#Lambert oneshot

[justanoasisimagines]

Jealously

Hey my lovelies back with another jealously headcanon! My requests are currently open and my request guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Lambert is a jealous person. It comes from a territorial nature. He's possessive of you. Lambert doesn't have a lot of people in his people in his inner circle, so he's protective of them. However, it's magnified when it comes to you.

❀Lambert is abrupt in his jealousy. He becomes confrontational and agitated when he feels like his back is up against the wall.

❀Lambert can get snappy with you. The two of you have argued about Lambert's jealousy. Sometimes he reads too much into things. You are the one to try and reassure him. Lambert has already sat and stewed about the situation. The argument is explosive as you try and get him to see sense.

❀When both of you give each other space to calm down. Lambert doesn't calm down, instead, he goes to confront the reason for his jealousy. He's furious. There has been conflict between the two of you. He's now worried perhaps it is too far this time., he's fearful you're going to leave him.

❀Although you're not going to leave him. You know he needs space to calm down so you can then proceed to talk about it rationally.

❀Except Lambert isn't thinking about it rationally. He's steamed full ahead to the man who caused a rift between the two of you. He's called to the man before engaging him in a fight and now Lambert can't stop. He's not going destroy the individual. The others try to pull him off of him but it's no use.

❀There's only one person who can make Lambert stop and that's you. With a shout of his name, he stops and turns to face you. Your face is mixed with worry and concern as you approach him. Lambert's fierce anger has subsided as he leaves the man and steps towards you.

❀Neither of you says a word, but you have understanding. You understand Lambert better than most. Over the years you've learned to communicate through actions and body language, with an outreached hand, Lambert places it firmly in his.

❀He knows he shouldn't react like this. however, when you love someone as much as he does every feeling is magnified. It's when you're patching him up do you both have that talk.

❀He promises to not use his fists again unless necessary. Lambert refuses to allow anyone to hurt you. However, you remind him sometimes his presence is enough to warn anyone off. He also has nothing to fear because you're not going anywhere.

[doormatty3]

MASTERLIST

Minors do not interact!

Always feel free to message me about whatever you want - yes, I also take requests! I write smut for men I'm feral about ~

Check out my Ao3!

ONE-SHOTS: newest to oldest

Set Nerves - Patrick Wilson x Reader: How intimate scenes do not work in Hollywood 101 Onions and Orgasms - Orm Marius x Reader: You laugh about Orm’s horrible kitchen skills, and he shows you with what he *is* skilled The King's Broodmare - Orm Marius x Reader: Orm *makes* you submit to him and turns you into his perfect pet Echoes Of Madness - Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader: Josh is possessed and possesses you with his cock A True Gentleman - Patrick Wilson x Reader: Patrick teaches you to be quiet while taking his cock Dirty Little Nun - Patrick Wilson x Reader: Patrick gets on his knees and makes you worship a different type of god

SERIES: newest to oldest

Whispers In The Shadows Josh Lambert x Reader:

Pushing Further - And they were roommates - except you fucked his dad Veiled Passions - Josh shows you who you belong to Pushing Further: Josh POV - How I fucked his friend in a college dorm room Veiled Passions: Josh POV - I show her who she belongs to

MULTIPLE CHAPTER FICS: newest to oldest

Ocean Eyes - Orm Marius x Reader: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock FINISHED, CHAPTER 8/8 Sinner's Salvation - Ed Warren x Reader: Ed shows you how well he can possess your body - and your cunt FINISHED, CHAPTER 2/2

ONE-SHOTS: newest to oldest

Till Next Time, Love - Matty Healy x FOC: Matty puts the cock in cockiness and does what he does best

[sunnysunshine18]

❤️💜💚

[lovelyghostz]

Guys look I made a headcanon/story for COTL

Lamb wants to pierce their ears so they do so with the infinite time they have in between regular cult duties. They make some cool looking earring and they love it, taking good care of the piercings. And then they die on a crusade.

They wake in Narinder’s domain just as they always have, and they’re chatting with TOWW (or more accurately chatting at him) and they go to fiddle with their earring as a new fidget they’d picked up, and there’s.. nothing there?? They kinda look confused and start feeling for the small holes in their ears and they’re just gone. They seem genuinely lost for a moment before it clicks, and they look up at Narinder, annoyed.

They accuse him of sealing up their piercings when they died, and he responds with an exasperated sigh, explaining that any bruise, bump, or break of the skin Lambert had upon death would have healed up the instant they died. They scoff at the explanation, trying to reason with Death. They insisted that there was no way the healing process couldn’t find the difference between a wound and a carefully placed piercing, but TOWW simple gestured towards their ear in a way to say, “clearly not.”

After their complaints had died down and the Lamb stood with crossed arms and a sour look, Narinder sighed, leaning down and reaching out towards them with large, skeletal hands. He took their ears, one in each hand, and made the smallest puncture on each one with the very tip of his boney claw. He then leaned back, smiling down at the Lamb softly, and they honestly couldn’t tell if he was smiling because of his work or for them.

With their face flushed slightly they stuttered out a thank you, feeling at the slightly larger but surprisingly well-done holes in their ears. Narinder’s lower two eyes looked away, his third locked on them with a slightly larger pupil than the others.

For what must have been the thousandth time, he told them to rise for resurrection. This time felt better, though. Less of a command and more of an offering. Of course, that feeling wouldn’t stay, they were his vessel, but it was nice to see that part of the God of Death. A gentler side.

Lambert decided that they would have to find more excuses to worm that side out of him.

Ok thats all thanks

[diabolimeservavit666]

Real Question Here

Should I create a side blog for my iZombie content or should I just add it to the clutter on my main one? I have five years of pent up ideas, fanfic concepts, headcanons, etc. all lodged in my head and, of course, by the time I was emotionally ready after that god-awful finale to start creating content, the show wasn't popular anymore. Well, I don't care if all I get is three likes as long as it gets out there. Fair warning: I am a huge shipper of Liv x Peyton and Steve x Ravi so you will be seeing a lot of that. And as someone who hated the finale, I'm just going to ignore it's existence because I have created my own in my head. Anyway, I guess I should put a poll here so...

[nyxthedragon225]

im so obsessed with Tide jrwi

he reminds these kids thhat theyre more than just property of WATCH (the way he wishes someone did for him) he takes care of these kids and keeps them safe (the way he couldnt for his little brother) he gives them gifts and happiness (the way heros SHOULD)

like sure it started as some stupid babysitting assignment but then he met these battered and broken children who were being abandoned by the people supposed to protect him and by god is tide going to do right by them no matter what it takes

[gilded-gheists]

would you still love me if I wrote a Tide x Harlem fic and called it 'The Silhouette of Water' -

[v33n4-c4rn1s]

♡︎⋆｡COLD STORM ｡⋆♡︎

veena lambert x mare torres

I need more of them.....

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Mare was at ease, laying back on the sofa and watching some shitty movie, he was in that tiny piece of heaven, relaxed and calm with his arm around..a pillow? well, that's not right at all! after all he's normally with his beloved but now he's realized..she's no where in sight.

"vee-? veena?"

He gently called from the living room, turning his head around to see if she could be in the kitchen..but she wasn't. where was she? I mean surely he had made sure she was alright? could she be in the bedroom? where on earth could she..

His mini panic was cut off by a loud banging, turning to the source of the noise he immediately jumped back, standing at the window was a huge bat. Flapping it's wings and hissing, baring it's teeth and headbutting the glass.

"HOLY SHIT??"

He had never seen ANYTHING like it. It was huge and it looked angry..he looked around in a panic, trying to figure out where his girlfriend was while also worrying about the huge bat! until something clicked in his head. The bat wore a tiny jewel, a ruby..veena could shift into a bat whenever she pleased..

She had told him she was heading out for the night for food.

She had told him to leave the window open.

She had told him about the storm tonight.

Oh dear.

He'd locked her outside.

Suddenly, as the thought dawned on him he rushed over to the window, opening it up and allowing her in, with a flick of red dust there she stood. Absolutely drenched and extremely pissed off.

"..veena I'm so-"

"Are you fucking kidding me!? i TOLD you I was going out! I said to open the damn window!? you knew I was out!! you KNEW that!! and there i stood in the shaking cold!! giving myself a concussion so you could notice and let me into my OWN fucking home!!"

She stopped herself, breathing out an angry sigh before pushing past him, she left marks on the floor from the rain, she was violently trembling and shivering, she shuffled down to their bathroom before slamming the door.

Mare didn't like the way this went down, he never meant to lock her out, he loved her, he would never do anything to harm her or her well-being. He sat down on the sofa, he wasn't sure what to do. Had he ruined their whole relationship? Was she going to turn around and leave him in the dirt? he didn't notice his own tears, when he did he completely caved, crying into his hands. his tail twitched at the fact she had yelled so loud at him, he felt she was reasonable for being upset but yet..it shook him.

Veena had successfully managed to calm herself, shaking off the water and changing her outfit into a more..warm one. she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt..guilt. Mare hated being yelled at, he hated when a voice was raised and she had raised hers, she stared at herself for a few moments before her little thought train hit the breaks. What was that noise? muffled and raspy..oh. She had made him cry.

Veena shook of the rest of her anger in remarkable time. She cracked open the door and slid out..sure enough there he was, head in his hands as tiny sobs shook his larger frame.

"oh you.."

she muttered, taking gentle steps over to him, sitting herself down and resting her hands on his.

"i-i didn't mean to leave you- honest! I just-"

Veena shook her head, Sliding his mask off and tilting his face towards her. His eyes..a very gentle purple. His face, scarred and burned, had such gentle tears streaming down the patched skin. She used both her thumbs to wipe his tears away, his hands reached up to hold her wrists in place, keeping her there.

"shh..no more, I shouldn't have yelled.."

She hummed softly, placing a gentle kiss on his nose, His eyes closed as he gently whimpered, trying to stop his crying.

"i-im sorry- i-.."

"I forgive you, it was just an accident.."

She used a part of her strength to pull him down, she laid herself down against plenty of cushions, tugging mare down to rest on her chest, her fingers threading through his hair, she sighed softly as she felt him completely relax in her hold.

"mm..you know i love you.."

Mare simply baa'd, muttering a gentle..

"i know..I love you too.."

They weren't sure what time they fell asleep but it was quick, they slept well and comfortable.

The raindrops patted the window, gently easing the two into the quiet of the night.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

the cuties EVERRRR, ugh I love them bro, seriously they just fit so well :[

[thirstyhoesupreme]

As promised, here's my Dalton Lambert x reader one shot. Let me know what you think? :)

- daddy x

[avatar-anna]

would you ever write about harry and y/n finding out that they’re pregnant again with charlie 🥺

yes!

(for context: in a recent oneshot in this universe, it is revealed that harry and reader have a seventh and final child when they're in their thirties)

It would definitely be that cliche of Y/n and Harry going to some red carpet event, and Harry sees Y/n all dressed up and is just like...

"Fuck, Mama, must be the luckiest man in the world."

Y/n blushed and looked down at the gown she and Harry Lambert picked out some time ago. Being a mother of six, she didn't dress up much, but when she did, she tended to go all out. Perhaps part of her wanted to relive all the proms, homecomings, and formals she never got to go to, but she appreciated the art in a beautiful garment too.

The one she wore now fit her like a glove, the lace, almost handkerchief-like bodice draping over her shoulders beautifully, and the rest of the black-as-night velvet hugging her hips perfectly.

Harry was never one to shy away from paying his wife compliments, but each time he did, she felt it right down to her core. Every sweep of his gaze over her body, every earnest word, every searing touch, it all lit her up from the inside out.

This time was no different, so when Harry tried to unzip Y/n from her dress, she didn't notice at first, too caught up in his touch. Once she did, she tried to make lame attempts to ward him off to at least claim that she tried later on.

It was safe to say they were on each other all night. Whenever he could, Harry pulled Y/n away, desperate to get his mouth on her. It was no easy feat with the considerable length of the dress, but he never seemed to care or mind. All night, they whispered back and forth to each other, toying with jacket lapels and bare arms.

"You need me again, Mama?"

"Where's the zipper on this thing?"

"Quickly, while no one's looking."

"Keep your hands away from my tits, H."

"Don't act like you don't love it."

All night they went back and forth. Teasing and giving into each other and sharing stolen kisses when the cameras weren't pointed in their direction—though the next morning they found out they weren't as discreet as they originally thought, with photos of them in the background kissing and Harry's hands all over Y/n cropping up online.

At some point during the night, a friend even asked where Harry and his wife kept disappearing to, another if that was a hickey on his neck, and both of them stumbled through a lie as they blushed furiously.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when Y/n's period was late, but it does. She thought she had put her pregnancy days behind her, so she went to the doctor thinking she had some kind of stomach bug, only to find out that she was pregnant. Y/n wasn't upset by the news, just caught off guard, though she couldn't help but daydream about having a little baby in the house again now that her other babies were growing up.

Harry found out on accident. Y/n missed a phone call from the doctor's office, and they called Harry's number, which was also listed in her information. Thinking someone got hurt, Harry picked up in a panic, only to hear, "Hi there, Mr. Styles! We're trying to get a hold of your wife to reschedule her ultrasound. Will the following week work?"

Harry answered in a daze, agreeing to an appointment time and date without really listening. Part of him knew he should be excited, but all he could think about was why Y/n hadn'told him yet.

"Anything you wanna tell me?" he asked later that night. They were both watching TV, a show they'd been watching every night before bed the last few weeks. He'd been itching to get Y/n alone all day so he could finally ask what the phone call, and after picking up and dropping off at friends' houses and volleyball practice and study groups and one big family dinner, now was finally his chance.

Y/n hadn't caught on yet, so she just shrugged. "Collette is convinced she's going to Paris Fashion Week by herself, and I don't have the heart to tell her she's not going without one of us."

This was news to Harry, but he tabled that conversation for later. "I got a call from the OBGYN's office. They asked to reschedule your ultrasound."

Harry could feel Y/n stiffen beneath him as she sighed deeply. Before she could say anything, though, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," she promised, kissing away the furrow in her husband's brow. "I wanted to tell you and the kids at the same time. And you know how hard it is to wrangle everyone up. Maeve wasn't even at dinner tonight."

"Oh." Harry had spun a number of different answers Y/n might've come up with, but that hadn't been one of them. "Do you...want to keep it?"

Y/n could tell Harry was asking for her sake, not his. He'd been dying for another baby for years, slowly giving up hope every time she turned him down. Now that they faced the prospect of actually having another baby, though, he didn't want her to feel pressured. He never had, but he wanted to make extra sure.

"Honestly? Yeah, I do," Y/n said, resting her and Harry's hands over her belly. "I'm just...kind of shocked."

"Really?" Harry asked. Now that he'd had time to think about it, about which night in question could've been the one, he wasn't that surprised at all.

"Yeah, I—I guess I thought that part of my life was over. But... I'm glad it isn't. I'm excited about this."

"Me too."

Y/n gave him an amused look as if to say, you finally got your wish. But all she said was, "You just like that I get super horny when I'm pregnant."

Harry gasped dramatically, which made Y/n toss her head back and laugh. "That is not even remotely true. Maybe. Sort of. It's perhaps in the top ten things I'm excited for, but not the first."

"You're ridiculous," Y/n said, shaking her head at her husband. "And I love you."

"I love you too." Harry leaned in to kiss Y/n, the feel of his lips on hers more familiar than anything else in the world. He knew every part of her, every inch of her body and soul, and she knew his. It was comforting, it was home.

"Any chance those hormones have kicked in yet?" Harry murmured jokingly as he kissed her neck.

Y/n held her husband by the back of his hair so she could look him in the eye. "Absolutely not. I love you, and I love the twins, but we're not doing that again."

"What? Come on! We're way past that window," Harry reasoned. "And the doctor said it was rare."

"Yeah, so is getting pregnant at my age, but here we are."

"At your age?" Harry asked incredulously, looking down at Y/n through heavy lidded eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were lit as she watched him, the way they always were when they joked around. He was pretty sure no one amused her more than he did, and that was saying something considering the collective craziness their children engaged in regularly. "You're just winding me up, aren't you? You want me to remind you how young and fun we are."

"I don't know if that's—Harry!"

"Shh!" Harry said as a laugh bubbled out of Y/n as he yanked her down until she was lying flat on the bed, her arms pinned high above her. "Do you want them to hear you, Mama?"

That sobered her up a little, her laughter subsiding. Then, she smiled up at him, her hand reaching up to cup Harry's cheek. "We're having a baby."

Harry's grin was immediate, excitement filling his whole body from those four words alone. "We're having a baby."

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

[kiko---random-stuff-probably]

Small idea for a narilamb oneshot

Lambert returned from their crusade, moving their head to fix their neck. It was really, really a tiring expedition, but they returned with enough bones and materials for what the renovation of the camp. Everything was...

- LEADER! LEADER! YOUR SPOUSE HAS CLOSED HIMSELF INSIDE THE TEMPLE AND REFUSE TO GET OUT!-

Oh for fuck sake. Lambert quickly recollected themselves. - Do not worry, my child.- they petted the follower -I will speak to him as soon as possible.-

As they walked towards the temple, they tried to guess the reasons for that. A fight with his siblings? Did he just got stuck? They laughed at the thought, but then the crown detected Narinder's thoughts: They will kill me. I messed up. Why do I keep messing up?!

They fastened their pace, and basically broke down the temples door.

Naridner was near the altar, holding something between his arms, as he walked in circles.

- Oh, Lamb.- he said with a calm voice that didn't fit with his thoughts or expression.

- Don't you fucking "oh lamb" me. What the hell is happening?!- they closed the door behind them, as the cat fixed the little bundle in his arms.

- Patience is one of the most important virtues for a god. So, let me expl...- the bundle let out a little cry, as a baby poked their head from the fabric.

- YOU STOLE A BABY?!-

- Listen, you were the one who said you wanted one! Besides, I didn't steal her.-

- Where did you find that?!-

The cat got silent, and looked away, before mumbling - I may have... resurrected a random kid from he void...-

- What-

- But look at her!- a prideful glimmer shined in death's eyes, as he showed the little baby (an honey badger with totally black eyes) to the lamb - Perfectly healthy, putting aside the lisht corruption that she has... but one of my best works!-

- Naridner, hand me the kid.-

The cat hissed and just hugged the baby.The badger let put a weird noise.

- Nari. Hand me the baby.- the lamb stayed there, hands out - Please.-

Narinder hesitated, before letting the lamb hold the baby.- You know we can't just keep her. You just resurrected a random soul and she's...- the baby turned around, nuzzling herself against the lamb.

The lamb stayed there, staring at the little, precious life in their arms.- Nevermind if Shamura or circle head say anything I will tell them to suck my dick.-

[justanoasisimagines]

Sweetheart

Hey my lovelies, back with another love letter. My requests are open and you can find my request guidlines pinned to the top of the page! Also if you have any Autumn/Halloween requests send them in! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

I hate to be away from you, but work is work and it gives me the opportunity to provide for you in hopes we can comfortably. I don't want you working all hours at the Tavern. I have seen how the owner and the patrons treat you. It isn't acceptable love. No one needs to speak to someone that way. To treat you as if you are less than. I don't want you working there anymore which I've been working so hard. I want to help you make your dreams come true. I want you to set up your stool on the market, to say your wares. We could travel together this way. I wouldn't have to be away from you all summer. Then in the winter, we could retire to Kaer Morhen. As almost like a break at the end of a long year. You've always loved in there in the snow. Perhaps, we can find a space in the castle so we can get away from the others from time to time. They are my family, but we need our privacy. I'll be stopping by in the next moon cycle or so depending on work. I love you, Lambert x

[geraskierfanficprompts]

When Jaskier's angry or upset, it's always "Don't touch me!" "Get away!" "Hands off!" And then the bard will be gone for hours or days until he calms down.

Now, Geralt understands this kind of reaction. He himself doesn't want to talk to/be around others when he's angry. Much less let anyone touch him. The thing is...Jaskier acting that way never fails to make Geralt feel like shit. Jaskier is usually so affectionate that the sudden cut off is jarring. The first few times it happened, Geralt had been sure that Jaskier was fed up with him and leaving for good.

However, Jaskier always returns. They make amends, and the bard resumes his touchy, affectionate ways.

One day though, they have their worst argument yet. And although he had always come back before, Geralt is certain that this is the time Jaskier will leave forever. If Jaskier walks out that door, Geralt is sure he will never see him again.

So, unthinkingly, Geralt catches the bard's wrist.

Jaskier's eyes widen, panic replaces anger. "Geralt! Let me go! Let me go right now!"

Geralt loosens his grip reflexively in response to Jaskier's panic. Did the bard think the witcher would force him to stay?

He opens his mouth to try to explain.

Only, the world is...spinning? And Geralt's tongue is heavy. And everything is warm. Oh, he feels like he’s going to hurl.

Then, he passes out.

An unknown amount of time later, Geralt wakes. He feels kind of hungover but is otherwise fine. To his relief, Jaskier is sitting at his bedside.

When the bard notices Geralt is awake, he inquires after his health. At Geralt's reassurance that he is fine, Jaskier launched into a tirade about the number of times he had told Geralt "NOT TO TOUCH ME WHEN I’M MAD! AND THAT INCLUDES RIGHT NOW, YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH, YOU BASTARD!!!"

Geralt is a bit confused about how Jaskier being mad and his fainting spell are connected.

Two things are revealed:

1) Jaskier is part fae.

2) Some fae become toxic to touch when they are angry or upset. It is a magical trait, so it fades when the anger does. However, it can still be deadly.

This puts some things into perspective. Like how Jaskier, who seems to feel entitled to his emotions/reactions no matter how inappropriate they may be, is very skilled at cooling his temper. Or how, when he does become angry, he chooses verbal slander over physical violence. Or how when there IS a physical fight Jaskier wraps his hands in cloth and tries to use blunt instruments.

Bonus: Geralt tells all of the witchers not to touch Jaskier when he's mad, and Lambert takes that as a challenge.

I LOVE THIS!!!!!! OH MY GOODDDDDD!!! You take the things we spoke about and add onto it like putting glitter on a macaroni art craft, it's beautiful, It's so beautiful, oh my god! Poor Geralt thought his bard was leaving and poor Jaskier has to watch his stupid idiot Witcher touch him, gAH I love it! I want to read a 5k oneshot about it

[darling-i-read-it]

Protection

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: the frat party, a guy being really creepy about flirting and mentions of roofies, descriptions of vomit (briefly), spoilers for insidious 

Author’s Note: I started and restarted this a bunch of times but couldn’t figure out a way to do it that I really liked. I hope this is okay for right now, I appreciate you guys giving me your ideas! Requested: by anon, Heya I love your Dalton Lambert fics brw Had 2 ideas and was wondering if 1. you could write a headcanon/oneshot for Dalton Lambert x Reader where she's all shy/timid when they first meet and then the whole floating away and demon attack thing happens and he wants to protect the reader and from there, their relationship escalates? 2. Smut/Slightly suggested hc for Dalton Lambert x Reader or a relationship HC for them pla You don't have to write both but just had some ideas Requested: by anon, Ello!!! Can you do a fic for Dalton Lambert x Reader where Dalton is kinda like protective if the reader please? The reader is probably round the same age if not a couple years younger and is shy and all but does warm up to him eventually I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator (not my gif)

Dalton’s eyes followed you as he gazed from behind his hair. He had seen you around the building, specifically the floor he was living on. There was a living room area that no one ever actually used at the end of the hall and he had run into you there once or twice, usually in passing. He didn’t realize you had a class together until the second week of class, when he saw your face attentively listening in the back of the classroom. Your lips were pursed with concentration but were so focused on the teacher he didn't think you could see anything else. That’s why he felt so comfortable starring; he truly believed you had no idea. 

The class droned on. It was a gen ed requirement that he would google the answers to. He could sit with his sketchbook open and lightly brushing his pencil over the paper. He didn’t realize he was drawing you until he looked down. He was then made consciously aware of how he saw you. Poised, shy, timid, pretty. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” the professor said, breaking you out of your perfectly sculpted listening gaze. Your eyes went wide with what Dalton assumed was fear. “Do you know the answer?” He looked back up at the board. Some slideshow with a lot of numbers, none that made any sense to him. When had he stopped taking notes? 

You looked down at your own notes. You knew the answer but for some reason it was stuck in your throat. You cleared it, attempting to force the word out of your mouth. You had to look away before you could answer. 

“237,” you offered, voice quiet. 

The professor’s gaze was predatory. Dalton didn’t like the way he was gazing at you, like you were something to be conquered, someone to be broken down. He had never enjoyed the teachers who leached into clearly shy students. The professor nodded, moving along, giving you neither a praise or a follow up question. Your face was now glued down. He had clearly startled you out of your shell. 

When class ended, Dalton got up first. He didn't have as much to put away because he wasn’t actually paying attention. He weaved against the flow of traffic to the back of the room where you were carefully placing your things back into your bag. 

“Don’t worry about him,” he said, without thinking. He should’ve thought twice about letting you know he was watching you but the words had already escaped his mouth. “He’s a dick.” You looked up at Dalton, eyes pretty and doe like. You cleared your throat, another instance of forcing yourself to speak when no words were coming out. 

You nodded instead. 

“You live in the same building as me right? Miller Hall?” You nodded again, this time a sound coming with it. 

“Yeah. Dalton right?” Your voice was still quiet but he smiled at the reassurance that he was also noticed. 

“Yeah. Y/N?” You nodded back at him. You stood up from your chair, putting your bag over your shoulder. “Are you going back there? I don’t mean to ask in a creepy way, swear.” He chuckled nervously. “I was just heading back and was wondering if you wanted some company.” Suddenly he was the shy one. He felt like cowering under your gaze, revoking his invitation and running out the door. He tried to remember what his mom had said about making friends. All he had right now was Chris and she had other friends. He needed to branch out. Branching out could help him with his sleep issues. 

“Sure,” you said finally, voice surprisingly pleasant. “This is my last class today.” He smiled, all teeth and gums, while he moved out of the way so you could go first. 

“Me too. I took way too many early classes.” 

“Same,” you said. You walked out the door and he followed quickly behind to keep in pace with you. It was a nice fall day, leaves falling down and gathering in the grass. Weeds were overgrown, no one was lingering out in the cold. The walk back would be uneventful but peaceful. “How do you like the building?” 

“It’s fine. We live too high up for my taste.” 

“And the elevators are always broken,” you said. 

“Yes! That should be illegal when there are so many floors.” The comradery broke some tension between the two of you. Your smile lost some tension. 

“Do you have a roommate?” you questioned. 

“I did but not anymore. Her name’s Chris so we got mixed up on the gender assignments,” he explained. “You?” 

“Not currently, no. I was lucky and didn’t have anyone to start with.” You held your bag close to your side. Dalton weaved through the cobblestone walkway that had quickly become familiar to him. “The building settles a lot at night. It can get spooky by myself.” 

“I hear that,” he muttered. “I still have a nightlight.” He wasn’t sure why he had admitted that you didn’t give him any crazed reaction. 

“It can get dark,” you admitted. Your lack of judgment made him feel a little bit safer as the walk continued. He wondered how many doors down you were. He wondered if maybe you would be up for a sleepover later in your friendship, just so that neither of you get scared anymore. His mind wandered and he didn’t reel any thoughts back in as you asked him about his art. 

-

Dalton enjoyed hanging out with you. He hadn’t known a person to sit quietly with him while he worked and you worked and you both just enjoyed having someone else there. You would walk down to his room, bare feet padded on the hardwood floor, and knock on his door, with your textbooks tucked under your arm.

You got the spare bed while he sketched, playing some music quietly from his music. This is how you would spend time together. Talking when necessary but never feeling pressured to. It was easy to get lost in silence when Dalton got zoned into his work. 

Chris opened the door without knocking.

“We should go to the frat party tonight,” she announced instead of saying hello. You and Dalton looked up. You even jumped at the sudden change of atmosphere. You were nose deep in work. You had met Chris in passing and knew she was friends with Dalton. She had always been kind to you, if not a little invasive. You didn’t mind here though. 

“All of us?” you asked, voice quiet. 

“I think you need to get out of your shell. Both of you. You’re so preoccupied with things going on in your brain it seems like I can never get you to hang out like normal people.” Dalton shared a wary glance with you. 

“I don’t know Chris,” he said. 

“I do.” She took a step forward. “What’s the worst that could happen? You get drunk and have to come home? It’s boring and we leave early?” 

“Frat parties have never exactly been safe for girls,” you told her, caution laced in your voice. 

“I’ll be there,” Chris said. 

“So will I,” Dalton said, with more umph. You met his gaze. There was a glaze of protection over his eyes that made you feel better about going. It also left you with a small warm pit in your stomach, something akin to appreciation or adoration. You gave him a warm smile. 

“I don’t know guys,” you said. 

“C’mon. You have gotta get out eventually. Why not sooner rather than later?” 

Dalton gave you a look again. He was asking you with his eyes if you were okay with it. After spending some time together in silence, you had gotten used to reading each other's expressions. You shrugged. He narrowed his eyes. You opened yours wider, shaking your head in disinterest. 

“Okay no more Jedi mind talk,” Chris said. “Yes or no?” 

“We’ll go,” you said. Dalton tried to hide his surprise. 

“Sounds like we’re going then.”

-

The frat party was loud. It was so loud that you could barely hear yourself think over the people screaming at each other, stumbling over the furniture and spilling drinks onto the ground. It was slippery and unwelcoming. It was nothing you had ever actually experienced before. You tried so hard to keep yourself out of these situations so you didn’t have to be uncomfortable for an extended period of time. 

You found yourself standing closer to Dalton, as close as you had ever actually been to him. There is something special about being stuck in an unwelcoming space and becoming even closer with people you wouldn’t have otherwise been so close with. Chris pushed forward. 

You found a mostly empty doorway and gathered like you were going to make a game plan or something. 

“Let’s be nosy upstairs,” Chris said. You immediately cramped up with the thought of someone walking in on you being in their space. “We’re already here. Why not? You wanna stay down here?” Chris questioned. You could tell she was trying to be helpful. You really liked her and appreciated her excitement but was already way too far out of your comfort zone. 

“You can go. I can go find some crackers or something,” you said to Dalton. He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. 

“I can stay with you.”

“No, no. There could be something up there that’s fun. Bring me down a present.” He shared a glance with Chris. 

“See? She’s giving you permission Dalton, let’s go.” You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved him forward a little. He looked back between the two of you but Chris was already grabbing his arm. “She’ll keep her phone on.” She dragged him by the arm upstairs. 

You turned back to the crowd. There were a few people there you recognized from class but no one you were friends with. You cleared your throat and straightened your back. You could do this. You could be a college student who goes and gets a shitty drink and lurks in the background. 

The kitchen was less packed, which you were grateful for. There were straggled, circling the kitchen island. There was a bunch of finger food that you didn’t exactly trust. You found a punch bowl, which you didn’t trust either, but grabbed a solo cup anyway. You tried to slink back, not make too much attention as you waited for Chris and Dalton to come back down. 

You walked back towards the main room where the music was being played. You bumped into others who paid you no mind. The dance floor was the best for people to watch. There were girls there with pretty makeup and interesting outfit choices. They danced, eyes closed, smiling with each other as they drank. The boys watched as well, eyes traveling further down than yours were. 

“Hey.” You turned around, not noticing at first that someone was talking to you. “You’re in my 201 math class right?” 

A boy you didn’t recognize was leaning against the wall beside you. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to place his face. He had a dirty expression on his face that you didn’t like. He was taller than you, looking down and it felt like you were cowering. You shook your head. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“No, I think you are. With Straus?” Maybe you just didn’t pay enough attention to your fellow students in that class. You grabbed the solo cup tighter, holding it to your chest. You thought of all the stories of boys slipping things in girls drinks while they’re unaware. The haunting thought lingered. You suddenly wished Dalton was around and then was startled with how deep your connection with him was. You hadn’t known each other long but you supposed it was just something about living with no real friends in a new environment. 

“It’s a big class,” you lied. He gave an exaggerated nod. 

“Yeah tots.” He moved closer to you. You took a step back and hit the wall. You glanced up to the stairs, unable to find a familiar face. 

Upstairs, Dalton was laying underneath the bed of Nick the Dick. He could see the bathroom through his eyeline, the feet of a boy that should not be there. The puke pooled on the ground, next to his weathered shoes. Nick was standing at the mirror, saying something stupid that Dalton wasn’t listening to. His breathing was weathered. He looked at the door, wishing Chris to come save him, wishing he had brought you upstairs. 

What is that? 

What is that? 

Nick opened the door and left. He crawled out from underneath the bed feverishly and looked up, just to be met with the boy's face again. This time he puked all over Dalton whose eyes shut in surprise and disgust. He scrunched his hands together, trying to throw aside the vision. 

The door opened. Chris emerged. 

“Dalton?” He looked over at him. “Dalton? Are you okay?” He looked back up. Nothing. Nothing. He took a deep breath, eyes still wide and crazed. He got up. Chris was still talking but he pushed past her, mumbling something about how they needed to leave. He barreled down the stairs, pushing past someone as he went. 

He looked across the room. He was still reeling from whatever happened in the bathroom. All the faces looked like a blur. He searched for something familiar, needing to find the face he was looking for. 

Finally he eyes set on you. You were in the corner of the room, being boxed in by some guy he didn’t recognize. The man had an arm over your head, leaning in real close. He could see your face from behind him. 

Dalton pushed forward. He put his hand on the man's arm. You were immediately relieved to see him, even though all the color had drained from his face. 

“What’s going on?” Dalton asked.

“Nothing man.” He noticed the firm grip you had on the top of your drink. This man’s words were not slurred. He was sober and Dalton decided he was dangerous. 

“Is he bothering you?” Dalton asked, eyes going back to you. You didn’t say anything. Your voice remained dead in your throat. If you couldn't talk in the best of times, you couldn’t talk now. 

“Everythings fine,” the guy promised. 

“Let’s go,” Dalton said. He still had cold sweats running down his face. 

“Woah. We were having a conversation here.” Dalton met the guy's face. He didn’t recognize him and he knew his thought process wasn’t sound. He punched the guy anyway. 

You gasped, taking a step back. The guy stumbled back but Dalton had already grabbed your arm and pulled you back into the crowd. It was too loud and no one noticed that there was now some annoyed man trying to follow you through the party. Chris was at the front door waiting. You met her eyes. 

“What happened?” she asked, trying to keep up with Dalton’s fast paced walk. 

“Some guy was scaring her.” 

“Huh?” 

“He was being a lot,” you promised. Even as you walked back towards your building, Dalton’s iron grip was on your arm. 

“What happened before that?” Chris asked. Her voice was stern. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Don’t worry about it right now. Let’s just get back.” You glanced back at the now fading party. You couldn’t see the guy anymore. Dalton had a hard look on his face that you had never seen before. 

“We actually do need to talk about that,” Chris said. “Something happened in there.” 

“We don’t need to get into that,” he promised. He stopped in the middle of the courtyard. You glanced around the dark night. Campus was mostly silent. You saw the security cart go around the corner. 

“You punched someone!” Chris said. 

“He was bothering her!” he said. 

“But what happened to you up there!” You looked between the two of them. He took a deep breath. 

“I saw someone in the bathroom that wasn’t there. I’m having sleep issues.”

“Were you sleeping?” you asked, genuinely concerned. He shook his head. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. He turned his body toward you completely. You nodded. You wouldn’t tell if you actually were. You felt invaded and uncomfortable. The feeling lingered around like that man was hiding behind you. 

“I’m okay.” He grabbed your hand. 

“Are you sure?” You nodded. Chris looked between the two of you. 

“Positive,” you promised. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t but he didn’t say it. He knew that you and Chris would hound him and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He didn't know what he felt about anything right now. 

He nodded. 

Chris rolled her eyes. 

“Are you gonna buy that?” 

“For right now, yeah,” you said. Dalton gave you apologetic eyes. You held his hand, comfortable with it there. Chris took a deep breath. 

“Alright fine. Are you gonna be okay tonight?” He nodded, looking back at her. She nodded slowly and turned to the building. It wasn’t far now. “Maybe we all just need to go to sleep. They spiked the punch or something.” He didn’t want to mention he had nothing to drink so he stayed silent. She gestured for you two to follow her. 

Your hand remained in Dalton’s. He was holding onto it for dear life as his mind reeled. He had the sudden urge to talk to his mom but he pushed it aside. He was a grown man now. He could deal with this alone or with his friends. You took the elevator, that was gratefully working. Chris stopped off at her floor and gave you both goodnights and I’m sorries. 

Finally you were on your floor. 

“Thank you for helping me back there,” you said. You had been meaning to say it but the words kept getting stuck in your head. 

“Of course. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you,” he said. 

“Same.” You walked down to his room. He wanted to drop you off but you kept going past your room, no conversation needed. Neither of you wanted to sleep in a lonely room. He pushed open his door, the silence so loud. You sat down on the spare bed. 

“I’m gonna get changed,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay. I don’t think I wanna be alone right now.” 

“Me too.” He grabbed some clothes and walked to the bathroom. 

When he walked down the hallway he thought about how he wasn’t there for you when you needed him. He had been upstairs, scared of his own accord. Something could have happened. He slowly undressed behind a shower curtain. He could’ve stayed and asked you to leave but he didn’t. 

Whatever this was, whatever was going on in his head, he had no intention of getting you involved. 

None. Not if it meant hurting you.

[highlordofkrypton]

Thank you so much for the tag @zenkindoflove, I freaking love being tagged in writing games!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 32 (To think I started??? This year??? Or end of last year???)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 271,982

3. What fandoms do you write for? ACOTAR & DC Comics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Regrets (Superbats, DC Comics)

Little Secrets for my Soul (Batjokes, DC Comics)

The Lighthouse (The Aquaman Family, DC Comics)

Wildflowers (Tamsand, A Court of Thorns and Roses)

The Justice League's Mom's Book Club's Guide to Vampire Slaying (Martha Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, Hippolyta & Atlanna, DC Comics)

5. Do you respond to comments? Always! My readers made the effort to comment on my fic, so I will absolutely respond with the utmost enthusiasm. It means the world to me when I get comments.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh, it's absolutely Wildflowers. I mean, it's canon ending so does it really count?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think most of them have happy endings, especially the oneshots. If they're not happy, they're some kind of tender, or sweet. I do think Regrets has the most upbeat ending.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes. More and more lately. I would say I write the kind of smut that makes you question yourself (and I haven't even dived into the kinkiest kinks). Are you confused? Yes. Do you know what happened? No. Do I know what happened? No. Were we all entertained? HELL YES.

9. Do you write crossovers? I didn't name my blog home of the crackships for nothing. I LOVE crossovers. I have a few on my AO3, but so many on my to-write list.

10. Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope! Not formally. I do roleplay with a partner. I tried to re-write one of ours as a fic, but it's soooo tricky.

12. What is your all-time favorite ship? SUPERBATS SUPERBATS SUPERBATS. At least, if we're talking something that has a fandom. If we're talking my fav ships forreal, it's Lambert x Gojo Satoru x Clark Kent, Orm Marius x Clark Kent x Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen x Hal Jordan x Komand'r, Lilith x Eskel, etc.

13. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? None that I know of. I usually circle back and/or can be swayed to finish one.

14. What are your writing strengths?

Details. I think I have a few. I get weird fixated on details that I think make the writing feel more 'lived in' and immersive.

Side characters. I think I'm very good at creating intriguing side characters that you'll get attached to. My trick is that the character is fully developed with their own story before they appear on my page. How else will I get their interactions down, even if it's for a chapter and they're never seen again?

Humour. I literally cannot be serious. I have to shitpost halfway through my story.

15. What are your writing weaknesses?  

Pacing. I am impatient, I wanna get to the juicy parts, but some stories need to cook a little before getting to the fun stuff. I tend to use the excuse that since it's fanfiction, I can #yolo and post.

I cannot write something short for the life of me. Everything needs to end up being multi-chapter, I'm TIRED.

Smut. It's not raw enough. It's not filthy enough. I need to let go and be less formal about it. Just dig right in and have a meatier writing. I just don't think my current style fits pure smut. It does fit trying to fuck an eldritch horror and soul-shattering orgasms tho 😂 But sometimes, I just wanna go to pound town, not achieve self-actualization through butt stuff, you know???

16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I have some foreign words in my Illyrian fic, and I am fluent in french. I do hate seeing other people write dialogue in different languages SPECIFICALLY FRENCH, so I won't be doing that.

17. First fandom you wrote for? A Court of Thorns and Roses.

18. Favorite fic you’ve written? I have different favourite ones for different reasons.

I like cosmic bloom because it's unhinged smut.

I like Regrets because it's my first ever Superbats fic and got so many kudos!

I like Wildflowers because it's my first story I ever wrote from start to finish.

I like Needle & King because it's healing a lot of trauma to write it, and I get to discover my identity and explore lore/worldbuilding that I've been putting off for ages.

NO PRESSURE TAGS: @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @praetorqueenreyna @achaotichuman @arson-09 @unanswered-stars @matrixsss @watcherintheweyr @witch-and-her-witcher @chunkypossum @foxcort @positivelyruined @angelosearch @goforth-ladymidnight @themildestofwriters

[cinebration]

Something…Human? (Geralt of Rivia x Reader) [Request]

Hi, good day ❤️ if you're not busy, can I ask a Oneshot about Geralt x reader, but the reader had some sort of weird personality like Wednesday addams. And the two of them meet, after she saved both him and Jaskier from getting killed by a monster? Just thought it would be fun to have a creepy yet sarcastic reader. Hehe thank you and happy new year!—Requested by @binibining-mariaclara​

I didn’t watch Wednesday; I was too busy watching 1899.

Warnings: none

Gif Source: lamberts

When the dust settled and the smoke cleared, Jaskier a coughing wreck off to his left, hacking up a lung, Geralt surveyed the damage. The rotted wood of the strange barn-like structure had given way from the combined weight of the witcher and the bard slamming through it just as the burning thatch of roof collapsed atop the alghoul. The Jaskier-as-bait method had worked well in luring the monster into the building, but the creature’s thrashing had destroyed two crucial support pillars, knocking Geralt off-balance in the process and sending his igni sign into the thatch-covered roof.

The whole structure had caved in atop the monster, trapping it beneath rafter beams and the burning roof. From the lack of painful screaming, Geralt guessed one such beam, had knocked the creature unconscious or killed it instantly.

The wind picked up, whipping the fire into a frenzy and shoving smoke in Geralt’s eyes. He turned away, vision blurring for a moment. Beside him, Jaskier wheezed again.

“Next time…you decide to slam your body…through me…to destroy a wall,” the bard gasped, “give me a little warning!”

Geralt stood, moving with the lithe grace of a feline on high alert. “That wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t you? Then why was I pinned beneath you?”

“Shut up,” Geralt hissed.

“No, no, no, you don’t get to tell me to shut up when I want answers. What were you thinking!?”

Firelight bounced off Geralt’s sword several meters away, dropped in the unexpected collision with the wall. The witcher scanned through the heat waves and smoke billowing off the structure, looking for the creature that was causing the hair on the back of his neck to prickle.

“Your dagger.”

Jaskier spat soot-coated saliva onto the parched grass. “What?”

“Give me your dagger.”

Alarm sent a spasm over Jaskier’s features. “What? Why?” He fumbled for the blade strapped to his belt, all but yanked the sheath off with it.

Grabbing the dagger, Geralt peered again through the smoke and flames, his wolf medallion vibrating slightly against his chest. The magic wasn’t powerful, not much stronger than one of the signs he wielded. The force that had sent him through the wall—and Jaskier with him—didn’t feel all that dissimilar from the aard sign, he realized.

“What is it?” Jaskier whispered, ducking behind Geralt. “Is the alghoul still alive!?”

“No.”

The wind shifted a fraction, stirring up the fire once more. The smoke whipped past Jaskier and Geralt.

A dark shape shimmered behind the heat waves.

“Then what is—oh, gods.” Jaskier went silent, arrested by the illusory form. “That’s not courage curdling at all.”

The shape moved.

Jaskier darted back behind Geralt as the witcher tracked the shape’s movement around the collapsed structure. It disappeared behind the smoke, reappeared when the wind flattened the black cloud, drawing nearer.

“That’s far enough! We’re not worth your time!”

Geralt ground his teeth, keeping himself from barking at Jaskier to stay quiet. The figure stepped past the distortion created by the heat waves, stepping through the smoke plume as though unaffected by its acridity.

The bard relaxed as you stepped into view, no longer a shimmering silhouette but fully illuminated by the flames. Shadows played over your face, swinging between softening your features and sharpening them into something unnerving. Geralt remained poised for attack, searching for signs of aggression, anything that would presage you wielding violence against him and the bard.

“Neat with the fire,” you said, your voice strangely monotone. It grew inflection as you continued. “I can’t imagine an easier way to demolish a barn. If it was ever a barn.” You glanced over your shoulder at the pile as though appraising it for its barn-like qualities.

“Hullo,” Jaskier called, mustering up a smile. “That wouldn’t happen to be your barn, would it? Because we very much did not intend for this mess. But we took care of the alghoul, so what’s a little old barn compared to a monster rampaging at night?”

Your gaze moved from him to Geralt with a sharpness that sent an uneasy shiver down the witcher’s spine. His grip on the dagger remained firm, ready for blood.

“Oh, you took care of the monster?” You rolled your eyes. “And here I thought the burning roof did that.”

“Well…we may not have delivered the killing blow, but the fire was Geralt’s, and we lured the creature inside anyway, so yes, we took care of it.”

“Does he always talk this much?” you asked. “He ought to make a living with it.”

“For your edification,” Jaskier snapped, “I am a bard and—”

“Nevermind, I see you already figured it out.” You fixed your gaze on Geralt again. “And you must be…the witcher everyone keeps talking about. They sing songs about you, you know.”

“Thanks to me.”

“Oh, there he goes talking again.”

Jaskier huffed, scrambling for words. The faint curve of a smirk touched your lips, your eyes still trained on Geralt. The humor didn’t quite reach your flat eyes.

“What are you?” Geralt’s voice rumbled deep in his chest.

Jaskier stilled. “She’s not…she’s not human?”

You sighed, the sound both heavy and bored. “Everyone on this continent needs new material. You all seem to be recycling yourself. Everywhere I go, it’s the same. ‘What are you? You’re not human.’” A sound of disgust emerged from your throat.

It sounded disingenuous.

“What are you?” Geralt repeated, edge lining his words.

“Bored.” You feigned a yawn. ““Witcher this, witcher that.’ I followed you for entertainment, and what do I find? You both in need of rescuing.”

“Wait…you sent us through the wall?” Jaskier stepped past Geralt. “Do you see how massive he is!? I’m lucky I didn’t break anything!”

“Next time, I’ll let the monster win.” A brittle smile pulled at your lips, an eerie flicker in your eyes. “That would be more entertaining.”

Jaskier reared back a step, Geralt shifting so the bard wouldn’t stumble into him. The wolf medallion had stopped vibrating, but the hair on Geralt’s nape still prickled uneasily as he met your curiously flat stare, watching the unsettling flicker within your pupils.

Pivoting sharply on your heel, you strolled away from the burning wreckage, not once looking over your shoulder.

“All you did was stand there,” Jaskier complained, shooting the witcher a glare.

“I was waiting.”

“For what? Her to tongue-lash us to death?”

Geralt handed Jaskier the dagger without a word, then slowly crossed the field to the edge of the destroyed structure. His gloves prevented him from being burned when he picked up his sword from beside the raging flames.

“What was she?” Jaskier asked, his annoyance replaced with concern. “She wasn’t human, right? Did you see her eyes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well…that’s probably more terrifying. Let’s go back to the village. I need a strong drink after that.” Jaskier hesitated midstride. “Unless…what if she’s there?”

Geralt almost hoped you would be, just so he could learn whether you were human or not.