready to charm the name out of those perfect pink lips, and was shocked when a heat went through them. The tray fell as they stared, confused, and when he looked down their hands had matching marks. 

Soulmate. 

The young man pulled his hand away, cheeks flushed, and attempted to flee but Hannibal stopped him. 

“Your name.” 

“I....” 

“You see the marks on our hands,” he whispered, “I will not be letting you go, not now, and perhaps not ever.” 

“A soulmark is not a brand of ownership, my Lord.” 

“I am not a Lord,” he whispered, taking the young man’s hand to his lips, “I am a Count and above the stations of everyone here now. Tell me your name.” 

“Will Graham.” 

“Hello, Will. My name is Hannibal.”

“I...I need to get back before the lady of the house...” 

Hannibal smiled. “Lady Komeda will no longer be a problem you have to worry about, Will, nor will the man who touched you inappropriately. How old are you, Will?” 

“One and twenty, S...Hannibal. I’ve lived here since I was quite young.” 

“This is your first party, yes?” 

“Lady Komeda needed one more to wait on the guests and I was given the task. I work with the horses, and often the dogs.” 

“I have plenty of both at my estate as well, but would allow you as much as you’d like.” 

Will pulled away. “I...I’m happy that we’ve matched,” he whispered, staring down at the fallen tray, “But I will not go home with you.” 

Hannibal blinked. “We are soulmates, Will. This is not merely a courting, it’s fate.” 

“As I’ve said already, sir....a soulmark is not a brand of ownership. Our souls may match but my body and my mind belongs to me.” 

He felt an immense pleasure at the fire in Will’s eyes, and without thought knelt down in front of him. 

The widening of Will’s eyes made him feel even happier. “You are...perfect.” 

“Hannibal...you....” 

The balcony door opened and they both turned to see the cheese man, Franklyn, staring at them. He looked even more shocked than Will. 

“I...what is going on? Why are the crackers all over the floor? That is nearly twenty dollars worth of imported cheese!” 

Hannibal looked at Will again, grabbed his hand, and their skin warmed. 

“I wish to court you, Will. If you’ll allow me the privilege.” 

Will nodded. “I...yes.” 

Several more voices added to Franklyn’s but Hannibal did not notice or care to whom they belonged. He stood up slowly with Will’s help, and when they were close enough to whisper he asked again. 

“Who touched you inappropriately?” 

Will turned to look at the crowd who now watched them and his glare made him even more lovely. “That man there,” he whispered, “Chilton.” 

Hannibal turned and locked eyes with Frederick who looked as white as a ghost. 

He held up his and Will’s soulmarked hands for him to see clearly, kissing Will’s hand in plain sight. 

“He will not touch you again.” 

[pianomanblaine]

Killing Me Softly

He could have spent an eternity envisioning his own death and it still would not have prepared him for this.

Written for  @timebird84 ‘s Spooky Phantober, day 2. I know it says SPOOKY phantober, but I don’t really do spooky, so this turned into something else, I hope that’s okay. 

AO3 FFN

In the course of his existence, Erik had come close to death many times. He’d been attacked, beaten, poisoned more times than he cared to remember. He had imagined and anticipated his own demise in more than a hundred different ways. On a few occasions, he had even longed for it, relished the idea of someone putting an end to his miserable life, but the human instinct for survival is a strange thing, the body always doing everything in its power to stay alive no matter how hard the brain yearns for it to stop.

Nevertheless, he could have spent an eternity envisioning his own death and it still would not have prepared him for this. He had always thought it would be painful. Whether it was sharp and quick or slow and drawn out, in his mind there was always physical suffering involved. This was something else entirely.

This type of dying was… soft. Every smile she gave him, every touch and every kind word she bestowed upon him made him feel warm. Hearing her sing for him and only him during their lessons lit up his entire being from the inside, made his spirit soar to heights he had never known existed. Her mere presence was like a drug, a powerful painkiller taking away the hurt caused by the knowledge that she would never be his.

Even if Christine could feel even a fraction of the love he felt for her, he could never bring himself to kill her light by dragging her down to his world of darkness, and her realm of colour and brightness would always be out of reach for the monster that he was. So he would bask in her glow as long as possible, and when she finally left, she would take his heart with her, if he ever had a heart to begin with.

He had been slowly dying like this for about a month now, while he watched her live as she never had before. After her successful debut as Elissa in Hannibal, Christine had been given more prominent roles and had managed to shine in every single one of them (not that Erik had expected anything else). Her angel’s voice along with his tutelage made her into the rising star of the Opera Populaire. Soon the whole world would be at her feet. It would not be long now before she would spread her wings and fly, leaving him behind to rot in hell like he deserved. It wouldn’t be painful, he expected. Once she had gone and he had no more reason to live, he would simply cease to be.

But he had some time left before all of that was to happen. Tonight, his angel had given what could arguably be called the best performance of her career thus far as Marguerite in the new production of Faust, and he was waiting behind the mirror of her dressing room to congratulate her in person. Soon she came bustling into the room, a most becoming blush colouring her cheeks, no doubt as a result of the praise bestowed upon her by her adoring audience. As soon as the door had closed behind her, her gaze went straight to the mirror.

‘Erik? Are you there?’ she called out.

‘Of course, my dear,’ he replied, ‘where else would I be?’

Indeed, where else would he be? Every minute he spent in her presence brought him closer to his inevitable demise, but that would not stop him from basking in her light for however long she would allow him to.

The lock on the door clicked shut. ‘Won’t you come in, please? You know I prefer to talk to you face to face,’ Christine said.

‘Yes, I do know that, although for the life of me, I cannot fathom why,’ he murmured to himself as he swung open the mirror and stepped into her dressing room.

‘Brava, my angel, you were magnificent tonight, as I knew you would be.’

She thanked him quietly, looking away from him, her cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red. Would she ever stop being so shy and modest in the face of his compliments, even though he must have given her thousands already? And would he ever stop feeling this fluttering in his chest when he saw that breathtakingly beautiful smile on her face? He hoped the answer was no.

‘We should start preparing you for your next role. I’m sure the new production will be announced soon.’

‘Yes, I suppose.’

Although Christine usually threw herself into preparing for a new role with enthusiasm, she seemed rather reluctant to address the topic tonight.

‘Is something the matter, my dear?’

Finally, for the first time that evening, she looked him in the eye, although her reply was still rather hesitant.

‘As a matter of fact, there is something I wish to discuss with you concerning the next production.’

‘Oh? And what would that be?’

‘I… I don’t think… Oh please, don’t be upset with me, Erik!’ she cried out, hiding her face in her hands.

‘Christine, whatever is going on?’ he asked, hastening over to her and gently wrapping an arm around her slender frame. ‘Why do you think I would be upset with you? My dear, your reaction has me quite concerned. Speak, child. Tell me what is wrong.’

She sniffled, slowly moving her hands away, allowing him to see her face, but her eyes remained fixed on the floor as she spoke.

‘I don’t want the leading role in the next production. In fact, I would prefer not to have any part in it at all, but I know that would not be conducive to my career, and you have been working so hard to get me where I am today, for which I am ever so grateful, so I thought I could maybe request a smaller role as a compromise.’

Whatever he had thought she would say, this was certainly not it. For a moment, he was stunned into silence.

‘Erik? Please say you’re not upset with me.’

If she had been anyone else, he would have yelled at her that of course, he was upset, how could she willingly throw away all that they had been tirelessly working towards these past few months? But this was Christine, his angel. He had to be more careful and considerate with her. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away. So he took a deep breath and tried his best to remain calm.

‘You are the star of this Opera, Christine. This is everything you’ve wanted, everything you deserve. I simply do not understand why you would want a smaller role now. Please explain it to me.’

‘It’s not that I don’t enjoy it or want it anymore, Erik, because I do, I promise, but I have been spending so much time in rehearsals and on stage lately that I barely got to see you anymore. I was only hoping that if I took on a less significant role in the next opera, you and I could spend more time together again, like we used to.’

For a moment, Erik thought he had misheard her. Did she mean she actually enjoyed his company? That she even preferred it over being on stage? Maybe he was dreaming. No, hallucinating, that was more likely. The idea of an angel like her willingly spending more time with a demon like him was preposterous. Only he could have dreamt that up.

‘Let me see if I understood you correctly. You want to give up a leading role because you want to spend more time with me? Don’t be ridiculous, my dear. I thought you would have figured out by now that my dreary little place five stories beneath the earth is no place for an angel like you. Your rightful place is up here, on that stage, playing the lead. You will not settle for anything less, Christine, I won’t have it and that is final.’

Clearly, that was not the reaction Christine was hoping for. She drew away from him, taking several paces back, her small, delicate hands balling into fists.

‘And why should you get to decide that? It’s my life, my career, surely I should have a say in this as well.’

‘If you were capable of making choices that would be beneficial to your career, then yes,’ he retorted. ‘In this case, however, I think you should leave the decision making up to me, since you don’t seem to know what is good for you.’

‘How dare you!’ Christine gasped, her face now red with indignation, the look in her eyes suddenly more fierce and passionate than he had ever seen from her. ‘Is that what you want? To make all my decisions for me? Well, I suppose I should not be surprised. After all, that is exactly what you have been doing since we’ve met, is it not?’

Is that what she truly thought of him? That all he wanted was to control her?

‘Christine, listen –‘

‘No, you listen!’ she yelled. ‘These past few months, you have been telling me what to do. Not only how to improve my singing, but what to eat, when to come and when to go, how to behave towards Carlotta and the managers. And I have listened to you, let you guide me in whatever direction you liked like a puppet on a string, because I believed you knew what was best for me where my singing career was concerned. But you do not know what is best for me when it comes to my heart, Erik.’

When Erik didn’t reply – how could he, he didn’t even know where to start, didn’t understand what was happening at all – she slowly walked up to him, taking his right hand in both of hers and bringing it up to her chest, right over her heart.

‘I care for you, Erik. So much.’

He wanted to stop her right there, because that could not possibly be the truth, but she held up a hand to halt his protests. She continued, her voice softer now, looking up at him with pleading eyes, pleading for what he did not know.

‘When I am up on that stage, I’m not singing for the audience. I am singing for you. You are the one who gave me my voice, and so every time I sing, I am laying my soul at your feet. I could not care less who else is listening to me, as long as you are there. And I know you are there every single time, I can always feel your presence even when I cannot see you, but sometimes it feels like it is not enough. I want to be near you. I love to sing for you, but I want to sing with you as well. Please let me.’

If it had been physically possible, Erik’s jaw would have dropped to the floor. She could not possibly mean any of this, could she? She was right, he had controlled and manipulated her, even if he did not think of it as such at the time, and still she was here, standing right in front of him, telling him she cared for him?

When the ability to from words finally returned to him, her name was the first sound that crossed his lips.

‘Christine,’ he whispered, his usually confident and commanding voice now trembling with bewilderment, ‘I do not understand. How? Why?’

‘You silly man,’ Christine said, a soft smile playing on her lips. ‘Such a genius, and yet understanding human emotions has always been beyond your grasp, has it not?’

Suddenly he felt her soft little hand caressing the unmasked side of his face. He gasped, trembling under her touch, and before he could say anything her lips were on his.

If she had been softly killing him before, it now felt like she was breathing life back into him with a single kiss. If he had been slowly descending into the darkness of hell, she was now pulling him back up towards her own blinding light. He let out a soft whimper when she pulled back a little, but then she kissed him again, a little more firmly this time, and he finally managed to wrap his left arm around her waist, his right hand still resting over her heart where she had placed it. His whole body was buzzing with an energy he had not felt in a long time, every nerve screaming at him that he was most definitely alive.

Death would have to wait a little longer after all, it seemed.

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 5

“Under the Knife” - Part 5

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3,100-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Talks of Murder, Violence, Emotions, Cursing. Let me know if I missed anything! 

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

As much as you didn’t want to have this meeting with Crawford, you knew that you had to. You had to fill in not only Jack but Hannibal as well on where you were when it came to motive, suspects, and connections. The car ride back to the office was silent as you struggled to focus on case-related thoughts as opposed to the fact that your brother and Hannibal thought you needed backup. 

It wasn’t until you parked in your normal spot at headquarters that you felt yourself slip. 

Do they really not believe in me that much? Will, I can understand. He was wary about me joining from the start. But Hannibal? He was so supportive at dinner. He said that I was ‘wonderful and valuable.’ Why would he say that if he was just going to be watching over me and double-checking my work? I--

While Will seemed to not let his emotions come up often, you were the opposite. You were very empathetic and even though you had spent many years working on getting a better handle on them, you couldn’t help with your emotions got the best of you.

You managed to make it to your office before the angry tears started to spill. 

There were two soft knocks on your office door. You quickly scrambled to wipe your face with the inside of your shirt and grab a few papers that you planned on showing Jack in an effort to look okay. 

“Come on in.” You spoke just loud enough to be heard through the door, hoping it was just a student or delivery and wouldn’t have to turn around and face them. You heard the door slowly creak open a little, Hannibal peeked in.

“Everything alright, (Y/N)?” You let out a single harsh exhale in disbelief.  You kept your back facing him as you picked up a few more relevant papers to add to the growing pile in your arm.

“As alright as they can be.” You cursed internally as you felt the shakiness in your voice betray you. A normal person wouldn’t pick up on it, but you were sure Hannibal had.

“I understand you may not want to talk about this, but I think--” You quickly turn around and cut him off, really not in the mood to hear whatever explanation he has right now for his or Will’s behavior.

“I think Crawford is waiting for us. I would like to get this meeting over with and then go home so I can have an actual meal today. So how about we start moving?” You were sure he noticed the extreme lack of eye contact and the stuffiness in your nose making your voice slightly nasal. You were ready for him to ask about your wellbeing again.

Instead, you saw him nod once and held out his hands. 

“Well then, let's not keep him waiting. May I?” You gladly handed your stack of papers over to him while you picked out one more file and unhooked your bag from the back of your desk chair, in hopes that you could leave right after this session with Crawford. 

~~~~~~~~

“So what we have so far is that Dr. Pencalt was a neurologist with no obvious ties to Dr. Everet, Chasten, or Loreit other than the fact that they all live relatively close to one another. We also now have a potential height range and the small detail that he is left-handed.”

Hannibal hadn’t even shut the door to Jack’s office behind the two of you yet before Jack started talking. He wasn’t even facing you two, instead, he was looking at the board of evidence that now had a few pictures of tonight’s scene on it. Hannibal placed your papers on the desk in front of you as you made your way to a seat. You felt yourself zoning out because of how tired you were. Not only from the lack of sleep, but now your eyes were slightly stinging thanks to the tears that had slipped in your office moments ago. 

While you knew what Jack was saying, you felt yourself zoning out even more. It wasn’t new information and you were so spent. You hadn’t realized how far into your mind you were drifting until you felt a shoe tap against yours, jolting you back into reality. Hannibal had seen the minuscule fade in your eyes as you stared at the stack of papers. He knew Jack wouldn’t handle it well, so he did his best to help you.

You tuned back in as Jack started to turn to now face you two. 

"Dr. Lecter, do you think that this killer sees the spouses as nothing special, or are we missing something involving them?"

"I believe they were merely obstacles that our killer has to get through. (Y/N) said it best. These spouses are nothing more than 'trash that is taken care of.'"

You hated to admit that it hurt that Jack had to verify with Dr. Lecter on your findings. But it was a bit nice to know that Hannibal was on your side despite what your brain was told you back in your office. 

Jack then looked to you, his face not showing the indignation you were sure was bubbling inside him.

“What else you got?”

Slightly rubbing a bit of pain from your eyes, you looked in your notebook, trying to figure out what else to say. You saw a scribble and then reached to your pile of papers on Jack’s desk to try to find the specific ones you were looking for. 

“Well, I started to go through and find all of the doctors that work in any medical field within a 50-mile radius. I then tried to narrow it down by eliminating all of the females.”

“Why disregard females?”

“Because unless one of these female doctors is Wonder Woman, I don’t think any of them would be able to physically disable men like Dr. Chasten, who was a rather large man, by themselves.” Jack just nods his head in agreement and you keep your slowly derailing train of thought going.

“I uh-- I haven’t been able to do anything else with this list because we only just found this dominant hand and a good height range an hour ago. And I’ll be able to narrow down that height range even more when I get the angle of the incision point back from Beverly or Jimmy. But it's at least a start to what we’re looking for. ” 

You look up from your suspect list as you slide it to Jack on the other side of the desk, only to find him looking at you, expecting more. Reaching for your notebook, you fumble through your scrawlings again, trying to find any information that would please him. Hannibal watched your interaction and decided to step in.

“May I ask something?” 

“As long as it's not about my personal life.” You still had your eyes scanning your notebook as you responded. 

“It isn’t.” You looked up from your notes, saw that he was serious, and nod for him to continue. “Why did the bedding stand out to you, (Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“At the crime scene, you said that ‘the sheets are flat.’ What significance does that have?”

“Right. Um… Because it's odd.” Jack confusingly looks from you to Hannibal, who is his normal stoic self but still curious. You see that the two men don’t see what you do, so you pull out the crime scene photos from all of the cases that show the dead doctors in their beds.

“Because the killer fixed them before meticulously placing the various parts of Dr. Pencalt out. He didn’t do that for any of the other ones. And, I also noticed that Dr. Pencalt’s eyes were left open, unlike the others who have their’s closed. It's the first time we’ve seen either of these things.”

“It is also the first time he’s killed in one room, then moved the victim to the bed.” Hannibal chimed in.

“Yes! Exactly. But, the bed still would have been messy from Dr. Pencalt’s rushed exit to the bathroom to try and get his gun. Which means that our killer wanted this ‘sculpture’ of his to be nicer looking than his previous ones.” 

“Why?” Crawford could see what you were saying, be he needed more.

 “I-I’m not sure yet.” 

You looked down at your notebook in slight shame. So when Jack raised his voice and hit his hand on his desk in frustration, you couldn’t help but jump in your seat a bit, causing Hannibal to stiffen slightly. He had a watchful eye on you as he let Jack speak.

“Dammit, (Y/N)! This is why I brought you on. You’re supposed to be able to get inside this maniac’s brain and lead us to him. You’re implying that our killer gift-wrapped a victim at a scene that we have seen now four different times. So I’m gonna ask again: Why is this one so special?”

 “May--Maybe he has some sort of emotional attachment to this vic. O-or maybe this is about his ego and he knows we were now taking this- him seriously. So he wanted to show us a new mosaic that he was proud of, like a child showing their parents a shitty piece of macaroni art that they think is a masterpiece. Or maybe it’s none of these ideas and it’s something completely out of left field that I haven’t figured out. The point is: I don’t know yet, Jack!” 

You didn’t expect yourself to burst like that. But the mix of your personal feelings about Hannibal and your brother, your lack of rest, and Crawford’s accusatory tone had set you off. You focused on fiddling with your ring to try to reign yourself back in and attempt to clock out for the night.

While you tried to breathe for a few seconds, the men just stared. Hannibal was observing you, making sure you were okay enough that he wouldn’t have to physically assist you. Jack on the other hand was silent out of surprise. The two of them had seen Will at his most stressed, but they’d never seen you like this. Jack wasn’t sure how to proceed until you spoke again, much calmer and quieter than a moment ago.

“I need more evidence. We can sit here and spout out theories all night. But without details from whatever the techs got tonight, nothing can stick. So when the gang in the lab has results of any kind or we get more information from the autopsies, then I can reexamine everything I have and get a better idea of what the hell we’re looking for. For now, I’m exhausted, I’m hungry, and need a shower.”

“Are you quitting this case?” Your gaze shot from your hands in front of you to Crawford’s incredulous face; Now worried that he thought you were unfit for this job.

“No. Absolutely not. I want this asshole caught. I-- I just need to rest. I’ve been going almost non-stop since I signed those papers and took the files home. Hannibal can even vouch for me that I was immediately engrossed in this case the moment I got home. I promise that I will be more productive when I can get a sandwich and a few hours of sleep in me.”

You tried to keep your features calm, but you couldn’t help the slight sound of pleading in your voice. You knew you were right and that you just needed a small break. You felt the small sting of disheartened tears fighting their way back into your already sore eyes, hoping that Hannibal didn’t pick up on them. Jack looked to Hannibal for confirmation, getting a silent nod from him. Crawford slowly nodded his head in understanding.

“You’re right. Go home. We will pick this up tomorrow.” 

He motioned to the door. You thanked him and tried to stand up and calmly walk out without showing that one of those irritating tears had slid down your cheek as you turned away from Jack. Hannibal had gotten up and opened the door for you, but before you could pass through the threshold, Jack spoke up. 

“If you do think of anything, write it down and tell me first thing tomorrow.” You just nod and continue out the door, trying to make it to your car before you let yourself cry anymore. Hannibal was going to follow and ensure your safety as he usually did, but Jack stopped him.

“Not you, Dr. Lecter. I need to speak with you about a few things in private. Shouldn’t take long.” Hannibal nodded as he saw you quickly turn the corner towards the elevators. He shut the door and settled back in his seat at Crawford’s desk.

“I take it (Y/N) didn’t like the idea of you being on this case now too?”

“No. I suspect she thinks that Will and I don’t believe in her ability to handle this intense of a case as well as keep herself afloat. I’ve tried to get her to open up about it, but I fear that it may be too soon to bring it up.”

“Do you think she will be able to stay afloat?”

“I do. (Y/N) is a brilliant individual who’s empathic intuitions match those of her brother. That in addition to her curiosity for the abnormal, and desire for justice make her an ideal candidate for this position. However, I believe that she needs time to process everything that has happened over the course of her first 3 days here. She has only dealt with high-profile cases like this one after they have been solved. She’s never been in an active case of this caliber. She is bound to get overwhelmed and think that she isn’t good enough during this first week. I suspect that she will bounce back soon enough.”

Jack wasn’t sure what exactly he was trying to ask, but Hannibal saw the look of confusion on his face and continued.

“(Y/N) thinks that because she hasn’t found anything substantial yet and another body has been found, that she is not good at what she does. When in reality, she is right, we are at a standstill until we get more evidence.” 

At first Crawford wasn’t sure about having Hannibal ride in the backseat through this case. But now he was thankful. Through Hannibal’s understanding of your life outside of the FBI, he was able to remind Jack that you were human and could only do so much without a breather. Something he had failed to remember with Will at times..

Jack stood up and got his jacket that was hanging on the back of his desk chair, stretching a bit as he stood up. Hannibal stood as well, anticipating a dismissal.

“I see. Well, I think we should follow (Y/N)’s example and take the rest of the night to let things settle in. Start fresh tomorrow morning. Our’s killer’s timer is reset; We got less than two weeks to catch this lunatic.” 

~~~~~~~~

You were more than glad to get your keys in your door and finally be able to let your guard down. Your stomach growled as you turned the handle, thinking about the leftover pizza you had in your fridge. Before you could step too far into your apartment, you felt your shoe shift as you stepped on a piece of paper. You thought nothing of it, assuming it was a paper from one of your files that had fallen out, and plopped it on your counter, too focused on getting food heated up and getting out of your work clothes to read over it right now. 

After a quick shower to get the grime of today off of you, you popped some pizza in the microwave and got dressed in your pajamas. As you took the plate out, your eyes settled on the piece of paper that was on the counter. You set down your dinner and walked over to pick it up. One side was blank but the other was a printed out screenshot of an article from the awful tabloid, Tattle Crime. 

“The Virginia Scalpel Strikes Again! - A Deeper Look into the Work of a Killer and the Minds that the FBI Hired to Help Find Him.”

“Why were Dr. Pencalt and his wife targeted by the Scalpel? We still don’t know his motive, but the FBI brought on another member to their team in order to try and help answer some of our dying questions. (Y/N) Graham works within the Behavioral Science Unit at the FBI, but has never worked an active major case before this one. Which may be why we also saw Dr. Hannibal Lecter at the crime scene. We believe that she is shadowing him, learning how to run with the big dogs. The duo could be an almost unstoppable psychological force in the utility belt of Jack Crawford.

Much like her brother Will Graham, who we have talked about on this site before--”

You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, not believing the shit you were seeing right now. Not only did Freddie just do the basic research on Dr. Pencalt that anyone could do from a simple google search, but then she had the gall to try to discredit your position on the team. All because she was new and Hannibal was at the crime scene with you.

You couldn’t read another demeaning word tonight. 

I was shadowing Hannibal?! That’s some misogynistic crap! I don’t even want to know what she has to say when it comes to comparing me to Will. This is a new low for Hannibal or Will. Going to a TC article as a fear tactic to try to get me to resign? Not today, boys. 

You were going to text them and call them out on their bullshit, but decided against it; not having the energy to deal with any more human interaction unless it was absolutely necessary. So you shoved the print-out into your work notebook and tossed it back in your work back, ignoring it until tomorrow.

For now? Pizza, wine, and a good comedy special were calling your name.

[majorbitchwillgraham]

I have yet to think of a title for this fanfiction “Keep it Close to Your Heart”

I wrote a story based on this photo of Mads Hannibal and with inspiration from the primavera scene where Will looks at Hanni’s photo of his younger self :) you know that tradition where couples would send photos of each other if they were apart?

Day 1

Hannibal had said "I will be gone for aproximately a month," a hint of hesitation or consideration for Will barely visible in the lack of expression on his face, "there are two people in that city who might have known I decided to move here, they are the only ones who could have known, and I plan to kill them. But besides from the time it will take me to evaluate the surroundings and find a place to stay, I intend to let time pass between both of their deaths. All of this also asuming there aren't any difficulties." Will notices how he chose to say "dificulties" instead of "complications".

"I can come with you and help you." Will says this calmly, looking him in the eyes and disliking how there's a feeling of concern inevitably starting to form inside him.

"No, I... I don't want to risk you" Hannibal admits, his thumb stroking Will's jawline. Will sighs.

"What about you?" He puts his hand over Hannibal's, "Are you the one being put at risk-- So, are they dangerous?" Will grimaces. Hannibal lowers his hand.

"Not regarding intellect." Hannibal's voice nearly flat, and there almost seemed to be a glint in his eye.

Will is mad at himself after he lets him go. Hannibal can't simply ignore his human vulnerability, no matter how confident he is in his abilities.

Pictures Hannibal being successful without a single complication. Which is the thing most likely to happen. Pictures the dead bodies. Who are they though. Are they good people-- The concern evaporates in seconds, after all this is not the first time Will has indirectly allowed others to be sacrificed in order to save his own skin. Only now it is both their skins. Something he won't hesitate protecting now.

Day 15

It's the first time Hannibal has been gone, like this, since they got together. Of course Hannibal wouldn't have stepped half a mile away when they were still... clouded with that bittersweet uncertainity. Will is pretty much spoiled by now, he realizes, when he gets disappointed at how no one joins him in the shower, forehead pressed against the back of his neck.

Will never thought one day he would feel so calm, knowing the person he waits for is his husband. He takes the dogs out in the morning while he seizes the opportunity of checking their often empty mailbox. He feels silly opening it, "it's only been 15 days, it's not like he's gonna--" and his fingers meet an envelope waiting there.

The envelope had written on it with the characteristic calligraphy Will knows so well: "For you". He is surprised when inside there isn't a letter, but a photograph. A photograph of Hannibal.

Will doesn't really need to question it because he already knows what this gesture means. He probably went into his grandma's box of photographs and found a similar portrait of a young her, and was told "I gave that to your grandfather". This is a gesture that says "Think about me". His eyes begin to smile at the thought.

He almost doesn't notice how his hand holding the photo caresses it a little, while he looks at the expression on Hannibal's face. He isn't smiling. He is looking straight at the camera (who did he ask to take him this picture..?) with a look in his eyes... it has half calm in it, and the other half is the one used for pinning against the wall, only with Will it's with a different intention. Will's eyes go through the strand of hair falling on his forehead, and the softness of his neck. As if the tenderness in his eyes could be felt as a caress along the same path.

He notices the other side of the photograph has something else written on it, with the same calligraphy.

The photo says:

"Keep this photograph close to your heart, knowing I think of nothing but your lips and only look forward to hold you in my arms again"

Will can feel a rush of heat run through him as soon as he finishes reading the sentence. The first thing he can do is let out a brief laugh, breathless, more like a nervous exhale, as he is thinking "are we 1940's lovebirds now?". He is biting his lip and smiling, because it's not that he didn't like it; it's just the immediate defense mechanism that tells him something is too good to be true and so there has to be something funny about it.

In their time together so far, Hannibal's affection had slowly drenched him and soothed him into healing, but Will never expected him to do this. What had he known about love?, all his life people didn't get close enough in the first place, and when they did, it had been "you are cute but you are too weird", "I just wanted someone to pass the time with", "I think there is something wrong with you", and even "I wouldn't be good for you and you wouldn't be good for me". Even with the notable exception of "the person I love isn't even who you really are" which wasn't bad at all, love had never felt real, it felt always like an abstract concept, an alternate reality of something he knew deep down would happen to other people but not him.

When he is holding the photograph Hannibal just sent him, he knows once again that his entire existence since he had met him has been real. What was love now? Looks that don't need to speak a single word, pain that fills two bodies at once. Knowing the face in the photograph and the hadwriting on it match, and realizing you have never feared and loved anyone else more in your life.

Will can't help but close his eyes, the wind is running through his hair and the grass of the field, and the image appears of Hannibal sitting next to a window somewhere, he has barely spoken in the entire day and his eyes are fixed on the dust floating around but suddenly a smile forms on his mouth because he is thinking of Will's lips, he is thinking of him. And then the sensation of unbelievable softness around him, the relief of listening to Hannibal breathing while he holds him.

He carefully puts the photograph inside the pocket on his chest and heads back to the house together with the dogs.

Day 19

Only a few days have passed but he has to admit he really misses Hannibal. Especially because they are not talking on the phone. Hannibal didn't want anyone there to know he was no longer alone. He took the time to send the photograph because he misses him too.

Will put Hannibal's photograph on the mirror of their bedroom, he gives a look at it before beginning a day of work. One day he feels goofy and winks at it, after he is done getting dressed.

And one night as Will had decided to look at it for a while before falling asleep, the yellowish light from the table lamp giving the image just enough clarity, Will looks at Hannibal's mouth and finds himself now imagining how those lips feel kissing on his neck, or how they look starting to suck on his dick. He looks down at himself with a sigh as if that would help the image to form better, then glances at the dogs who are sleeping soundly before sliding a hand down his body.

He looks at that jawline, and imagines himself kissing all over it like he did the other night, Hannibal's hands tightening on his arms showing how much he was liking it.

Now his mouth kissing Hannibal's chest until he finally turns them around and pins Will down, returning to the image of Hannibal going down his body, taking him in his mouth.

Will is breathing heavily at this point, his eyes are closed, the hand holding the photograph has been put aside on the bed, his other hand starts moving faster and he just has to picture Hannibal sucking him off repeteadly until he at last comes all over the sheet that was covering him. He lets out an exclamation as quietly as he can, then waits for his breathing to slow down savouring the last bits of pleasure.

He looks at his hand still holding the picture, and wearily turns his body around to leave it on the bedside table, his feet clumsily discarding the sheets to the floor. Will bites his lip absentmindedly, giving one last look at it, before placing it on the surface and falling on his back, exhausted.

"I'm not sure this is what he meant with 'keep it close to your heart'". Will contemplates earnestly, eyebrows raising, and soon his eyelids begin to become heavy.

As if the picture could move, the last thing he sees before falling asleep is Hannibal looking down away from the camera, almost shyly, with a calm smile.

Day 30

Today is the 30th day. Hannibal could return today, or tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow... For the first time Will frowns about the fact that he wasn't able to tell him an exact date. That doesn't help Will be convinced that he could handle things without complications or being in danger. Will's concerned look gets a hint of sadness as he heads upstairs to grab Hannibal's photograph from their mirror.

"Even without the photograph, I would have thought of you" Will's inner voice speaks as if Hannibal somewhere could hear him.

He frowns a little when he notices the photo is damaged at the edges. If for some reason Hannibal never came back, this would be the only-- woah. There was no reason for fatalist thoughts at that moment. He just had to wait. Besides, he reminds himself with a smirk, what are anybody's chances against Hannibal Lecter's determination to kill you.

Will knows he is married to a monster. As far as the definition goes; but Hannibal changed him as much as he changed Hannibal, and he has taught him that monsters can be beautiful.

A monster was the only one who could see right through him and in many ways truly appreciate the value within him. The only one to see him as a radiance with blood and breath undergoing change and fueling it, instead of just "unstable". Hannibal, in his monstrous way, loved him more than anyone. Will's heart aches at the thought. He knows he feels the same.

Will sits on a chair at the porch and he is holding the photograph, his hand resting on his lap. He looks at the photo of Hannibal and thinks to himself, "my beautiful husband", frankly and without any restraint.

That is when Will feels it, a faint breeze on the back of his neck, his eyes look up from his lap and into the distance, because they are not looking at anything in front of him, it's nothing but an automatic movement that allows the rest of the senses to focus, after all, of all places it's behind him where his eyes should be looking. He puts the photo on his shirt pocket.

The sensation is almost imperceptible and being picked up by that inexplicable part of the brain, the same that knows when someone is looking at you, probably for survival purposes.

What part of the mind senses it, when no sound has been made to alert you? "Could it not be the mind then...but my heart?" Will thinks, because in a couple of seconds he knew it:

My love has returned home.

He gets up with ease and nonchalance from the chair, turns around without any precaution, and Hannibal is suddenly standing there on the porch a meter away from him. A small smile starts forming on Will's lips when their eyes meet.

The smile turns mischievous and Will turns around again, decidedly walking towards the house's entrance and into their home so he can wait for Hannibal behind the main door. Hannibal smiles in a quiet content, as he wasn't entirely expecting this, but goes along with it, following Will's steps and standing outside the door, revealing playfulness just a little.

Will looks at him silently through the screen fabric, before shyly looking down again, like he is waiting for him to say something. So Hannibal begins.

"Kind Sir, I'm just a traveler who is tired after his long journey, would you allow me rest in your home?"

"Well, I have never let a stranger in before... how can I know if you are dangerous?" Will gives him an innocent look, "besides, I live in a humble home. I'm not sure here could be much for me to offer you?"

Hannibal takes a step closer to the door, in a way his faces are only a few inches apart, and Will rests the side of his head against it still looking at his husband.

"...I'm sure a house as lovely as its owner has very comfortable beds to offer. But the most comfortable for me.. certainly must be your own."

Will looks down, mildly overwhelmed and enjoying it, then immediately opens the door welcoming Hannibal in, and they look at each other, now without any barrier. They don't say a word and get trapped in each other's arms; they know this means "I missed you. Glad you are ok". Both their eyes are closed in peaceful enjoyment, Will's mouth rests against Hannibal's shoulder, while he nuzzles against his hair.

When they break the embrace, although continuing to hold each other, Will lays his back against one of the walls of the entrance, enjoying Hannibal's gaze on him.

"Did you.. get the photograph?" Hannibal can't contain himself.

"Yes." Will smiles, "Loved it."

The written message had been precisely tender and never too sweet even for him, and he hadn't absolutely done anything else with it other than look--

"Did you touch yourself looking at it?"

Hannibal is barely smiling and his eyes are blinking in that way only he knows how... Will looks down at his lips for a moment, enjoying how the blood starts rushing downwards.

"Yes." he admits shamelessly, looking him in the eyes again.

Also now he can finally admit to himself how insanely it turns him on Hannibal looking all the way through to the bottom of his skull, or is it just how he looks like he might be ready to eat Will right now, but instead Hannibal slides a hand through Will's hair to gently kiss him on the lips. Delicately like a butterfly posing on a flower, savouring what he hadn't had the chance to in an entire month and had constantly desired. Will's trembling hand slowly lands on the side of his neck, fingers curling against it as they begin to kiss painfully slow.

[starting-now]

All the Time (Barry x Reader)

-REQUESTS OPEN-

Word Count: 2224

Warnings: none

Summary: THERE’S. ONLY. ONE. BED. 

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

Personally, you didn’t understand why Gene insisted on this trip, other than to make more money from the class. It honestly felt childish, sitting on a bus with your acting class, your best friend Barry sitting next to you. It felt nice though, simpler. 

“Where do you think we’re going?” Barry interrupted your thoughts and shot you a curious glance. 

“I’m not sure, but I WILL bet you fifteen bucks that it’s a museum and somehow there’s a picture of Gene in it.” you said, smiling at him.

“What?” Barry was taken aback “No way! How could Mr. Cousineau get his picture in a museum?” he asked

“So you take the bet?” you retorted, raising your eyebrows.

He hesitated but reached out his hand, you shook it.

“You’re on.” he said.

Gene was sitting at the front of the bus and he stood up in the aisle, making a motion for everyone to direct their attention at him.

“Alright guys, we’re getting closer to our little surprise, I just wanna remind everyone that this is a team bonding exercise! So mix, mingle, and remember this is an overnight trip so you are still paying full price for today as well as tomorrow. We’ll be there soon.” he said and promptly sat back down.

You rolled your eyes and grinned at Barry, who returned the look. You loved seeing him like this. So relaxed and happy. You had been there for the bad days, and you loved to see him having a good time. Plus, he had the most adorable smile.

“Is everything okay?” Barry questioned, meeting your gaze.

“Yea of course why do you ask?” you returned.

“I don’t know you were just looking at me weird.” he laughed and you promptly turned away. 

“Sorry, just zoning out.” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the color rising to your cheeks.

The old bus slowly came to a stop and you all looked out the window to see exactly what you had expected. A museum. The Hollywood Museum to be exact. Barry whipped his head over to look at you, eyes wide and a smile breaking out on his face.

“You called it!!” he said and you shrugged

“Hey, that was only half the bet.” you reminded him, and gathered your things to get off the bus.

Everyone filed off the bus and walked into the museum. Your classmates, especially Sally, marveled at the props, replicas, and stories of fame that they all so desperately wanted. You and Barry hung towards the back of the group, taking everything in. 

You walked through the vast rooms filled with various elements of Hollywood. Batman and Robin suits, Marylin Monroes clothes, and even a replica of Hannibal’s cell from Silence of the Lambs, which you were particularly excited about. 

Barry watched as you bounced from prop to prop, beaming and explaining why certain things were important or interesting, and he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading on his face. Normally, this wouldn’t be his cup of tea. He wasn’t great in social situations most of the time, but with you, things were different. You made him feel safe and…well, normal. As normal as someone like him could ever feel. 

You of course, didn’t notice the look of complete adoration on Barry’s face as you spoke. You had always assumed that your feelings were unrequited, and you certainly didn’t plan on bringing them up to him anytime soon.

As Mr. Cousineau reached the end of his self guided tour, you caught up with the rest of the group and shot Barry a defeated look. 

“Guess I owe you. There’s no picture of Gene here.” you said.

But before Barry could respond, Mr. Cousineau cleared his throat loudly.

“Now if you turn your attention to our last stop, this is a photo from the set of Forrest Gump. And if you look closely about ten rows back from the Washington monument, you will see yours truly. No big deal. But that is me.” he proclaimed proudly.

It was almost impossible to see, even blown up to the size of the museum wall. But it was him. You turned to Barry with a shocked expression which he mirrored. 

“Holy shit.” you both said in unison.

Sasha started asking questions about how he got to be in the movie to which Gene responded that it ‘wasn’t important’ and that’d he be ‘taking no further questions at this time’. Only Gene M. Cousineau would drive his students four hours away just to flex.

Barry slipped you fifteen dollars on the way out of the museum as you loaded up on the bus and headed for the hotel.

Once you arrived there, everyone was given their room and it was left to you all to decide who you’d be rooming with. 

You of course wanted to ask Barry, but you weren’t sure if he’d say yes. You resolved that you’d wait for him to come to you. Unfortunately Barry had the same thought process, so you both stumbled around until you were the only two left. You smiled awkwardly at one another and Barry grabbed the key to the last available room. As he turned around to walk towards the hallway, a nervous grin threatened to form on your face.

Barry opened the door and you wheeled your luggage in, propping it up against the wall before getting a proper look at the room. When you entered fully you noticed something that almost made your heart stop: there was only one bed. 

Barry trailed in behind you, taking note of the same thing and stopping in his tracks. His eyes scanned the room for a couch or anything else he could sleep on, but to no avail. The room had a large desk, two chairs, even a microwave and a mini fridge. But nothing to sleep on besides one queen size bed. 

You and Barry shot each other a nervous look.

“I can just crash on the floor. I really don’t mind.” Barry said, not meeting your gaze and rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s ridiculous.” you said, “I don’t mind if we both sleep here.” you finished, gesturing to the bed.

You didn’t have anytime to discuss it further before Gene called everyone down to the conference room in the lobby for some team building exercises. You smiled awkwardly and left the room with Barry just behind you.

The team building went by quickly, your mind mostly distracted by the interaction earlier. Still, you had fun doing the various improv and team games that Gene planned. But sooner than you’d like, it was over, and you were all free to go back to your rooms. You were one of the last ones out and you were a bit surprised to see Barry waiting for you just outside.

“Hey,” he started “Sorry if this is weird, I just really wanna make sure everything is okay with the sleeping situation? I mean, the last thing I’d wanna do is make you uncomfortable.” he said, fidgeting with his hands.

You smiled politely “No it’s really no problem, trust me.” you said.

If only he knew why you were nervous. He wouldn’t be worried about making you uncomfortable. But you couldn’t tell him. Your friendship was too important, and you were worried that it would be ruined when you found out he didn’t return your feelings. But you weren’t about to let him sleep on the floor. So you swallowed your anxiety and tried to remain as calm as possible. You told Barry that you’d meet him back at the room and you stopped by the vending machine. 

Barry was in the shower when you got back to the room, so you set up the table with the snacks you bought. He came out of the bathroom, dressed for bed in a grey t-shirt and lounge pants, a smile lighting up his face when he sees your set up. Barry could be a picky guy food-wise sometimes, but you knew the one food he loved the most: Famous Amos cookies, and you had bought out the vending machine’s entire supply. Barry burst out laughing.

“No way, (Y/N)! Oh my god! This is awesome!” he beamed. 

“Please Mr. Berkman, take your seat. These cookies are not going to eat themselves!” you joked and sat in one of the chairs, grabbing a bag yourself and cracking it open.

“You didn’t have to do this.” he said, more seriously.

“Eh don’t worry about it. It was your money anyways!” you laughed as Barry realized you had spent all $15 from the bet on vending machine cookies. You two ate as much as you could and packed the rest into your bags for a later time.

It was your turn to shower and change and when you got out Barry was already sitting on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV. You joined him and he shot you a smile. You wished it could be like this all the time. You loved being around him, everything felt so easy, so right. You leaned back against the headboard and turned your attention to the tv, though you were thinking about other things. 

You had been sitting much closer than this in class and on the bus but this felt…different. You peeled back the covers and slid under them, making yourself comfortable. Barry did the same, both of you not speaking much besides the odd comment here or there about whatever garbage TV you were watching. Eventually though, you drifted off to sleep, and Barry turned the television off so as not to disturb you and attempted to sleep himself.

A few hours later Barry felt something against his skin that awoke him. Slowly getting a grip on his surroundings he realized that you had turned over, your arm slung over his chest and your head nuzzling into his arm. He stiffened, for fear that he might wake you. He relished the feeling of your skin on his, the smell of your shampoo and body wash, and he felt himself sinking into your touch. A smile spread across his face again, as it so often did with you. He wished it could be like this all the time. He sighed and felt you stir slightly.

You woke up to feel something very…warm against you. To your embarrassment you opened your eyes to find that you were wrapped snugly around Barry’s body, face nuzzled into his grey sleep shirt. And whats worse…he was awake. You immediately pulled your arm back.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” you laughed awkwardly, cheeks flushing vibrantly “This is so embarrassing. Um, wow, Im sorry, I promise I didn’t mean-“

“No no, I mean, it was nice.” Barry interrupted you and your breath hitched. 

“R-really?” you asked

“Um, yeah actually, really nice. If you’re comfortable like that.” he said

You hesitantly placed your arm back around him, laying your head next to his. He turned to look at you, his eyes twinkling with the moonlight that seeped in through the window.

 Barry took in your facial features. He’s not sure if he’s ever been this close to you, but he couldn’t get enough of it. And maybe its the tiredness, or the intoxication of your presence but somehow he manages to say it.

“You are so beautiful.” he says and immediately flinches as though even he didn’t know he would say it.

You search his eyes for some kind of joke, but you find none, and one of your hands comes up to cup Barry’s cheek.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask.

He just nods, as he’s not sure he can handle saying anything else at the moment. He can’t help but lean into your touch. You slowly move your head towards his and he does the same, both of you still unsure but letting it happen.

Your lips connect. It is a soft, timid kiss. One full of worry and fear of rejection, but also full of desire and hope. You both become more sure and deepen the kiss. Your hand slips into his dark hair and his arms snakes around you. It’s everything you thought it’d be. His lips were soft, and his calloused hands were gentle as they found their way around your body to pull you closer. 

You broke apart, both smiling. 

“Wow” he whispered.

“Yeah” you returned.

“Listen, I um-I really like you, if that wasn’t obvious. And I guess I just wanted to tell you that, so that you know for sure.” he said nervously. 

Your smile grew wider “All this time I thought I was the obvious one.” you said and pressed another soft kiss to his lips.

You positioned your head to lay on his chest, your legs intertwining, his arm wrapped around you. He knew his arm would fall asleep, but it was worth it. You found yourself drifting off to sleep yet again, comforted by his heartbeat, the fresh scent of wood and pine, and by his fingers swirling nonsense patterns onto your skin. Barry did the same, soothed by the feel of your skin against his, the weight of your head on his chest, and you arm over his waist.

You both wished it would be like this all the time.

And it was.

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

Speechless (part 2)

Summary: your hands are tied and you don’t know what to do to avoid Will from being framed for the murders of the copycat killer. You go to see Jack with lots of things on your mind.

 Pairing: Will Graham x reader

 Warnings: swearing, angst, panic attack

 Word count: 2842

 Part one

The sound my heels made on the floor on the way to Jack's office was deafening, my feet sinking so hard I could find petroleum. I was stiff and nervous but determined, on my way to the big talk, like a soldier going to the battlefield. I was definitely wearing my armor, even if I meant figuratively. I needed to be sensible. Control my emotions, my demons, try to make Jack see the mistake he was committing.

I was desperate. I knew it wouldn't be enough, but I had to try, I couldn't avoid the urge that said Will was innocent. I believed him with every breath in my body and, with the risk of sounding dramatic, I was willing to do everything I could if it meant he could stand a fighting chance. I finally reached his office but, as I raised my hand to touch the doorknob, the door opened. I stepped back, taken by surprise, only to see Hannibal Lecter smile lightly at the sight of me.

"Ah, Y/n. Here to give the statement about Will, I suppose." He was always so polite. Carefully suave. I knew Alana found that appealing but I just found it... I don't know... Stiff, maybe? Also, he had that look in his eyes sometimes, unnoticed by the others. Like he was reading your soul somehow, as if he was some sort of lost cunning deity. I knew him for a while now, almost as long as Alana's, but I never felt like I truly knew him. Not like I knew Alana, or even Will. He was like a huge puzzle, one you keep joining the pieces without having any idea of what it will become.

"Hello, Hannibal. Yes, I am." I grimaced, sounding more insecure that I'd planned. He observed me for a moment in silence, seconds that felt like hours.

"You look like you’ve been through a lot these last few days.” He said, sounding condescending “Which is completely understandable. Will told me in one of our sessions that you two were very fond of each other. I’m sorry it has come to this.”

I noticed he lowered his voice and spoke figuratively so Jack couldn’t hear him, and thought that was quite considerate. Jack probably knew ages ago, nothing escaped the guru, but even so, it was thoughtful.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I replied, trying to smile.

Hannibal took a deep breath as a cue to leave, and I just accepted it, nodding my head as a farewell sign and entering Jack’s office.

“Y/n?” Hannibal called, making me turn to face him. “You should come over for dinner some time. No one should go through what you’re going alone.”

I once again smiled, even though I didn’t want to.

“Yes, I will. Thank you very much, Hannibal, that’s very thoughtful.” I said in almost a robotic voice, unwarm as a winter breeze. He nodded once with his head, finally leaving. I closed the door, finally sitting at the chair in front of Jack’s desk. He stared at me silently a few seconds, making me frown. At last, he just sighed, rubbing his hands over his face in a tired way.

“I know that look of yours. You don’t have to lecture me, Alana already did. That’s not why I called you here.” He started. I didn’t react, waiting to see what that was all about. “Will was at your place yesterday, wasn’t him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Spare me, Y/n. Don’t you know I had eyes at your house? Do you really think I wouldn’t consider it?” He raised his voice, making my body sink on the chair. “The acceptable choice would’ve been to call me. I’m dealing with a lot right now, the bureau’s on my back. Do you know what happened because you didn’t consider pick up the phone and call me? Will almost shot Hannibal Lecter at the Hobbs’ house.”

“What?” I felt my heart pump in my chest, rising up of the chair. “What happened? How come I’m only hearing about this now?”

“I just came back from Minnesota. Will’s in custody at the hospital, where he’ll be treated of his encephalitis and a gunshot.” He explained, and started to tell me everything about the last few hours. I felt my whole body go numb, his voice sounding like I was under water. I sat back in the chair because I knew my legs wouldn’t hold me up for much longer.

“He’s accusing Hannibal of the crimes of the copycat? For framing him?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Is this going to be investigated?”

Jack hesitated, but finally agreed with his head.

“We won’t exclude any possibilities, but Y/n, you might have to accept the fact that Will’s no longer sane. Or maybe he was the whole time, which is the possibility I don’t want to face.” He leaned back in his chair, sighing. I felt my temper rise, and knew I wouldn’t hold on much longer.

“And who’s fault is that, Jack?” I asked in a dark tone, raising my eyes to face him. “Who’s to blame on this? Because we warned you, Alana and me. We told you not to put him on the field, not to push him too far. But you didn’t listen to us, not the almighty Jack Crawford, the guru. As long as Will could find the bad guys, he was okay, right? Everything’s under control, isn’t that what you told me when I said Will wouldn’t hold up much longer? When he practically begged you to quit and you coldly manipulated him? When you used his altruism to keep him grounded to you? What did you expect, Jack? You treated him like a machine, but he’s just a person. You failed him…

“That’s enough, Y/L/N!” He slammed the desk, startling me. “It was up to Hannibal to define how Will was in his sessions with him, and we didn’t see it before it was too late. Until he called Hannibal because he woke up puking the ear of Abigail Hobbs. You think I wanted to pick up the phone and hear the news?”

“If he’s right about Hannibal, then he wouldn’t say a thing, would he? Not until it was convenient to him.” I said, avoiding to face him. He raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair in surprise.

“You think he’s right? Just like that? Just because he said so?” He inquired.

“I don’t know, Jack!” I yelled. “What I can’t understand is how everyone’s just accepting he’s the copycat killer when he claims he didn’t do it! I understand, there’s evidences, but you worked along with him for the past months, and you know he’s never wrong. What if he’s not wrong this time either?”

“Listen to what you’re saying, Y/n. You’re allowing your feelings to misjudge the obvious.”

“Or maybe I’m not taking your plan of finding a guilty part to the copycat killer so easily.” I regretted the words that came out of my mouth as soon as I closed it. My eyes watered up, and suddenly I felt like a little spoiled girl who had her whims denied.

Jack’s face turned bright red.

“That’s it, Y/L/N. You’re too involved, you’re compromised. I’m taking you out of this case and I want you to leave my office right now. You broke my trust the moment you didn’t pick up the phone and called me when you saw Will, I can’t have you in my team if I don’t trust you anymore.”

I felt myself start to swell like a balloon, getting up from the chair.

“You can’t do this.” I said, disbelieved.

“I just did. Go home, Y/n. Let some sense go through your head. Come back when you’re thinking clearly.” He waved his hand dismissively, and I just couldn’t move. I kept starring at him with a huge amount of feelings going through me. Anger, sadness, despair. All sides of the same coin. After a few seconds I commanded my legs to move, turning my back on him and leaving his office without another word.

 I barely know how I drove home without a car crash, but as I felt the door shut behind my back, my condensed emotions found their way out of me. I took the first thing I saw, a fancy china my mom gave me, and threw it across the living room, feeling an enormous satisfaction as I heard it explode against the thick wall. It felt so damn good. I walked to my glass table and lifted one of the chairs, shattering it. Took a painting out of the wall and ripped it to pieces.

As I continued, in a few minutes my living room was half destroyed by my fury. Cushions tore apart with a kitchen knife, goose’s feathers everywhere, broken chairs, a lot of glass. One of my feet with a cut from it, so a little bit of blood as well. I was so angry I felt exhausted, sitting on the sofa. My blood pressure was definitely low, I couldn’t breathe properly, was sweating like a pig, my legs felt weak. I was trembling like a newborn. What else could I do?

I covered my face with my hands, trying to control my breathing. Sobs shook my chest, making it impossible to hold still. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my throat. My lungs were burning.

I recognized the panic attack too late to try to avoid it, so I just allowed it to take over my body, hoping it would go away quickly. It lasted a few minutes, but it felt like hours. I felt like I was under the sea, cold salty water invading my lungs and cutting my air. God, please, make it stop. I wasn’t religious, but when your mind wrongly assumes you’re about to die, you don’t care who you appeal.

For a moment, I heard Alana’s voice in my mind. He’s too unstable right now, Y/n. Be careful, Y/n. Don’t get too involved, Y/n. Words that I knew it came out of concern, several warnings I ignored. Jack was right, I was compromised. There was no turning back now. I allowed myself to be utterly compromised for Will Graham, and what’s worse?

I would have done it all over again.

 The sound my boots made on the floor of Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane was deafening. I could feel my heart pumping in my ears as I gave my personal belongings to the guards. Policy. I wasn’t supposed to bring anything unauthorized near the cells that could offer danger of some kind.

I felt this bitter taste in my mouth as I slowly walked down the single hall. Will was in the last cell. It was the first time I saw him outside the hospital, first time I saw him behind bars. I tried to ignore how my guts twitched inside of me, my hands sweating.

I finally reached the last cell, looking to the man sitting on the bed. Will seemed to be far gone from there, like in some kind of awake dream. His eyes were void as he stared the floor, his elbows were up his knees and his hands were together, his fingers intertwined.

“Hi, Will.” I came closer, carefully stepping behind the line on the floor. He took a while to notice my voice but, as he raised his head and looked at me, I had to bring every strength I had in me not to burst into tears. He was caged like an animal for crimes he didn’t commit, and I wasn’t even near of proving it. I won’t give up, though. I knew I would find a way.

“Y/n.” His voice sounded melancholic, but I could see in his eyes that he was happy to see me. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I should. I’m here to see you.” I smiled lightly. He looked miserable, lowering his eyes and avoiding my face. “How are you holding up?”

He gave me a sarcastic laugh that made me shiver.

“Well, you should be optimistic. Soon I’ll prove you’re innocent and you’ll be out of here. And you’ll be able to see your dogs again, and I’m sure Winston is going to be so happy to see you. He keeps coming back to your house, you know. Waiting for you.”

He tried to hide it, but I saw that shadow of a smile. Then he just sighed, still avoiding to look at me.

“You should go home, Y/n. Don’t waste your time on me. I’m in a dangerous game right now, I don’t want you to have anything to do with it.” His voice was deadly cold and I felt it on my chest like a sledgehammer.

“Two can play this game.” I insisted, receiving no answer. “Will, look at me.”

He ignored me, his eyes still watching the dirty floor of the cell.

“Look at me.” I asked with a firmer voice, attracting his attention. “Don’t treat me like a porcelain doll. I knew what I was going into. I still know, I’m still here and I’m not leaving you. I’m not giving up so easily, be sure of that.”

He hesitated, but then smiled.

“You’ve always been stubborn.” He said in a tired, but fun tone. I noticed his hair was a little bit longer, starting to reach the back of his neck. I found that adorable, like a little halo of dark hair.

“Yes, I have. And I don’t plan to stop any time soon, so you better get used to it.” I said with humor, preparing for the news I was about to give. “But if you really think that's concerning, I'll bring it to my psychiatrist. Maybe he'll guide me on that.”

Will's little smile vanished, he became instantly serious. Aware.

“Psychiatrist? What psychiatrist?” He asked, but I was sure he already knew the answer.

“Ah, that's the news I was going to tell you. Hannibal apparently saw I was in shock for everything that happened these last days, so he agreed on seeing me once a week, despite the unethical side of this. So it's not really an appointment, it's more like a friendly chat. Poor little me, right? In shock.”

Will's eyes were as wide as I supposed it could be, almost jumping off his head. He got up the bed, grabbing the bars of the cell.

“Y/n, are you out of your mind?” He asked in a hushed and mortified tone. “Don't play games with Hannibal Lecter. You will lose. What do you think you're doing?”

“Me? I'm simply recovering from a very traumatic situation. I had Jack's approval on this, he agreed I needed professional help and Alana said she couldn't because of professional standards. As Hannibal and I are not very close, he agreed to see me once a week unofficially. Sounds familiar?” I chuckled, but Will looked like he was about to tear the bars apart. Like a caged lion in the zoo.

“You don't know who you're dealing with. I know you want to help me, but you won't do any good if you're dead. Which is precisely what's going to happen to you if you don't step back on this, Y/n. Please. For me.” He practically begged, his blue eyes searching my face for agreement. I looked once to the security system and to the guards at the end of the corridor and took a few steps forward, crossing the red line.

“Ma'am, stay behind the line!” One of the guards ordered, but I ignored him, binding my body to Will's as much as I could despite of the bars. I could feel his warmth, his smell, his touch. We raised our hands in a simultaneous move, feeling our fingers. I took his hand and kissed his knuckles, hearing the guard open the grid. He kissed my forehead and I quickly pressed my lips against his.

“Please. For me. Just tell me you'll sit this one out.” He asked at the same moment strong hands took my shoulders, pulling me away from him. I remained silent, my eyes watering up. “Y/n!”

“Do you trust me?” I asked as the guard insisted on pulling me out. Will didn’t have time to answer, and I just gave in, allowing the guard to take me out of there.

I knew I wouldn't be able to say goodbye. To leave him there knowing that he was trapped, knowing that whoever did that to him was still on the loose. And possibly killing people, or planning to do so.

If this person were really Hannibal Lecter, I'd find out. And when I do... I'll unleash hell on him. That was a promise, an oath of vengeance. And, as Will said, I was a very stubborn girl. I wouldn’t give up till I bring him justice. 

I couldn't remain speechless. And hell, I really wouldn’t.

@emmalbg