#they’re were the most… interesting family on the block

[rustycopper4use]

An Old Picture

Here’s a look at the intern/slashers childhood.

[bks-writing-adventures]

Little Dancer (Aemond Targaryen X Lannister! Reader)

Summary: A wholesome little journey between the first time Aemond met his wife to the birth of their children.

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, brief mentions of sex.

Aemond never thought he would be a father. He never even thought he would get married, until you came around at a ball. He forgot what it was, a name day of his nephews? Some celebration for his parents marriage? None of it mattered, because he sat still at his family table, watching the room dance and watching lords get drunk and stupid. And all of a sudden you had blocked his view, your hands on either side of his plate. 

“Do all Princes sit pouting at balls?” You asked. The question flustered him, his one eye meeting yours. It was like you were challenging him, and the thought made his heart spin in his chest. 

“Only when he has no one to dance with.” He answered. The words magically came to him, and he held his breath as he had waited for you to respond. 

“It is a good thing I am here then, is it not? Or would you rather sit here, eating scraps and wishing to be elsewhere?” You were so teasing- so confident, and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around yours, and you were walking backward as you dragged him to the dancefloor. He did not have the time to be self conscious, and he could no longer let his eye wander as his hands landed on yours, spinning you, watching how your skirts swished and your hair got fluffy and frizzed. 

“So who are you, my little dancer?” He asked softly, holding you closer to him. You were warm, and he couldn’t tell what was making his heart pound. Your presence or the wine, or maybe an intoxicating blend of both.

 “(Y/N) Lannister,” You answered, licking your lips as the song ended. “If you wish to get to know me, we should move somewhere quieter,” You said gently, and he smiled as his eye wandered. 

“I know a place,” He said softly, his arm linked with yours as he carefully lead you out and into the gardens. It was quite the scandalous thing, he was well aware- but he didn’t care enough to stop. His brother was far from proper, he was a criminal and a disappointment. Speaking to a pretty girl in the garden would not be the worst crime. The garden hiccuped with the sounds of grasshoppers and frogs, and you smiled at the sound. 

“Do you know what that sound is?” You asked softly, and he gave you a curious look as you walked further into the great land of flowers. 

“Frogs,” He said simply, to which you nodded. 

“Mating frogs. Do you know how many eggs a frog can lay at once?” You asked.

 “Do you tell everyone your favorite amphibians facts, or am I special?” He smiled a little, trying not to let his interest show on his face. 

“There are facts much more interesting than that,” You answered, and for a few minutes, the two of you simply walked in the quiet. 

“How many eggs can a dragon lay?” You asked. 

“You take an interest in dragons, My Lady?” He asked in return, to which you nodded. He quietly sat on a bench, pulling you down to sit beside him. The moonlight did not do much to guide either of you, but he could make out the bridge of your nose and the slight shine of your eyes in the darkness. “Well, they can lay five, at most.” He responded, wondering if that would be enough for you.

 “Why is that? And what are they like?” You asked, resting your chin on your hand. You had always liked to learn about science, and this was your way in. Into the world of infinite books and knowledge. And he just had such a pretty face, which definitely helped the case. 

“The eggs? They’re hard and large and scaly,” He responded, reaching over to touch your hand. It was a daring move, but he wanted to feel you. In the darkness, touch the soft skin of your hand and wrist, and you didn’t move away.

 “Why is that? Are they not reptiles?” You asked quietly, and he had to lean closer to hear you.

 “Dragons cannot be put into a box, My Lady. They are everything and nothing. No mortal could ever learn to understand them,” He murmured, gently guiding your hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that attracted him so. You were just so unconventional, untrained. It was fascinating. 

“Not even Targaryens?” You asked softly as his breath tickled your fingers.

 “Certainly not. We only shout commands and hope they listen,” He chuckled softly. He was about to speak again when a loud shout suddenly broke the walls of intimacy around them. For the love of Gods, this did not look good. He wasn’t sure if he pushed your hand away, or if you pulled it back, but all contact was quickly broken as the two of you rushed to stand up. 

“Aemond, what is the meaning of this?” His mother sounded rather angry. She always was, whenever something like this happened. This was the worst possible time for her to wander over. 

“Mother, I was simply conversing with the Lady Lannister, and-” She cut him off, making his lips purse. 

“Without a chaperone, in the darkness, away from the sights of others? Do you understand how scandalous this is?” As you both shrunk under her lecture, neither of you argued back. And soon enough you and Aemond were sat before his mother and your own as they discussed. 

“We did nothing unholy. We were only speaking of the anatomy of dragons,” You frowned, to which your mother quickly shook her head.

 “Is that what they call it nowadays? This is out of control, and now your honor is ruined,” She huffed, and you stared down boredly at your hands. This is not how you thought your night would go, and the next sentence only made things more bizarre. 

“Her honor is not ruined, and I will ensure it. I intend to make (Y/N) my wife.” Aemond spoke, making your head quickly turn. All arguments died out like a flame without air, his eye soft and apologetic as he looked at you. But neither of you could claim to be mad about it. It was only the Gods’ odd way of making a match, and the next days were full of shy conversation and blushing cheeks, loomed over by your parents as they dissected every interaction.  

“I have a gift for you,” he said softly, pulling out a large book from his bag. It was bigger than your head, and the spine as so thick it could easily be mistaken for a brick. 

“Wow,” You mumbled, trying to read the front cover, but it is not in Common. Your eyes looked to his face, a curious look taking over your own.

 “It is in High Valyrian, its one of the oldest books in our library- well, not that one, that is a copy. The original would crumble like sand in your palms. But the language will be important for you to learn, I thought we could practice together,” He spoke, getting a little shy. It was a sweet sight, and you nodded as he explained. 

“Then you should allow me to teach you some Nyvia.” You responded. His brows scrunched a little. He had never heard of the language in his life.

 “And what is that?” He asked gently, intrigued. He didn’t realize you were bilingual, too.Your children would be an interesting batch. 

“My mothers first language. It is dying out, not many speak it anymore. Are you familiar with the island of Nyav?” You asked, and he nodded slowly. He had read about it in history books. It had been a brilliant place of beautiful plants and even more beautiful people. The stories said that it was lost to the sea, or to conquering, no one was sure. You were like a God of the old world, sitting right before him. 

“She lived there as a young girl, escaped before it disappeared, when she was betrothed to my father. I will admit that my own speaking is messy, but at least it is alive,” You spoke, slowly opening the book he had given you. You squinted a little. The letters were familiar, but the order was unlike anything you had ever seen. The longer he looked at you, the more questions formed in his head. 

“Do you think you have any Valyrian in you?” He asked. Nyvia had belonged to no one at all, no one knew where the people came from, only that they had not been there all along. Perhaps it had begun with Targaryen’s fleeing the Doom, or other Valyrians that escaped to the sea and washed upon its shores. 

“I do not think so. I do not look the part,” You reminded him, watching as his hand inched closer to yours, your fingertips brushing. It was perhaps the most touch you would be allowed until after you were married.

 “White hair does not make a Valyrian. It was only a thought,” He said, gently shrugging. His mind wandered to your children, the ones he would have with you. How many there would be. If they would have hair like yours, or hair like his own. How they would look on dragonback, and if you could all fly together as a family. Vhagar was more than big enough for two. You could hold his waist, and he would fly ahead of the children, and they would follow him like ducklings. Maybe you would have 12 children, one for every moon of the year. He cleared his throat as his mother called for him. Your meeting was done for the day. And when two more moons passed, it was finally your wedding day. Your dress clung to every part of your body, and your hair was covered with a heavy veil, beaded with pearls and gems big enough to pay off an entire house. 

The maids had tried to get you to agree to having pinned hair, or a more tradition style, but you declined. You never liked having too much on you, weighing you down. The air was stuffy with the breath of hundreds, and you tried not to look at the crowd as Aemond stood before you. “Kessa sagon sȳz.  Laesi va nyke.” He murmured softly, and you nodded as your eyes studied his face. He was wearing his fanciest eyepatch. You wondered how many were in his collection, and if you would ever see him without it. If he slept with it on. As you both repeated the words of the Septon, and it came time for the kiss- you stared at each other for a long, awkward few seconds, trying to figure out which one of you would lean in first. You may have been brave enough to approach him that first night, when he was just a sulking stranger. But now things were so much bigger. You had an audience. 

Finally, once he accepted you would not be the one to do it, he leaned down to press a brief, awkward kiss on your mouth, and you both parted with small, sheepish smiles. Once you were at your table, you both let out deep breaths from your lungs, and finally,you could curl up together, your arms looped around his as you giggled into his sleeve. “That was unbearable,” Your words were light, but the hit was strong, and he chuckled awkwardly. He had hoped the kiss was not that bad. But he felt a wave of uncertainty rushing into him. The first kiss was supposed to be magical, like you were bathing in fire and pureness and all that was good. But it felt like a child smushing two dolls together. 

He only hoped that with time, things would get better. And oh, how they certainly did. The bedchamber was full of soft sounds, and for every moan came ten laughs and raised brows. “Mm.. you sound like you are being murdered,” He murmured into your shoulder, and you smiled as you squeeze his hand. 

“And you sound like you’ve run 30 miles,” You responded as he panted onto your skin. 

“Oh, hush,” He smiled, gently biting your neck. 

“Little vampire,” You mumbled before he gently guided your face down to a pillow. He did not expect anything to come of your night of teasing and touch, but when six weeks had passed, he woke in the morning to you squirming from his arms. 

“It is too early for you to wake.” He grumbled. He had been an early bird before your marriage, before he was up into the early hours of dawn inside you, kissing you, teaching you High Valyrian as you tried to teach him Nyvia. 

“Yoane,” He spoke, and you shook your head. 

“Yo-awn-ee.” You repeated, and he tried once more.

 “Yoane,” He nodded, and you groaned into your hands.You were trying to teach him the words for love, your face pink with laughter. But as you rushed to the bathroom, your face took on an almost gray hue, and he found himself holding your hair in a big bundle as you spittled into the chamberpot, your belly soft and your nose sensitive. You were with child, or perhaps three or four, for when you reached your second trimester, you were a giant.

 “Mmm… you are like a dragon,” He mumbled as he kissed upon your stretched skin. 

“How so?” You asked softly, caressing his hair as his cheek pressed onto your belly. 

“You are going to lay a whole clutch. You must have three or four in here,” He marveled at the size of you, and you rolled your eyes.

 “I am telling your mother that you said that,” You responded, making his brows scrunch together.

 “You would not dare.” In the months of your marriage, Queen Alicent had grown quite attached to you. While she loved her son, she had always found him to be rather an intense man. She wasn’t afraid of him, no, but she never thought he would find marriage. Find joy. She thought he would grow old and become a knight or a philosopher, and she was quite pleased with you for bringing out these new parts of him. And so, if she learned of his comments of your size, she would beat him messy with a sock. When you were finally about to burst at the seams, you learned that there were things far more stressful than a wedding day. It was like everyone wanted to see your baby plop out, Alicent walking the room as they propped your legs off. 

“Would you mind leaving the room? This is a rather private matter,” Aemond spoke to his mother in a hushed voice, to which she gently shook her head.

 “And I am to be the grandmother of this child. I am close family, am I not? This is a huge deal for you, my youngest son having his first child!!” She gushed, and you shifted uncomfortably.

 “It may be hours before the baby arrives,” You groaned quietly, pushing the small wooden tools away from your legs. “I do not wish for too many to see my blood and my mess,” Your eyes held a certain fire, and your jaw clenched, and slowly her face filled with an understanding, nodding slowly. You were no Rhaenyra, and you were no enemy. You were her daughter in law, the wife of her youngest son. And so quietly, she left the room, leaving you to the midwives, the maesters, and your husband.

 “Perhaps you would like to leave, My Prince. It is not necessary for the husband to stay,” One of the Maesters spoke, to which you quickly shouted. 

“If you leave me I will ensure that you never get to hold the baby.” You said quickly. 

“I would not dream of it, my dearest,” He responded, coming closer so you could hold his hand. Several hours passed of loud noises and angry shouts, little crescent moons cut into his hand from your grasp. Child after child escaped your womb, until a whole batch of seven was swaddled. The midwives had to call for backup to tend to all the children, each of them around five pounds. It was a concerning miracle, and Aemond’s eye widened as he stared at all the squirming infants.

 “By the seven..” He murmured, quite literally. A child for every god. What a miracle it was. His heart fluttered with fear as he reached out to one of the infants, the only girl, her hand slowly curling around his finger. It was beautiful and scary all at once, like a comet scratching the sky. It was all so very real all of a sudden, his breath catching in his throat as his eye watered.

 “Are they all healthy?” You asked softly, sitting up slowly, your hands curling up. “Yes,” One of your handmaids quickly told you. 

“Small but mighty, they are all warm and crying,” She spoke, wiping sweat from your face. You smiled, taking a deep breath, your eyes slightly puffy as two of the babies were placed on your chest. Two of the boys, one with hair like your own, and the other with a head of snow, little curls still damp from birth. “Look at his little swirly wirlies.” You mumbled, and Aemond chuckled as he leaned over, two of the babies in his own arms. One with gingery Hightower hair, the other with hair like his own. What the litter you had. “How many girls?” You asked softly, reaching to gently take the blankets off, but Aemond answered you before you had to use your energy. 

“Just the one,” He said softly, placing her on your belly. The two of you laid in the bed for hours, covered in babies on every limb and surface. It was a mess, a loud swarm of little coos and crying. But neither of you had ever been happier. Aemond never thought he’d be a good father, but he sure could do his best.

Thank you to everyone who reads!! Feel free to send in requests :)

-BK ♡

[artemis32]

Locksley

yandere Batfam x reader

yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months

also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested

word count - 4.8k

mbe masterlist

You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons. 

Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others. 

The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.

You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.

****

You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.

It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice. 

You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.

Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.

No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves. 

In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

Now, years later, the sentiment had faded. 

You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor. 

Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.

That was your job, your purpose in life.

It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.

Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves. 

So you did.

And you never got caught. Not once. 

Until you did.

****

This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.

As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.

The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them. 

You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you. 

Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.

Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.

It made you sick.

How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.

At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.

You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.

The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued. 

Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you. 

At least it was nice to look at.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.

It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life. 

But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.

The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.

And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.

You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow. 

Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:

Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.

Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty. 

It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.

And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.

****

The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.

Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.

You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.

The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready. 

Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.

Rich people were fucking dumb.

They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.

People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.

You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.

Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.

Someone’s here.

You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.

Fuck.

It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.

If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed. 

You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.

Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.

When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.

The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?

One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.

Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.

As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking. 

And he turned to look right at you.

You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.

Fuck.

He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago. 

There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.

After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.

Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.

****

“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.” 

It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.

So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.

“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”

He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.

“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”

If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.

“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”

The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.

Your blood runs cold.

Robin.

You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.

“Don’t move.”

For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.

“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list. 

They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-

“How?”

Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”

You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.

“How did you find me?”

If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.

“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”

He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth. 

“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”

Your blood chills in your veins.

So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.

“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”

At that moment, you weigh your options. 

If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.

Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you… 

No. You couldn’t go with him. 

Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.

With your mind made up, everything else is easy.

You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.

Too slow. Faster. Move faster.

You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell. 

He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.

Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.

It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.

Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.

In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study. 

Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over. 

So no, you didn’t regret your decision.

This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.

****

“Who is she?”

“Her name is-”

“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”

Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.

“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”

Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Her address. What is it?”

Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.

“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”

He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.

“It does matter. She stole from us. She–” 

The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.

“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”

His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.

“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”

Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.

“Yes, Father. Of course.”

****

A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.

“Don’t.”

He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.

“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”

The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.

“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.

Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could. 

You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering. 

“Yes.”

He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.

You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.

“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”

Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–

Towards you.

“She’s awake.”

That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring. 

“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”

With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.

Bruce Wayne.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

…I’m so dead.

You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.

“Mr Wayne, I–” 

He holds up a palm, silencing you.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”

He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.

“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”

Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.

“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”

A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment. 

“Why is he so upset?” 

You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.

“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?

He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.

“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”

Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.

“If he’s Robin, then…?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.

“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”

A choked noise dies out in your chest. 

Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?

His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.

You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Why are you telling me all this?” 

He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”

Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Omega!aemond trying to act tough in front of the public but as soon as the dominating scent of his future alpha hits him he’s just wandering around like a puppy trying to find the delicious scent, and when he does he just does anything to get alone with them so he can smell them more he’s just so addicted the pathetic boy

God I love omega!aemond so so so much!! Incredible thoughts anon.

As always, I've added a cut so that you guys who arent into this type of thing can scroll past easily. All of my a/b/o writing will be tagged with 'a/b/o hotd' so if you don't want to see it at all then block that tag.

So I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: despite the fact that Aemond is an omega, he really has no idea how to be an omega.

He trains his entire life to try and overcome his designation. He’s ashamed it, ashamed of being a male omega, ashamed of being the second son. He’s not well liked and he knows this, and he also knows that alphas aren’t exactly tripping over their own feet to get to him.

Any alphas that did show interest were so domineering and controlling that he immediately turned them all down. He resiles himself with just being alone and doing what’s expected of him.

Because of this, when you come to the red keep with family to discuss matters with the Targaryens and Aemond smells your scent in the corridors…. He has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

He’s never liked an alpha’s scent, ever. Some were more manageable than others but he’s never actually liked it before. And now he’s smelling something that’s just utterly intoxicating and he has no idea who this person is and also has no idea what he’s supposed to be about this.

When he sits down at dinner and sees the guests, he immediately picks up the scent again and releases its you. He barely even says two words that whole dinner because he can’t keep his eyes off you and is trying to think of how he can approach you.

The biggest problem is that he really has no idea what to do now. He’s spent so much of his life trying to suppress his designation and so now that your scent has triggered him he just doesn’t know what to do. Most omegas know exactly how to dress and act when they’re interested in an alpha and needless to say, Aemond hadn’t given that one second of thought until he saw you.

He’s so quiet at dinner that Allicent even asks if something was wrong. He mealy choked while trying to tell her that everything

You notice him too of course, and not just because his reputation proceeds him but also because you got his his scent when he walked into dinner and you immediately loved it more than any other omega’s scent you’ve ever encountered.

He eventually manages to plot to get you in a room alone with him. The only issue is that once you’re in that room he realises he actually has no idea what to say to you. He never even thought that far.

You ask him what’s going on and he’s losing his mind because you smell so good and you’re standing right there and he doesn’t know what to don. After a bit of awkward silence you ask him why he wanted to talk with you. Again, he tries to answer but it’s like the human part of his brain has completely disappeared leaving only desperate horny omega.

For the first time he wishes he actually paid attention when the other omegas tried to rope him into watching romcoms and talking about his feelings. Maybe if he had listened to them than he’d know what to do here.

And of course you’re very respectful and you keep your distance and you wait for him to make the first move. He stands there looking at you, not knowing what to do now that he’s actually around you.

I think the best way to his heart might be to first just treat him kindly, but like any other person and not like an omega and especially not like an omega in line to the throne. You had seen him practicing his sword skills in the training yard the day before and so you ask him about it, about how long he’s been training and what his favourite styles are.

The conversation flows easily from there, and because Aemond is not at all used to how haywire his instincts are going right then, he keeps on drifting closer and closer to you? You try to subtly take steps back each time because Aemond has yet to show any romantic interests and you wouldn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable or getting your scent on him.

Aemond meanwhile hadn’t even noticed how he keeps on trying to get closer to you. If Aemond were more in tune with the omega side of him and didn’t spend his entire childhood blocking his ears every time someone spoke about courting and dynamics, then he’d probably realise he’s trying to get more of your scent and the back away because it’s considered improper. But the poor thing doesn’t even notice.

Eventually you’re literally backed up against the wall and you cannot move any further away and even then he only realises when his nose is just about against your neck. Of course he jumps back immediately and apologises, saying he doesn’t know what got into him and promising to never do that again.

If this were any other omega, you’d accept their apology and offer to continue a discussion in public with everyone there and then decide what the omega thinks of you. But this is not any omega. Based on what you’d heard before and what you’ve just seen, it’s clear to you that Aemond either wasn’t trained at all about courting or, what’s much more likely, that Aemond pushed his designation down and ignored all aspects of it.

As a result, when he’s faced with someone whose scent is addictive to him, he can’t control himself? He doesn’t even know what urges to expect nevermind what to do about them or what he should be doing instead. It’s like now the can of worms has been opened and there’s nothing he can do except make a fool of himself over and over again.

It’s because of this that you tell Aemond he doesn’t need to apologise. You say you enjoy talking to him and he can stand as close as he wants, can be as close to you as he wishes and that you’d be honoured with any level of attention from him.

You think this will make him relax and then you can continue talking in your won little bubble.

And well, you’re half right. He certainly does relax, but hearing you say he can be as close as he wants makes him immediately step closer and burry his nose in your neck.

For a moment you’re in complete shock, because this is against everything you’ve been taught. You’ll be fine, you’re an alpha. But Aemond? He’s going to walk out of the room smelling like another alpha and no one else will even look at him anymore.

Despite that, you can’t help but hug him back. You rub his back and be actually purrs?? You just keep hugging him, telling him it’s alright because you don’t want him to panic.

After that, he’s attached to your side at all times. Good luck speaking to any other omegas because you have a jealous dangerous omega with zero control over their instincts following you around at all times.

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁 ; 𝘵𝘻11 ୨୧

➪ summary: pictures and text messages of her and her brother's best friend leak and she stays curled up in her room, not talking to anyone. so mason calls up her best friend and soon enough, trevor is on a plane to england

➪ warnings: things being leaked, crying, reader thinks her brothers hate her, crappy friends

➪ word count: 1.3k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: red, white, and royal blue is 100% the inspiration to this fic and yes i did basically copy the phone call and speech but its just too cute to ignore. i literally am in love with this movie. part two will be out tomorrow i hope! this would’ve been out earlier but i took a nap (shocking i know)

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

part two || tz11 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

Nothing was how it should be. They were supposed to be careful, they were careful. They were only seen together when it would make sense for them to be together; when he was in town for a game, when he was supposed to be hanging out with her brothers, or when he had a game against the Devils or the Canucks. And when they were seen together, they made sure everything was strictly platonic: no hand touches, stolen glances, nothing.

However, maybe they should’ve accounted for the fact that one, her friends were journalists, and two, her friends weren’t really her friends in the first place. They had a few classes together in college, back when she was still undecided, but despite that? They only found her interesting because of her last name and who shared it.

Somehow she was too predictable, her password was as basic as it got. It was the day Trevor asked her to be his girlfriend, they’re anniversary. It was the best day of both of their lives but now it was the root of all their problems. It wasn’t the biggest scandal on the dance floor, there were things much worse going on in the NHL and the world in general. No one would care about this besides the Zegras and the Hughes families and the girls who were too obsessed with hockey players and their relationships for their own good.

She was studying abroad in England this past year and she couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She had decided to extend her stay into the fall semester, not wanting to go back home. This sort of worked in her favor, she was 3,444 miles from Jack and Luke and 4,632 miles from Quinn. She was in a different time zone, country, and continent than them. All she had to do to avoid them was not answer her phone. 

She was good at that, blocking out social media and her phone as a whole. Growing up the sister of hockey players and her mom being who she was in the hockey world, she got used to the hate and backlash she got from not wanting to do hockey. Her phone was shut off and thrown into her desk drawer. Her friends tried to comfort her but were to no avail, she was too worried about what other people thought about it.

Not only had pictures of them been put out into the world but their text messages as well. However, she couldn’t remember a time she left her phone unattended. She hadn’t spoken to Trevor in two weeks, she hadn’t spoken to anybody besides her roommates in two weeks. She had seen a couple of articles and videos that were spreading, the one of Trevor’s interviews where he was addressing the situation was not only the biggest one but the most recent one. 

It was before the game, that the reporter had asked him about how everything in the media that was speculating had impacted him and his play. To which he responded with, “Y/n and I are together and have been since the beginning of the season. And whether people choose to support or hate it, isn’t my problem nor my business. We’re happy and hope everyone can support that decision and respect our privacy. I fell in love with a girl who happens to be related to my best friend. How is this affecting my mindset? I wouldn’t say it has, I’m still playling, and Greg still thinks I’m playing as best as I can and even better. I’m worried about her, that’s for sure. She hasn’t had the best track record with the media.”

He said a few more words, none of which mattered to y/n. She wasn’t sure if she cried more because of what he said or the situation. She curled up on the chair in the corner of the room, reading a book. Her friends looked at her sadly, they hated the fact that she had gone back to her reserved nature. 

Trevor on the other hand was acting like it wasn’t bothering him, he couldn’t hide himself from the media or anything really like she could. But, it was eating him alive. He didn’t know if she was okay or if something had happened or if she was ignoring him.  He was too desperate to know if he was okay so he attempted to reach out to all three of her brothers but he got nothing back in return.

It wasn’t until Mason walked into his room with his phone in hand, “I called her friend for you.”

Trevor looked at him with wide eyes, “What?”

“Thank me later.”

Her friend had been walking up the stairs to their apartment when she got the call from Mason, they had met when y/n and Trevor took them along on a trip to ensure that no rumors would start. She had practically run the rest of the way and bolted into the apartment. She walked over to y/n and handed her the phone.

She reached out for it and held it up to her ear, “Hello?”

“Baby!” 

Her voice stuck in her throat along with the sob that had been forming for a while. “Trevor? Oh my god, are you alright?”

“I’m hanging in there. Are you okay?”

She paused, “No. No, I’m not okay.”

“You know what, I’m coming to London tonight. Just hold on until I get there.”

“Hurry please.”

And just as he promised, 8 hours later he was standing in her apartment, opening his arms for her. She ran into them once she heard him call out and buried her head into his chest. Trevor sunk to the floor with her, his back pressed up against the wall, “It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.”

He could feel her body racked with sobs and he couldn’t help but start crying himself. He had torn himself apart these past two weeks as he waited to hear from her and knowing how much she had been in pain had hurt him. He picked her up soon after and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down on the bed. He crawled in next to her and wrapped his arms around her once more.

“Have you heard from your brothers yet?”

“Not a word. Not that I have checked my phone since the article came out.”

He frowned at her, tightening his hold, “Sometimes I wonder if part of their acceptance is just to forget it ever happened in the first place.”

This made him laugh a little as he pulled back to look at her. He moved the piece of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. His face changed when he realized that her small smile had turned back into a frown, “I feel so lost. They used to adore me, used to protect me, but now. It feels like they just wish I never existed.”

“Hey, they still love you.” She just blinked at him, “I’m sure if you looked at your phone they would just be wondering if you were okay.”

“I liked your speech, it was very put together.”

He smiled at her, “It made me very proud to be your girlfriend.”

“Hey, I’m always proud to be your boyfriend.”

She giggled and kissed his cheek, “You know what I mean you dork.”

“Speaking of boyfriends and girlfriends. Did you know Mason and Lia were dating?”

She perked up, “No! When did that happen?”

“Apparently-”

“Hey.”

The two turned and looked at Lia, “What’s up?”

“Your brothers are here.”

𝗠𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ୨୧

please message me if you didn't get tagged!

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[magicfootballstuff]

Dirty Little Secret - part 6 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 6/?

Read other parts here.

———

You’re a European Champion.

You don’t really know what to do with that information.

To be honest, after the first twenty four hours that pass in a hungover blur, you end up on a bit of a downer. You should be delighted, riding the high of being the first England team to win a major trophy in fifty-six years, but after two glorious months in camp with a group of girls you’re now bonded with for life, returning to your hometown for a couple of weeks before pre-season is a dose of reality that’s just a little bit too big to swallow.

You’re happy to see your family, of course. You’ve spent most of the summer away from them with only limited visits while you were in camp. But after the best summer of your life with a football at your feet, it takes all of about three days for you to be itching to get back on the football pitch again.

A few days into your two weeks off, a few of the girls get together for what is part post-Euro reunion and part farewell dinner for Georgia, who departs for Munich the next day. It’s a mixed group - a few Lionesses and some of the girls from Manchester City - but it’s the familiar dark hair at the end of the table that catches your eye, deep in conversation with somebody else you don’t know.

You’re surprised to see Leila who, apart from having her own Euro hopes dashed by Georgia’s extra time winner, has no reason to know Georgia.

You take a seat next to Lauren, who notices you looking at the two girls at the far end of the table.

“Oh, that’s Laia and Leila,” she explains. “I invited them. They’re still settling into the team and there’s so many City girls here, I thought it would be nice for them to get to know people a bit better.”

Leila must feel your eyes on her because it’s at that exact moment that she looks up and her dark gaze meets yours. There’s no change to her expression, no giveaway to anybody else that you know each other except for the fact that her eyes linger on you for longer than they would if you were just strangers who happened to make eye contact, until she finally turns back to her conversation with Laia.

You feel a rush of giddiness go straight to your head, blocking out all the sounds around you as you continue to look at Leila, admiring the sharp angles of her side profile. It almost feels like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, having this secret that nobody else around you knows. You enjoyed your time in Barcelona with Leila and getting to be all coupley with her in front of her old teammates, but you’d forgotten how much of a turn-on the thrill of secrecy could be.

———

As the evening goes on, you don’t forget about Leila - how could you, when she is right there and looks so damn good - but you get a little distracted by everything else. There are enough Lionesses present that means you spend a lot of time talking about the Euros, reminiscing over the best summer of your life, then because tonight is about Georgia leaving, you end up talking about old times at City. It’s been years since you played for them, a scrawny teenager playing alongside Keira and Georgia, all three of you with big dreams and no idea that you would one day become European Champions together. But even as you reminisce, there’s always a part of you that’s aware of Leila’s presence at the other end of the table and you can’t help but glancing at her throughout the night.

“All us OG City girls are gradually leaving the nest,” Georgia says, smiling fondly at you and Keira. “I wonder who’ll be next.”

You notice that Keira is suspiciously quiet and has suddenly taken a deep interest in the ice cubes at the bottom of her empty glass. With the performances she’s just put on at the Euros, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got interest from other clubs too.

“City’s got some new blood now though,” you say, your eyes wandering to Leila once more. “Not that it’ll matter, Arsenal will still beat City this season.”

Predictably in a room full of mostly City players, your comment causes outrage. Arsenal and City are due to play each other soon for the first fixture of the new season and you always enjoy the rivalry against your old club. And with Leila on the other team, you’ve got extra incentive to go out there and put on a show this time.

You let them banter with you for a moment. Even Georgia, technically no longer a City player, takes great joy in slandering Arsenal. 

When the conversation finally moves on, your eyes wander back to Leila, and you tune out the voices around you as you stare, mentally trying to figure out if there’s a way you can subtly change seats to be closer to her without alerting the entire group to your motives.

There isn’t, and Leila chooses that exact moment to meet your gaze while her lips are still wrapped around the straw in her drink. She lets the straw slip out of her mouth but you still get a glimpse of the pink tip of her tongue and there’s no way in hell you can pay attention to whatever conversation is going on around you now.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, anything to give yourself a chance to get away and recompose yourself, and thankfully they’re all too busy laughing at something Georgia is saying to pay any attention to the flush of your cheeks, nor the way that Leila’s gaze follows you as you go.

You hear somebody else enter the bathroom as you flush the toilet and when you exit the cubicle Leila is standing at the sinks checking her appearance in the mirror. Her dark eyes find yours in the reflection, and her mouth twitches in a smirk of recognition.

“Hi,” she says.

You glance around the bathroom, checking that all three stalls are empty, before you approach the sink to wash your hands and reply, “Hi yourself. How are you finding Manchester?”

“I like it. It’s a nice city.”

“At least the weather’s been nice since you got here. Just wait until it rains every day.”

You walk over to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands and Leila turns around, leaning back against the sink to look at you.

“Everything is always about the weather to you English people,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Too hot, too cold.”

“What can I say - we like to complain.”

“Are you going to complain right now?” Leila asks.

The air in the bathroom suddenly feels a lot thicker, the way that Leila is watching you as you dispose of the balled up paper towel, coupled with the teasing lilt to her tone, reminding you of just how attracted you are to her.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Actually, there is one thing I want to complain about,” you say, taking a couple of steps closer to Leila.

“What‘s that?” Leila asks, her eyebrows crinkling together in a frown.

“I want to complain about the fact that we’re alone in this completely deserted bathroom and you haven’t kissed me yet.”

“You haven’t kissed me either,” Leila points out.

“Is that an invitation?” you challenge her.

Your words have the desired effect of provoking a reaction from Leila, because her eyes flash in defiance and she retaliates, “I want to complain about how annoying-”

You don’t give Leila the chance to finish her complaint, because you grab her by the lapels of her jacket and pull her in for a kiss. She lets out a surprised little grunt when your lips collide with hers, but melts into the kiss quickly, her hands finding your hips as her lips settle into a familiar movement against your own.

You only realise now that you’re here, kissing Leila in a secluded bathroom like your life depends on it, that it’s actually been months since you last did this. In all your focus for the Euros, the hard work and the euphoria, you’d sort of forgotten that you hadn’t actually kissed Leila since you bid your goodbyes to each other in the departure lounge of the Barcelona airport after your brief visit at the end of last season. Not even after your game against each other during the tournament did you kiss.

And with the way Leila kisses you, stealing the air from your mouth with such hunger, you vow never to go another three months without kissing her again.

“I’ve missed you,” you mumble against her mouth, when you have to draw back for breath, to save yourself from passing out from sheer lack of oxygen caused by Leila’s kiss. “I’ve missed this.”

Leila’s hand finds the back of your head and she uses it to pull you closer, not for another kiss, but to rest your head against her shoulder as she wraps her other arm around your back. You snake your own arms around her waist, burying your face into her neck and savouring the feeling of her arms around you, not wanting this moment to end.

“I’ve missed this too,” Leila murmurs, her fingers stroking through your hair.

She’s right, it’s this that you’ve been craving. Not the kissing or the sex, though you’ve spent more time thinking about that in the nearly three months since you last slept together than you’d care to admit, but everything else too. The intimacy of being held, of having somebody to share the little moments with, the ability to go from teasing each other about the weather to making out against a sink to cuddling like this, with each of those things feeling just as natural as the last.

And maybe, just maybe, all of that will be easier to facilitate than it was when you lived in different countries.

“Stay with me tonight?” Leila asks, feeling her voice rumble beneath your cheek as much as you hear the words.

You’d been planning on getting a taxi back to your parents’ house on the outskirts of Manchester, or maybe crashing with Lauren or Keira if it ends up being a late one tonight, but that was before you knew that you’d see Leila tonight. Now that this offer is on the table, there’s nowhere else you want to spend the night.

“Of course.”

———

Waking up the next morning, there are two things that you feel. The first is comfort, Leila’s warm body wrapped around your own with your hips nestled back against her own, feeling happy and well-rested after a night of good sleep in her arms.

The second is the desperate urge to pee.

You try to extract yourself from Leila’s embrace without disturbing her, but Leila only tightens her arms around you to stop you from leaving and mumbles words that you don’t understand in sleepy Spanish.

“Leila,” you murmur, trying to wriggle free. “Leila, I need to pee. Where’s your bathroom?”

Leila reluctantly lets you leave her arms and mutters in Spanish again, before she says in English, “Left.”

You slip out of bed and leave Leila’s bedroom, following her directions by finding the bathroom through the next door to the left.

When you’ve been to the toilet and freshened up a little with some cold water to your face and running your fingers through your mussed hair, you exit the bathroom and immediately stop in your tracks when you see somebody sitting at the dining table eating breakfast and drinking coffee. You think you recognise her as one of Leila’s new City teammates, though her name slips your mind, but you wonder if you really walked right past her without noticing her on your way to the bathroom.

“Hi,” she greets you, an amused smile gracing her lips. “I’m Deyna.”

You glance at Leila’s bedroom door, which stands slightly ajar as you left it, then introduce yourself to Deyna.

“Arsenal, right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. “And you’re at City with Leila?”

“Teammates. Roommates.” Deyna pauses, then adds, “Just regular mates.”

“Cool,” you say, unsure whether you’re supposed to continue to make smalltalk with Deyna out of politeness, or if it’s acceptable to make your excuses and return to Leila’s room.

Luckily you’re saved at that exact moment by Leila herself, who emerges from her bedroom with sleep-tousled hair to investigate what’s going on.

“Oh,” she says, when she sees Deyna. From the expression on her face, she’s as surprised to see Deyna as you are. She turns to you, then says, “This is Deyna.”

“She knows that already,” Deyna grins. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“Coffee?” Leila asks you, as she walks over to the kitchen units and grabs a couple of mugs out of a cupboard.

“Yes please,” you reply. At the table, Deyna’s attention is now on her phone as she eats, and you say to Leila, “You didn’t mention that you had a roommate.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a deep sleeper,” Deyna interjects, glancing up from the screen of her phone with a smirk gracing her lips.

Your cheeks burn red and Leila retaliates with what you can only assume is a string of Spanish expletives. 

Deyna apologises, mostly directing it at you, before she asks, “So how did you two meet?”

“Champions League,” Leila answers, busying herself over the coffee again.

“We played each other twice in the group stage last season,” you elaborate.

“I beat her twice,” Leila says, glancing across at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Leila got a yellow card for trying to break my legs.”

“I didn’t … it was an accident,” Leila insists. “It was passion.”

“Strange way to flirt, but okay,” Deyna teases Leila.

“That’s what I said!” you exclaim in agreement.

Leila wanders over with two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which she offers out to you, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips as she mumbles, “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

You thank her for the coffee, bringing it to your lips and taking the tiniest sip from the mug, letting out a satisfied hum.

The only other time Leila has made you coffee was when you went to visit her in Barcelona, but the coffee is perfect, like heaven touching your tongue.

“You remembered how I take my coffee?” you ask.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

The domesticity of it is nice, as if you’re existing in a bubble where only you and Leila matter.

Until Deyna interrupts your moment.

“Go and be cute in your room,” she tells Leila, dismissing you both with a wave and a roll of her eyes. “I’m trying to eat.”

Leila nudges you back towards her bedroom and you soon find yourself nestled against Leila’s side again, propped up against the headboard with steaming mugs of coffee cradled in your hands.

“You promised me a tour?” she says.

“Of Manchester?”

Leila nods eagerly.

“You’re gonna have to wait a bit longer,” you tell Leila apologetically. “I can’t hang out today.”

The disappointment that flashes across Leila’s face is almost enough to have you reaching for your phone to call your agent to cancel your plans for the day.

“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be going back to my old junior club today. Helping out with some training, taking photos with the kids, letting them see my medal. Inspiring the next generation and all that crap.”

“It’s not crap,” Leila assures you. “Well, maybe for me if it means we can’t hang out.”

“Didn’t know you were so clingy,” you tease her.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” Leila replies flirtatiously.

You smile across at her.

“And I can’t wait to find out.”

———

You return to London a couple of days later, regretfully without having seen Leila again since that morning at her flat, but you start to message each other more often. Not quite every day, but a few times a week, little things like talking about your days. It’s more familiar than it’s ever been before, with most of your conversations prior to the Euros being laced with flirtatious pictures and suggestive messages. But this is different - you talk about mundane things like training, or what you’re having for dinner, or the latest English slang words that Leila has learned from her new City teammates. 

But that doesn’t mean your relationship has lost any of its spark. It’s still flirty, especially because Arsenal’s first fixture of the new season is away at City. It reminds you a little bit of those first couple of encounters in the Champions League last season, bantering about the upcoming contest in a way you hope leads to sparks on and off the pitch.

And then the game gets cancelled. 

All that build-up, the jokes about yellow cards, the promises that you’d let Leila do whatever she wants to you if she let you score past her, falls away into nothing the moment that the game is called off.

You feel empty. And not just because football is your life and you’d been looking forward to the league starting up again, but because once the season starts you don’t know when you and Leila will both get time off at the same time. It might be months before you get to see each other again.

———

Two things happen when the season finally begins and September morphs into October.

The first is that you pick up a hamstring injury. It shouldn’t surprise you too much, given that you pretty much went straight from last season into the Euros, straight into pre-season. You’re in your prime as an athlete, but you’re not invincible. You work hard on your recovery, even if you’re a little bummed to be spending so much time in the gym and staying on the sidelines as the Champions League group stage begins.

The second thing that happens is that fifteen Spanish players, including Leila, step back from their national team in protest of their working conditions. You don’t know the details but you remember Leila alluding to some problems during the Euros, when she pointed out that talent alone doesn’t win Championships.

You don’t really know what you can do to support Leila, especially from London. The story blows up in the football media world and you imagine it must be particularly hard for Leila, being so far from Spain and away from most of the other girls involved, but you don’t know if there’s anything you can do or say to make it easier.

You eventually settle on messaging her a few hours after the story hits the headlines.

You Proud of you for standing up for the right thing! Always here if you want to talk about it or if you want a distraction instead?

Leila likes your message after a few hours but doesn’t reply.

The red heart that taunts you from the screen of your phone is something you’ll come to realise is probably the beginning of the end.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Forming the Pack - Part 1

Autumn Embers Master List

Pheromones aren’t everything, of course, but you’ll get more cohesive group dynamics if everyone has scents that go together. Scent blockers and diffusers are everywhere in common spaces, so it’s not like people who’s scents don’t mesh can’t be around each other. Lots of people with subtler or hard to pin down scents only go au naturel on special occasions with family and their special someone.

Of course, the military is a whole other beast.

Almost every person serving active duty is an alpha, which lends itself to clashes. And alphas, who already tend to have stronger scents, put out even more aggressive pheromones in close proximity with one another. Industrial strength scent diffusers can only do so much. It results in proximity packs forming, alphas who are scent compatible spending more time with each other.

The 141 doesn’t form because of scent compatibility. When Price finds Simon and forms the task force, he doesn’t much care about what they each smell like. Their scents being on wildly different parts of the spectrum is better than if they were too close, Price reasons. His gear smells a bit spicy, Simon’s always has an earthy undertone. It’s easy to avoid squabbling, and only made easier by the way Simon readily assumes his position as John’s second. No muss, no fuss.

The first year passes. It’s hard work, but Simon makes it undeniably simpler. The Ghost has a presence that demands deference from the temporary members of the task force. And because Ghost follows his captain, that deference extends to Price. The two times someone had tried to upset the balance, Simon had reacted with such swift ferocity that Price hadn’t known there was a problem before it was resolved with a neck under a boot.

“Stand down, Ghost,” Price says around his cigar, the third time.

“'S soon as he acknowledges his superiors, Skipper,” Ghost rumbles, staring down at the sergeant who’s face is going an interesting shade of purple with shame and a lack of oxygen. “Yield, corporal.” The sergeant frantically taps Ghost’s boot. Ghost gives him just enough room to heave a breath, and snarls down, “Yield to the Captain.”

“Captain, I yield,” the young man gasps.

“You ever flout orders again, I’ll kill you myself,” Ghost growls.

After that, the mission had gone smoothly.

Days later, it’s just the two of them again, walking home from the pub. It’s a nice enough night for it, and they’re both too jumpy to call a car. Simon follows without comment, just lights a cigarette and falls into John’s wake, like always.

Four blocks from the base, Simon says, “Gotta piss.”

John snorts. “What, you didn’t go before we left? Hold it.”

“Alright,” Simon drawls. Without breaking stride, he lights another cigarette.

Of course, within another block, John becomes too aware of his own bladder. If Simon hadn’t said anything, he could probably have made it. Annoyed, he steps into an alley and behind a dumpster. His nose does not appreciate the assault on his senses, but he’s a soldier, he’s smelled worse. Simon stands guard at mouth of the alley as he does his business.

When he emerges, he tips his head. “Goin’?”

Simon quirks an eyebrow and exhales a cloud of smoke. “Am I?”

Price hums, takes in Simon’s relaxed posture. Without the skull covered balaclava, he’s softer. Not civilian soft - he’s still almost 2 meters of alpha, hardened by military training and torture. But where most military As balk at taking orders when they’re not in the field, Simon looks for ways to let Price lead.

Simon will do what ever John tells him. It’s a realization that probably shouldn’t thrill him the way it does.

John waves him into the alley. “Be quick about it.”

Without comment, Simon hands his half-finished cigarette over and steps into the alley. John contemplates it as Simon does his business. He prefers cigars, but he takes a drag and tells himself it’s just to keep it lit.

But when Simon re-emerges, John doesn’t hand it back. And Simon doesn’t ask.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 19

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

I no longer heard Roger’s footsteps and was left all alone.

(...Roger’s been taken away…What do I do after this…)

(First,  I need to figure out what actually happened— )

Amongst the scattered thoughts in my head, Victor’s face popped into mind.

(Maybe Victor—)

As I rushed down the hall, I saw someone leaning against the wall…

Nica: Guten Tag (Good day), Robin. Ahaha, that’s a dreadful look you have there.

Kate: …Nica.

Nica: Going by that look on your face, you didn’t hear what you wanted from the doctor?

Kate: How did you know that…?

(Now that I think about it, I didn’t ask back then, but…)

(For some reason, Nica was present at the time after I got kidnapped)

(I’m not mistaken. Nica was snooping around us)

Nica: Oh dear, can I talk about that? I do hold the key to all the information.

Kate: …All the information?

Nica: On why Roger Barel was arrested.

(...You mean)

Ellis had told me about it before.

The time when Roger was still unlicensed and agreed to treat Jude so that he could use him as practice.

(After that, Roger’s been…)

I turn pale at the realization that Roger’s been unlicensed.

Roger left the family business behind and joined Crown to put all his focus on researching curses.

His ego rejected the life as a doctor…

And Roger was the most unforgiving to himself for the sin of carrying the title of doctor.

Nica: And here’s the interesting part, Robin. Roger’s research on the Cursed—He’s looking in to how to get rid curses, isn’t he?

(You know that much…)

When I pursed my lips, a gentle voice leisurely blocked my escape route.

Nica: Ah, it’s pointless to fool me. You’ll be in trouble too if we don’t keep going.

Nica let out a throaty laugh.

Nica: Roger’s formulation documents for the potion to remove curses were handed over to Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council.

Kate: To the Privy Council…?

Nica: In exchange for the valuable materials, he demanded that he’d be given an important position. And even proposed that Crown be dissolved. That’s the Double-crossing Hunter’s curse for you.

Because the Privy Council is so devoted to Her Majesty, they don’t think highly of Crown, whom Her Majesty puts all her trust in.

Even I know that.

(Could it be…)

The smug looks on the Privy Council’s faces as they led Roger away confirmed my suspicions. 

(...I’m sure of it)

(And Roger clearly said that he was “set up by the Privy Council”)

Kate: Roger would never betray us. This was…all a plot by the Privy Council.

Nica: Hmm, you really do believe in the Cursed Ones, don’t you, robin. …Ah, that’s right. Because Roger’s unlicensed, the Privy Council demanded that Crown cease all activities. Currently, they’re all being watched by Her Majesty and can’t make any moves.

(When Roger was taken away, none of Crown’s members were around.)

Usually at this point, someone would fill me in.

If no one’s shown up, then that means what Nica said was probably true.

Nica: Even if Roger didn’t betray them, those valuable materials would’ve still ended up in the Privy Council’s hands. This is certainly a bind. What are you going to do, robin? Are you in despair?

(...It’s frustrating, but Nica’s right)

If I lost focus in a desperate sort of situation, I’d get consumed by despair.

But, Roger’s voice echoed in my mind.

—“I’m not gonna give into despair so easily.”

(I hate losing and don’t know when to give up)

(Even less so after meeting Roger)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Even though you felt depressed, it was sweet seeing you keep looking forward and not give in to despair. I also believe that in life is to give despair the finger.

Kate: Give despair the finger?

Roger: Yeah. I went through the trouble of being born. I’m not gonna give into despair so easily.

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: …Regardless of what happens, I’ll never despair. You don’t resign yourself to despair, you give it the finger.

(...Right, Roger?)

Nica: …Hmmm. Then let’s suppose Roger can be saved. But is that actually a good thing?

Nica smiled as he spoke those unsettling words.

Kate: What do you mean by that?

Nica: That man will definitely find a way to make curses disappear. He’s pretty persistent. It’d be a big step toward changing us Cursed Ones and the world. Curses disappear and we Cursed Ones go back to being human. What’s salvation for some may be a tragedy for others. You should understand that, right?

Kate: I do.

(Because I’ve been trying to find an answer to Roger’s question)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world? You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.

~~ Flashback end ~~

There were always two sides to everything.

Drugs could be medicine or poison.

Pure thoughts sometimes made us suffer. Anger always came with sadness.

Kate: I can never say if making curses disappear would be a good or evil thing. But I do also want the pain of not having control over my own life to go away.

(I—)

Kate: I wish for a future where the Cursed get to choose whether or not they want to live with their curse. 

I was amazed at myself for saying that without hesitation.

(Turns out I already found my answer to the question…)

Nica: …

When I looked at Nica, I saw that his smile had disappeared from his face.

…But then it came back.

Nica: We’re just talking about what-ifs. What are you getting so serious for? Ahaha, you’re an earnest robin.

He laughed for a bit before looking into my eyes, that smile still on his face.

Nica: …Hey. Have you know Gracefield Royal Hospital?

Kate: Gracefield Royal Hospital. Yes, I’ve heard of that name.

(It’s the hospital where Roger’s father and Alec had worked)

Nica: There was some big shot from the Privy Council coming in and out of the hospital holding something that looked like Roger’s research materials. Haha, it’s smelling of evil, huh?

When curses disappeared, Crown would lose their abilities. In that case…

The ones rejoicing would be the Privy Council, who see Crown as a thorn in their side.

They’re jealous of Crown’s abilities.

(If the Privy Council was going in and out of the hospital with Roger’s research, then that means…)

Kate: …Is the Privy Council…trying to create a drug to remove curses?

Nica just smiled.

Nica: …Still, Crown can’t make a move. Roger’s in a cell. You just have a dog.

Nica looked at Ale in my arms.

Ale: …Woof.

Nica: You either clear through the situation, or it’s game over…I’m expecting things.

As I thought over what Nica said, I heard him leave.

(Is what he just said true…?)

(Nica could be feeding me misinformation, but…)

I don’t have any information at the moment, so I’ll just have to believe him.

(Besides, it don’t think he was lying)

Kate: Roger, I—

What should I do?

Who should I turn to?

What am I supposed to do? +4 +4

Kate: Roger, I—What am I supposed to do?

(Even though we’re apart, we’re still under the same sky)

I asked the question as I turned to the endless span of blue.

Kate: …

A gentle breeze brushed my cheek and I lifted my gaze.

The storm that raged in my mind had calmed down.

(There’s an arrest warrant for Roger. The Privy Council said they would be turning him over to the police)

Doctors who performed surgery without a license were supposed to be prosecuted under the court of law.

Meaning he’d be sent to the courthouse before going to prison.

(What will the Privy Council plan to do after getting Roger arrested…)

That’s still uncertain.

(But, if they really are attempting to make a drug that will remove curses)

Roger’s definitely needed to stop it.

Keeping Roger active would be the key to getting out of this situation. 

(But I’m all alone)

(...Can I do this all alone?)

(I don’t have a choice if Crown thinks Roger’s a traitor—)

Kate: No, don’t think like that.

(Not everyone in Crown’s like that…)

They may not be good people. In fact, they’re definitely villains.

(But…that’s what makes them so good at reading people’s minds)

I understand this because I’ve faced many troubles as Fairytale Keeper, and each time, Crown would help me out.

(And Crown’s not the type to just sit quietly)

(So have faith in me. I’ll do all that I can)

Ale: Arf.

As if to cheer me up while I was stuck deep in thought, Ale licked my nose.

Kate: Ah, hehe…Sorry. That’s right, I have Ale. …Ale, let’s go get Roger back.

Ale: Arf arf!

--

And so I headed to— 

(Is this courthouse really that big?!)

While it was a relief that I could blend in with the public audience, the interior was so big that I couldn’t find the cell Roger was held in.

Kate: I have one door left…and there’s a security guard, Ale.

Ale: …Woof.

Kate: But that place definitely feels suspicious, huh?

Ale: Arf arf.

Ale’s short tail wagged vigorously as if to say “Use me as a distraction”.

Kate: …Got it, thank you Ale. Roger will give you a lot of rewards later for your hard work.

Ale: Woof!

After gently setting him down on the ground, Ale made a beeline for the security guard…

Security guard: Woah, huh? A dog? Ah, wait, stop!

He ran around in circles, playing with the security guard and knocking vases over.

Kate: Nice, Ale!

Using the distraction, I slipped through the door and started searching around the courtroom.

(Which door leads to the cells?)

I didn’t find anything of the sort as I wandered around, when I suddenly remembered…

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Oh right, Kate. See that square door on the floor there? That’s actually a hidden door—Leads directly to the basement lab.

~~ End flashback ~~

(If there’s a hidden door, then it would probably be…)

I casually looked under the judge’s seat and found a square cut-out shaped like a door on the floor—

(...You're kidding me. There really is one.)

When I went through the door, there were walls on both sides and a continuous passageway.

(It’s dark, I can’t see ahead of me…)

I slapped my cheeks as if to scold myself for feeling scared and took a step forward.

(I wonder if I’m getting stronger)

(...Maybe just a little bit)

(Because my hands are cold, my heart is pounding loudly, my legs are shaking, and I’m actually so anxious I could cry)

Within the pitch-black darkness, the only sounds were my heartbeat and the thoughts in my head.

(Also, I always hesitate at crucial moments…I can’t do anything for people important to me)

I couldn’t hug Roger on that rainy night as he stood there alone in the rain.

(Just like earlier. I should’ve hugged him and told him not to go…)

I was one step away from being able to hug him.

—I was afraid he would tell me he didn’t want it.

—I was afraid that I wouldn’t touch his heart.

(But that’s enough of feeling weak now)

There’s no need for weakness that would leave someone I love alone.

I needed to throw that weakness that stopped me from reaching out to the one I love away.

I may be Roger’s partner, but I still have a long ways to go before I’m strong.

(However…Now I need do everything in my power for the person I love)

--

It seemed that I reached the end of the passageway and I no longer felt a wall.

There was only a single candlelight in the darkness.

(...I can faintly make out what looks like a jail cell…Roger has to be there)

(But what if I’ve made it this far and I’m wrong?)

Kate: …I want to see Roger.

My voice melted into the darkness when—

Roger’s voice: …Kate?

(Just now)

Kate: Roger!

I followed the voice, grabbing at the bars. When I strained my eyes, there he was—

Roger: …Kate.

[livvidaloca]

what!? liv made human designs for the watterson family again!? yes, she did, and here’s her train of thought for these under the cut:

so, these are actually for my fic that i’m writing on ao3 in which gumball finds himself transported to another universe in which everyone is a human after the events of the inquisition. this is why there’s very few animal traits on any of them, or magically colored anime hair. i wanted them to look like people who could exist and walk around.

in this, nicole is blasian and richard is a white latino (with frankie being white non-latino and jojo being latina). (also these headcanons were based on a lot of convos with some of my friends back in the day, i don’t remember anyone’s reasonings for these but they’ve been true for so long in my brain) gumball and anais are mixed, and i tried to nod to gumball taking more after nicole and anais taking more after richard without making them carbon copies. and then darwin of course is black thats just canon

as for their designs themselves, i’ll start with nicole. i tried to make her look decently muscular (although the simplistic style i used doesn’t exactly show it off). her blue bandana and shoes are obviously a nod to her canon design, so she doesn’t look like an entirely different character. as for her hairstyle i looked into relatively low-maintenance styles, since she’s a busy woman! and her hair is starting to gray from all that STRESS!

richard’s design is the most straightforward, yet it took me the longest because i was never satisfied with how it was turning out. i’m still not sure if i’m crazy about it. all i know is that i was dead set on making him bald, since there’s literally a whole episode about that. I didn’t commit all the way because the design without any hair was making me lose my mind. i gave him some freckles as a nod to his whiskers because they’re a lot more prominent than nicole’s (which is why she doesn’t have any). this also translated to gumball’s design. also, how could i ignore the obvious choice and not give him pink bunny slippers!? it fits him so well!

gumball was fairly easy for me, because i kinda always have human designs for him in mind. i always give him those blue sneakers because duh, and i always give him dyed-blue hair that he visibly doesn’t maintain. i always had this human-version-only headcanon that gumball BEGGED to dye his hair for the longest time, and nicole finally allowed it on the condition that he’d keep up with it on his own. he didn’t. classic gumball

darwin’s design is also usually an easy one for me. big orange hoodie, green shorts and sneakers. this time i also made the decision to have his hair tied up to resemble his little fin. it’s not really visible with their clothes and stuff blocking the original sketch, but i also tried to make his legs a little bit lankier than gumball’s, just to make them appear longer like they are in the show.

as for anais, i always have trouble nailing the design without it looking like a completely different character. i cant dye her hair pink, because she’s supposed to be four, but i also can’t give her pink shoes, because she’s of course the only one who actually has shoes! then i remembered ribbons and my day was saved. still not sure if i’m completely sold on her design yet, though. i think she looks a little older than four.

anyways, i’m planning on doing other designs like these with other characters! let me know if you’re interested. as for that fic, here’s the link:

[carmen-is-away]

angsty elliott headcanons.

content warnings: self harm, toxic relationships, mental illness, violence?, mentions of abuse

He gets attached very quickly to people he’s interested in romantically and will ignore red flags and/or try extremely hard to make them fit them into the idealized narrative he’s created of them in his head

He tends to isolate himself from others once he’s in a romantic relationship and hardly ever spends time with people besides his partner

He worships his partner, I’m talking devoting his whole life to making them happy and ignoring his own wants most times

Loves his partner wholeheartedly and is willing to do almost anything for them, even if they’re not always the best to him

He very desperately wants to be loved

He begrudgingly disowned his parents, they were terrible towards him and never supported him along with being horribly neglectful and abusive albeit having more than enough time and money to do so

He gets violently angry and destructive when his writer’s block is at its peak.

I’m talking throwing his journal across the room and shoving everything off of his desk. He’s pulling his hair and yelling and destroying his surroundings and probably hurting himself

He makes sure to not let his partner or anyone see this though. He hates when people worry about him.

It’s usually followed up by a long and sob and horrible depression episode that lasts somewhere from a few weeks to months.

What can I say? He feels his work very strongly

That also goes for the opposite

He’s running to read you his latest poem because he’s fallen in love with it and he expects you to as well

He may have even brought himself to tears

He will be all over you and ready to jump over the moon if you love it as much as he does

If you aren’t as tender as enthused as he hopes you’ll be or you judge his work harshly with less than constructive criticism, it will be a large blow to his ego and it will break his heart a little

He will understand if you’re busy or tired or not able to put your full focus on it, but if you can and you aren’t, or you're being an asshole, he’s super hurt and he may not always admit or display that in front of you

He craves validation, please give it to him, he might actually go insane without it

He also needs affection. He’s very insecure and will begin to wonder if you’re not attracted to him if you haven’t been affectionate with him in a while. He’s been quite touch starved for a long time

Elliott’s a very broken man and he requires a lot of patience and attention

He needs security and stability and someone who won’t take advantage of him

Please give him the space to make decisions and be accepting of him and give him your attention

Despite his terrible mental health, he’s a wonderful partner and father. Even when he’s doing terribly, he’s all ears and open arms for his family

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hii! could u maybe write something abt a sick and VERY stuborn villain and a hero who keeps insisting on taking care of them? i really love ur work!! :)

“I could kill you within seconds, I hope you know that,” the hero whispered. They looked down at the enemy they were sitting on. The villain struggled terribly, even though the hero’s grip around their throat wasn’t that strong. Gasping for air, they held onto the hero until the latter softened their grip. “You’re sick.”

Tears were in the villain’s eyes and it wasn’t because they were sad. The hero pulled their fingers back fully, thus letting go of their nemesis. The villain — stubborn as they were — tried some weak attack which the hero only blocked with no interest.

“Headache?”

The villain didn’t answer. It was most certainly a pride thing.

“You need to go to bed.”

“I am fine,” the villain insisted. They tried to get up but the hero pushed them back down. They were surprised the villain had even made it this far. They didn’t think they would be able to get on top of a skyscraper and fight in the same condition the villain was in. They were probably filled up with painkillers.

“This doesn’t make you brave. People literally die from working out when they’re sick.” The hero put a hand on the villain’s chest. It was first and foremost for reassurance but they felt like they had to keep the villain down, too.

“I’m—” The villain started coughing violently and the hero pulled them up quick enough for the villain’s chest to bump against theirs. Once the villain found their breathing again, they stayed like this: leaned against the hero’s upper body, head on the hero’s shoulder.

“Take a second,” the hero said. They put a hand on the villain’s back in a feeble attempt to give them some kindness.

They knew exactly what the villain’s life looked like. They had their file and they had studied them in combat. And apparently, the villain knew them just as well. It was an unspoken thing.

But what really stuck out to the hero was the villain’s loneliness. Orphaned, no family, no friends, no partners. The villain had a cat but that was all. A cat couldn’t possibly take care of their health.

The hero felt guilty, felt somehow responsible. An ugly feeling infected their chest and left no room for a debate. The villain was vulnerable.

“Do you have medicine at home?” they asked. They still held them close.

The villain shook their head.

“I’m not gonna fight you today.”

“But I have to…”

“No,” the hero said. “No fighting.”

They let their fingers comb through the villain’s hair. It was really soft. A little messy, though.

“Close your eyes. Just take a moment,” the hero said. They felt the villain’s breathing on their neck. It was uneven.

The hero closed their eyes as well. They knew once the villain was healthy again, this would continue. Their rivalry wouldn’t come to an end. They would try to kill each other anew. They had little hope that things might change. In all these years of working as a hero, they had experienced nothing but a vicious cycle of killing and survival.

But right now, as they were holding onto each other, they could feel the kind of affection they had for another buried deep down.

Honestly, the hero wasn’t doing much better. Their private life was just as lonely as the villain’s. Maybe all they had was each other.

So, the hero tried to hold onto this for as long as they could — until they brought the villain to their apartment and took care of them.

After that, fighting the villain became increasingly unbearable.

[impactedfates]

Hello! Is it alright if I request platonic headcanons for Dan Heng, March 7th, and Welt with a teen!reader who’s really calm and chill? They don’t cause trouble/chaos, has a really calming presence, easy to talk to, is mostly mature for their age, but they aren’t cold or blunt. They are nice but not naive, and they are quite observant + smart when they need to be, so they’re good at solving problems (reader is kind of like the calmest one on the Astral Express lol)

Please remember to take breaks and to stay hydrated! Your health comes first :)

A/N: Yes it's alright :D Thank you, I'll remember to take breaks and drink water, you will too alright?? I'm so sorry if this came out so late :sob: I didn't mean to make you wait for so long!

Genre/Trope: Platonic + Found Family (Express Family)

Format: Head Cannons (Separate)

Warnings: None

Extra: Reader slightly of taller then March despite being younger // Grandpa Welt <33 // Reader was also found in ice along with March

Dan Heng admires how calm you can be, even in stressful situations and is thankful at how observant and smart you are. Likely helping the group get out of certain situations due to it. You're rather different to the girl who was found floating near you in ice and he noticed quickly how you two were almost polar opposites.

He enjoys having another person on board the express who's calm and he's thankful you're easy to talk too. And that you don't mind how closed off he is himself, he's also thankful you don't cause trouble on missions or the express and rather you help defuse them.

He sees you as a younger sibling and makes sure you're being taken care of as well. Everyone on the express is his family and he will ensure all will be protected. This means you have to eat your vegetables, hydrate and sleep.

I see you two relaxing in the archives as you help him with adding things into the Data Banks when neither of you can sleep. And when you do ultimately fall asleep, he carefully carries you back to your room and tucks you in before continuing working himself.

Also, despite being younger then most of the express, you're more mature then a good few of them which are adults. And he's unsure if he should be concerned cuz of that fact.

March 7th is older then you, but she considers you her twin! Simply because you were both found on the same day, and even though everyone knows you're a teen so younger then she is. People go along with it.

She complains a bit about being shorter then you, one of the times she doesn't call you her twin. But she means well, all her little annoyances and complaints with you slightly being taller is a joke.

Anytime she's stuck on a puzzle she always call for you (And I mean like, those puzzles you buy in shops) and always watches intently as you figure it out.

She's of course aware at how calm and chill you are, and honestly. When you two first got to know each other she wanted to see what would change that. Pulling pranks and attempting to annoy you but not too much. Yet you still stayed calm.

She's very interested at how you're so calm in nearly every situations, now a days. She accepts it as you and won't try to break the calmness you have. If she's ever having a bad day, she comes to you. You oddly have an aura that helps her calm down.

When Welt saw not one but TWO ice blocks containing people in it, he was shocked. However wasted no time in saving the two of you. Just like March you seemed to have lost your memories and he's determined to help you find out your past.

He sees you as his grandkid, and was even a bit protective of you at first. However seeing your calm nature and how smart you were in many situations calmed himself down. He's still worried if you go on missions but he trusts that you'll be protected.

He's not that surprised you act so differently to March when you two were both in ice however he does find it amusing in a way. You're still a teen so even if he does trust you now to go on missions, he wants you to update him.

Just like Dan Heng, he's thankful you're not only chill but don't cause problems, also you're rather mature for your age, if you were older then he'd definitely consider putting you in charge of the train if Dan Heng wasn't able too take charge. Considering you're age currently, only Dan Heng is in charge.

DIWNDJFEHW. Hopefully I'll be able to finish the next requests in the following days, I feel so bad for not being able to write them yet :,)

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Halo Pt.2

warnings: less plot, but still plot, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, biting, light blood(play), light hair pulling, body worship, oral(f receiving), light degradation, yandere themes, dub-con, think that's it

summary: in your free time you do freelance writing, doing interviews with people most would consider strand and unusual. when you recognize that one of the regulars in your coffee shop only visits in the evening, you pose the question of where you can interview him, upon his agreement, you realize this is unlike any other interview

a/n: holy shit, i am alive actually. i feel kinda horrible that i last posted in september. life got kinda crazy, i was slammed with uni and work, and had intense writer's block. anyways, i hope those of you who enjoyed the first part enjoy this one even more! i'm not entirely sure how active i'll be this semester, but i'm not going to make any promises lol. as always, i hope you enjoy and have a great day! :D ~nero

word count: 5.4K

Vampire!Seonghwa x female reader

pt.1

Seonghwa looked off to the side, inhaling a calculated breath before he spoke. 

“The nightlife. Where I was before was too prosaic and mundane. It lacked character. But here? There’s a flame that ignites when the sun goes down.” 

You scribbled down his last sentence wanting to maybe use it as the title for the piece when you finished. Looking back up at him, you felt your body relax and suddenly everything felt easy. 

“Where were you before?” 

“Everywhere. I’m a bit of a nomad, you see? I can’t stay chained to one place for too long.” 

“Did you find your last locations to grow boring, or was it something else?” 

“Something else. Rather of my own doing, but needing to keep my needs satiated is a necessity.” 

You paused for a moment and glanced at your notebook littered with questions trying to find the next avenue you’d walk down. You hadn’t been faced with someone so careful in their speech. He was answering your questions, yes, but not in the full detail that you desired. He was making you work. 

“Being a nomad, you must have a flexible job. What do you do for work and what’s your haven for play?” 

A smirk formed on his face, like he knew he was stumping you. Running his fingers through his onyx locks, he went to lick his lips and you noticed the length of one of his canines peeking from behind his upper lip. 

“Ah, yes. For work, I was lucky enough to benefit from years of generational wealth, but I hated the fact of that being my only accolade. So I sought after art. I always rendered an interest in building things so I thought, why not extend that to an artistic field?” 

“What’s your medium?”

“Sculptures and charcoal portraits. I love capturing time in a piece. I don’t know how long this life will grant me so I enjoy partaking in affairs that allow me to immortalize that time. Remind me to show you some of my portraits.” 

Nodding, you remembered the busts you saw when you entered his home, the question crossed your mind if those were his art.

“Those busts that you have in your entryway, did you make those as well?”

“So you really were quite entranced. To answer you, yes, I did create those as well. They’re of my family who have since passed on. I don’t have many left in my life so it aids me in keeping the memory of them alive.” 

Moving your hair out of your face to look at him, you furrowed your brow feeling sorry for him as you processed his statement. 

“Are you all alone out here?”

The concerned look on your face quickly fell to anxiety as you feared you may be prying too much into his personal life. Getting ready to speak again, Seonghwa stopped you with the gentle raise of his hand and smiled. 

“You’re not overstepping any boundaries, my dove. When I agreed to sit with you, pen in hand with the recorder running, I alleviated all forms of privacy for you. You may ask me whatever you feel called to ask. I’m yours for the evening.” 

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you silently acknowledged him, and thanked him for being so tender with you. His velvet voice pulled you from your thoughts. 

“To answer your previous question though, yes, I am all alone. It was lonely at first, but after a while it became comfortable. Perhaps preferred. I did find that recently though, the exigent desire for a partner has been pulling at my heartstrings.” 

“With your interest in the nightlife here, surely it shouldn’t be too hard to find yourself a companion. Not to mention if you’re speaking romantically, I’m sure you’d find yourself plenty of options.” 

You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth, but it was already in the air now and you just had to hope and pray that he’d let it slide.

“What are implying?” 

Of course, he wouldn’t. 

“I’m just saying…that, you know, you are an attractive guy. It seems like you’d have a particularly easy time…weeding through people.” 

“You think I have a lot of suitors?” 

Seonghwa had his arms folded across his chest now, gaining pleasure from making you squirm. 

“I’m saying that I think you’d have a fair amount of people to choose from, not necessarily that they’d be worthy of your time.” 

You brought the pen up to your lips, feeling your anxiety swirl in your body as Seonghwa continued to hanker down on you. You glanced over at your notebook again, seeing what you could ask to divert the subject but before you had the chance to speak, Seonghwa was prying. 

“Worthy of my time?” 

“From first impressions, you seem…difficult to entertain. Not to be impressed by the bare minimum, which if considering this town, there is a lot of.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, smiling without showing his teeth. His aura radiated a slimy smugness that irritated you but also ignited a fire within you. 

“I’d beg to differ. There are a select few I’ve come across. I wouldn’t be so certain in your statement.” 

Your mind was swarmed with questions, most of them centering around who he was entertaining and if you even spared a shot with him. 

“Have you found a lover yet then?”

With Seonghwa still hovering over the desk, he looked so much larger than usual. He commanded even more attention and you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away from his as he stared you down. When he spoke, he raked his eyes over your form and was begging whatever deity was out there that you’d pick up on his hints. 

“I’ve found who I want to be mine, she just doesn’t know it yet. I’ve been leaving her clues, paltry I know, but I beg that she pick up my scent soon.” 

“Like a secret admirer?”

“You can call it that, yes. What I feel for her though is more than what a secret admirer could possess.” 

You felt your heart drop, not even letting the delusion have time to manifest to let you think that this “she” was you. You nodded your head and looked toward your notebook again scanning over your questions to see where you wanted to take the interview next. As you went to look up at Seonghwa again, you noticed that unabated gloss cast over his eyes again. The other thing you noticed was that his eyes seemed to change color. It was hard to tell for sure in the dim lighting of the study, but you swore you were seeing flecks of red in his irises. 

As you inhaled to speak, you felt your body freeze and an indistinguishable tingle ran rampant through your limbs. Panic registered across your pupils as you tried to move but soon recognized that you were glued to the chair. Your limbs were attached to the wood of the desk as if your skin were made to melt into the surface. Suddenly as you looked at Seonghwa, you realized that you recognized this feeling, the energy that was emanating across from you. It was all too familiar.

It wasn’t sleep paralysis. It was him.

“Ahh, yes it was, my dove. I’m disheartened that it took you this long. Thought the journal would’ve been clue enough.” 

Feeling that static in your fingers trail up your arm and down through your body, you felt control over yourself again. You pressed your back flesh against the chair, a feeble attempt at creating space between you two. Your vision was unfocused for a moment and in the blur created, you understood that the man across you was the figure in the corner of your room last night. Your breath quickened with fear, but something else mixed in with your emotions that you couldn’t quite place yet. 

“Y-you we’re in my room last night?… Why?” 

Seonghwa stood up slowly, his hands planted firmly on the desk. His frame which was at first sleek and inviting was now imposing and ravening. His eyes were boring into you making you feel so minuscule under his gaze. His tone was low, almost near a whisper, but his next words sent a chill down your spine. 

“Because I can’t bear to leave you alone.”

Your eyes blew wide in panic, fear present in your features. You wondered how you could find a way out of this, a way to remedy the situation but you felt completely and utterly trapped. You looked behind you to the door of the study and defeat enveloped you as you came to the conclusion that any attempt you made to escape would prove to be fruitless. As you returned your gaze to Seonghwa, he was shaking his head, a grin cast on his face. 

“How could you even think about leaving so early when we haven’t finished the interview yet, y/n? I’ve looked forward to this all day, I’d hate for it to end so soon.” 

Seonghwa furrowed his features into a pout, persuading you to swallow your fear and sit forward. Maybe, if you indulged in him he’d let you leave. As Seonghwa sat back in his seat, a new wave of questions ran through your brain. Whether or not you’d include this in the posted interview, you needed closure for yourself. Asserting yourself in your spot, you sat taller, your gaze piercing his as he did to you moments before. Your voice carried a dominance that hadn’t been present all evening. 

“How long have you been following me?” 

“Fiesty are we?”

“Hwa, how long have you been on my tail?”

“My dove, I’m disappointed. How could you not realize all those rotten feelings you felt when you stepped out of your car were because of me?” 

His face was sickening, he was enjoying this. The smile that painted his face was sardonic and it made acrimony bubble within you. All those weeks where you felt like you were going brainsick were because of him. 

I can’t believe him right now

“Better start believing y/n. At least you have the comfort of knowing you’re not demented.” 

“Stop doing that!” 

It was freaking you out that nearly every thought you had about him he had a response to. He was inside your head and you couldn’t place how he was doing it. 

“Doing what, darling?” 

“That! Being in my head! How are you doing that?!” 

Your fear was making you hostile and agitated. You felt completely out of control and you hated every second of it. You were in a stranger’s house, agreeing to come based on the hopes that you’d get something out of this and now you were shackled in this room with a stalker. You stared down at your notebook trying to fit the pieces of all of this together. The thought finally dawned on you that he knew where you lived, and it was no mere coincidence that the journal you found at your front door perfectly matched the pen he gave you. Your eyes landed on a bookshelf behind you and you noticed a horrifying similarity between what was sitting on the shelves and what was resting underneath your hands.

“Ask me.” 

Your head whipped to Seonghwa’s voice, not daring to disrespect him for you were fearful of the consequences. 

“Ask you what?” 

“Ask me how I know your thoughts.”

You inhaled a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the answer you were about to be given. Sighing you looked straight into his eyes, and that’s when you noticed the color of them changed. A deep carmine colored his irises now. Your eyes squinted, trying to understand his motive now. 

“How do you know what I’m thinking.” 

He inhaled a breath, mocking you. He smiled at you, something sickeningly sweet about it. 

“Vampirism. Vampirism is how I know. Vampirism is also how I’ve been able to stalk you without the thought of me ever crossing your mind. It’s the reason why I was in your bedroom, why I could never leave your thoughts, why you were entranced by me. By design, you were meant to be allured by me and you were. Which is why you’re sitting across from me.” 

You were stunned. You always entertained the idea of supernatural creatures, but never did you think that were actually real. Never in your lifetime did you think that you’d be face to face with a vampire and with that knowledge you were now more fearful of your situation. Your next words flew from your mouth without any chance to filter. 

“What do you feed on?” 

Seonghwa leaned forward and smiled, the tip of one of his fangs peeking out onto his bottom lip. 

“Whatever I can get my hands on. I have to say though, the more fear that exudes from my dinner makes the taste that much more delectable. And you, my sweet y/n, are absolutely intoxicating right now. Almost as sweet as last night. Gods, it took everything in me not to devour you then.” 

You held your composure, but something stirred in your lower stomach. Radiating heat between your thighs. 

Arousal. 

You were feeling aroused by his words, and you were ashamed by it. Here you were, at the mercy of a stranger and yet, you were aroused by the transparency of his truths. You tried to push the feeling to the back of your mind, but something was bringing your innermost fantasies about Seonghwa forward. His eyes were indulging in you in sheer gluttony, looking at you like prey and you couldn’t help but think that he was holding back on what his inner monologue consisted of. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” 

You leaned forward, asserting yourself now that a lustful wave crashed over your body. 

“So that’s what gets you off? Carnal urges, is it?” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“While true, it is what I heard prior to you speaking.” 

Rolling your tongue across your teeth, you were through with the antics. 

“What’s on your mind now, Hwa?” 

He smiled flashing his teeth, his fangs on full display. 

“Truthfully, I’m running through all the ways I want to consume you. To make you mine. And it’s becoming quite painful to ignore.” 

You wanted to call his bluff, to catch him off guard even with the disadvantage of him invading the privacy of your mind. You stood up from the chair, the legs creating a painful scratching sound across the wood. You walked around the edge of the desk and positioned yourself in front of him, gently laying your hand on the table in front of his, your fingertips barely touching. Leaning down, you stared into his piercing garnet eyes damning yourself to cosset in the feelings that were licentious in nature. Wetting your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, you felt your eyes blow in temptation and you knew he was aware of every second of it. 

“Then do something about it. Live up to this lavish vampiric character you’ve laid out for me.”

With the passing of a second, the roles of power drastically shifted. His body moved with a swiftness that you hadn’t experienced and before you had a chance to register what happened, you were caged underneath his frame with your hips nailed against the side of the desk. His slender hand snaked its way to your neck, wrapping his deft fingers around your face and forcing you to look at him. 

“Careful, pet. I don’t think you understand the gravity of your words.” 

Eyes darkening with lust, you smirked at him feeling a sense of power as you watched him lose control in front of you. Moving your body to sit on top of the desk, you rolled your neck, exposing your most vulnerable space of skin to him.

“You reek of luxuria, have you any shame?” 

“Not any more than you.” 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you trailed your hand up to the nape of his neck, goosebumps forming in its wake. You curled your fingers into the hair resting on his neck feeling fulfilled as you watched his body shiver in unabashed desire for you. His chest heaved heavy breaths as his lust for you was becoming harder to control. Seonghwa let his head fall into the conjunction of where your neck and shoulder met, his breath creating an intense humidity that only aided your arousal. 

Pulling at his hair, you positioned him to look at you head-on. His eyes were blown wide, the red of his irises nearly covered up by the black of his pupils. His breathing was still heavy and you could feel a small bulge prodding at your inner thigh. Rolling your hips into his, you watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, only the white of his sclera showing. As he breathed out, a small whimper was swallowed in his throat. Pulling at his hair, he opened his eyes to look at you. 

“Devour me, Seonghwa.” 

Any suppression of his feelings turned into a zealous carnal display of affection. His lips were on yours in a second, hot and impassioned. His hands roamed over the exposed flesh of your thighs, indenting the skin with his fingers each time he squeezed. Your head was squirming with floating ideas and wrestling with the plain fact that you were getting exactly what you wanted. 

As Seonghwa swiped your bottom lip, silently asking for permission, you parted your mouth just enough to grant your tongues the freedom to fight for dominance. With one roll of your tongue into his mouth, the side of your tongue was swiped by the point of his fang. It sent a chill down your spine but excited you even further. Feeling bold, you closed the space of your lips and bit down on his bottom lip, pulling away from him as you watched him with hooded eyes. 

Letting your hands snake down his torso, you hooked your fingers into his belt loops pulling him closer to your clothed center. Gently rolling your hips, you were thankful that you wore a skirt as your aching cunt ghosted over his jean covered cock. Looking up at him, your eyes were blown and you could feel the sexual adrenaline raging through your body. 

“I want you, Seonghwa. I want you to make me yours.” 

Seonghwa looked down at you, a knowing smirk painting his mouth as he gingerly put his finger under your chin. 

“Aww, how sweet. But darling, you were mine the moment I laid my eyes upon you, don’t you get that? I just needed that sweet invitation to fall from your pretty lips.” 

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa’s hands found their way underneath the fabric of your shirt. His hands were like ice, but the contrasting temperature soothed the raging heat dancing across your skin. There was an uncontrollable need and you felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. Your body kept rolling into his and you couldn’t quell the small moan that escaped your throat. 

“Excited, hmm?” 

Your eyes were pleading, needing to feel something other than his hands roaming your body. 

“Do something, please. I’m begging you.” 

Seonghwa brought his face to the side of yours so that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. He was breathing slowly, almost methodically and it made your heartbeat race. When he spoke, your eyebrows furrowed at his lower tone.

“Just something?”

You mewled at him, tired of the teasing, but what he did next was not what you expected. One of his fangs made contact with the sensitive skin of your neck and you moaned out as the tip of it impaled your skin. Seonghwa pulled away, his tongue swiping at the tiny drop of crimson staining his tooth. His eyes darkened as he smirked at you and indulged in your metallic taste. You felt him roll his hips into yours, his cock growing harder as he imagined how it would feel to feed off of your naked body. 

Growing impatient from the wanton ache that settled in your cunt, you pushed Seonghwa away from you and your body off of the desk. Making yourself as big as possible, you guided his body backward until his knees met the lip of the couch in the study. As his form gracefully plopped into the cushions, you tore your top off throwing it on the floor behind you. You straddled Seonghwa’s thighs, grinding your hips down into him as you made contact with his lap. You cupped his face as you let your body control your actions rather than your mind. Pulling him close, your lips danced a dangerous waltz of spit and tongue as he began to feel dizzy from the intensity.

Seonghwa was enjoying this obscene side of you, his nimble fingers gripping at your skin any chance he got. Pulling away from his lips, his mouth chased yours not ready for the kiss to end so soon. Placing your hands on his chest, you allowed yourself the time to admire his form. His perfectly sculpted body that was encased so delicately by the mesh he wore. You sucked your bottom lip behind your teeth as you gripped the fabric into your fist grinding down into his erection. 

His hips rolled up into yours and his breathing quickened as he devoured you with his eyes. 

“Enjoying yourself?” 

“More than you know.” You panted out

Seonghwa patted your thigh and nodded his chin behind you. 

“Up.”

You pushed yourself off of him, suddenly hyper-aware of your insecurities. They didn’t have long to manifest as his voice pulled you from your thoughts. He grabbed your hand leading you out of the study, down the hallway, and guided you into his bedroom. 

“Never. Think such dreadful things about yourself, my dove.”

Seonghwa gently placed you down on the edge of his opulent bed, his bedroom far too extravagant for you to fully appreciate right now. Nodding his head behind you, you understood his cue to scoot back and your eyes never left him as he crawled over your body. 

“It’s simply just, if I’m going to ravage you in the ways I’ve dreamt so vividly, it wasn’t going to happen on that vapid couch.” 

He placed gentle kisses on your jawline, nipping slightly at the skin near your earlobe. Seonghwa then dragged his nose down the valley of your breasts and stopped at the hemline of your skirt. The heat and your arousal turn near suffocating under the constraints of your panties. 

“You deserve to be tasted, worshipped. To be given a night of passion. And I, my sweet y/n, am going to give you all of that and more.” 

His voice turned more gruff the more his sentence trailed on. What you failed to realize was that due to the angle he was at, your arousal was like his personal parfum and it was dreadfully intoxicating. He acted with no haste as he dragged your skirt down your legs, taking your underwear with it. You felt embarrassment quickly wash over your body as you felt the stick of your arousal stretch between your needy lips and the ruined cotton. 

Now fully exposed to him, you had nowhere to hide and it excited you. He pressed his nose against your clit, the action sending a savage bolt of lust through your body. Your body shivered as he took a deep inhale of your scent, his tongue following soon behind with a flattened lick across your folds. The moan that left you was covetous and echoed off the walls of his bedroom. 

Seonghwa lapped at your folds like a ravenous dog and your sounds only egged him on. Your hips were riding his face, unable to get enough of him. When your hand found refuge in his inky locks, he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations bringing you to the precipice of your orgasm. With one hand gripping at his hair and the other fisting the sheets, you were moaning like a rapacious whore. 

“Hwa, fuck! Hwa I’m gonna cum!” 

Seonghwa gripped his hands tighter around your hips, shoving your cunt as close as possible to his mouth. Seonghwa focused on your clit, fluttering his tongue against your sensitive bud before sucking your orgasm right out of you. 

“Fuckfuckfuck!” 

Seonghwa didn’t give you a chance to ride out your first orgasm, instead, he continued sucking on your tender rosebud and let the aftershock of your second climax wash over you. Your body shook in intervals of vibrating lust. Chillis littering your body as you relished in the feeling he just bestowed upon you. Lifting himself from between your legs, he hovered over you with a satisfied smirk plastered on his lips. Soon his lips were on yours again and the tangy taste of yourself swept across your tastebuds. Pulling away from you, he began unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You taste even better than what I dreamt of.” 

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that he wanted you just as bad and your mouth moved quicker than your mind. 

“Y-you’ve dreamt of me?” 

An airy chuckle left his throat. 

“Darling, if you question my likening for you one more time tonight, I’m going to have to chain you to my bed and fuck any trace of doubt out of you.” 

Your hole squeezed around nothing and courage found itself in you again. Flipping your bodies over, you sat on top of his lap, your arousal spreading all over the top of his jeans. Undoing his belt, the sexual tension was fervid and it was as if you couldn’t move your hands fast enough. His cock was straining against the layers of fabric and you needed it straining against your walls. 

Pulling his jeans down his legs with his underwear, you knelt down, prepared to offer up all your oral skills known to man. Before you could ghost your lips over his tip, Seonghwa’s hand found your chin and titled you to look up at him. 

“There will be plenty of times for you to taste me, tonight though is about our collective ecstasy. To lose ourselves in one another.” 

His hand pulled you closer to him and you straddled your legs over his. His leaky and libertine cock teasing your entrance as you hovered over him. His hair lay disheveled across his face all thanks to your hands and he somehow looked even more desirable than before. With puffy lips and heavy eyes, you needed him in every way imaginable. 

Lowering yourself down onto his cock, you weren’t prepared for how big he’d feel as you took him in inch by inch. He thickened as you reached his base and made you feel so full. As you bottomed out on him, both of you moaned in harmonious synchrony that made you wish you could have it on repeat. 

“Hwa~! You’re so—so big.” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you squeezed his length inside of your velvety walls. You placed your hands on his shoulders needing something to ground yourself on. Seonghwa’s hands purchased themselves on your hips awaiting your movements. 

“Call me that again.” 

You rolled your hips, your walls fluttering as you looked down at him. 

“Hwa~” 

You let your forehead rest against his as your body began to ride his perfect cock. Your moans creating the quintessential licentious atmosphere. 

“Hwa, baby…you feel so good.” 

Your mind was racing, not really paying attention to the words that left your mouth. But you wished you did. 

In seconds, the use of the pet name rendered you at his mercy. Only for a moment did his cock leave your seraphic cunt as your bodies were flipped once again. Seonghwa entered you with such a force that you could only describe as concupiscent and raw. Your nails immediately dug themselves into his back and the sounds that left him were more obscene. 

“Oh, God!”

“God is nowhere in this room, nor will he ever be, Pet.”

His moans were tantalizing, hypnotizing you even more so under his spell. His thrusts were deep and calculated, abusing your G-spot with every hit. If God wasn’t in this room, all that Seonghwa was making you feel definitely felt like it. You’d never felt euphoria like this before, it was sinful in every sense of the word and made it feel like there truly was a reason for Him to have died for our sins. Feeling a pool of heat begin to settle near the bottom of your stomach, you wrapped your legs around his waist caging him to you. 

“Y/nnn, I can’t hold myself back much longer.” 

As your walls fluttered around him one more time you shook your head, your voice coming out with more air than you anticipated. 

“Me n-neither.” 

You kissed him again, impassioned and frenzied. Panting against his lips, your nails found solace in his back again. His breath was creating humidity in your neck and you enjoyed every second of it. Looking into his eyes, there was more swimming in them than just lust. 

“I want all of you. I want to feel every part of you Hwa. I need you. I need you so bad, H~wa!” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nails dug deep crescents into his skin. As you begged him for all he had to give he did just that as his mouth snuck its way to your neck and his fangs sunk into your skin. 

The feeling of the puncture was just what you needed to peer over the horizon of your orgasm and crash into the sea of its entirety. Seonghwa was still pumping his hard cock into you and then you felt a familiar warmth flood your walls. Your body squirmed underneath him and slowly your vision began to blur. Before you had the chance to completely lose consciousness, you watched Seonghwa slice his tooth into his wrist and felt the crimson drain over your lips as he pressed his wrist to your mouth. 

“Drink, my sweet dove.” 

His voice was so sweet. Like a siren’s as you drifted into a slumber that was filled with nothing but pleasure. 

~*~

When you awoke, you were still lay in his massive bed, but your body was covered in a black silk nightgown and you smelled faintly of sandalwood and frankincense. You turned your head to the left and then to the right only to find that the bed was empty. 

Where did he go? 

You pushed yourself up to sit in the bed only to be met with the worst headache in your life. It felt like your entire body was pounding in pain and the drumming of it only kept getting louder. Wincing, you heard the handle click open on the bedroom door, revealing Seonghwa with an assortment of food, water, and a glass of red liquid. Wine maybe? 

“I could hear you worrying from across the house. Trust, I’ll never be far from you. Now—I know you’re probably in a decent amount of pain right now, but it’ll soon fade in the next few days. Your body can still take normal food just not in large quantities. Here.” 

His voice trailed off as he tore a piece of the croissant laying on one of the few small plates on the tray. Holding it up, he raised his eyebrows encouraging you to open your mouth. Obliging, you gently took the piece of bread from him, chewing slowly as you tried to make sense of your reality. 

“Did you…did you turn me?” 

“Yes.” 

You nodded. 

“So that means, I’ll be like this forever? Like you?…With you?” 

You saw something like fear flash in his eyes for a moment. Or maybe it was regret?

“Yes. And if you’d like to spend your days with me then it does seem that way my sweet dove. If you feel otherwise I will not hold you back. Although, I will admit I will have a hard time staying away from you.” 

He smiled, almost jokingly in a way that softened your heart. 

This must be who he is behind that mask

“Forever with you doesn’t sound so bad.” 

You blinked up at him, a smile spreading across your own face. 

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

taglist: @blackswann-53098 @tunaasan @bellamuerte1987 @seonghwasstar

[louloulemons-posts]

Rainy Days and Lattes

Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader

Summary : Steve goes to get a treat for him and Robin and ends up meeting you.

Word Count : 0.6k

Warnings : Pure fluff, not proofread, 4am writing 🫶🏻, steve is a cutie, just a cute little meet cute drabble, autumn-y rainy days (i am ready for the ber months) no use of y/n, fem pronouns, reader calls steve pretty.

A/N : Guys I don’t know how it happened but we hit 700 followers?!?! I am in shock! Thank you all so much for the love and support it means so much to me 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Steve had gone on his break, planning on fetching himself and Robin some warm drinks and sweet treats. He headed into the cafe at the end of the block.

It was quiet today, the autumn weather rolling in fast. Leaves turning from green to yellows and oranges, it was beautiful. Although it was damp, drizzling rain fell on him, speeding up to get out of it. Pushing the door open, a small bell jingled above him.

There were a few people sat inside : an older couple, a woman deeply interested in her book, a man and his daughter and two teenagers who were giggling away. Steve smiled, he enjoyed people watching.

Looking up at the boards and the glass cabinets he thought about what to get for Robin - probably opting for the sweetest thing they had.

“Hi, can I help you?” a voice spoke from the counter. Looking up he met your gaze, god you were beautiful. “Uh .. Hi, can I get um,” be cool man, relax, relax.

“Can I please get a hazelnut hot chocolate and a latte please,” he spoke, finally getting his words out. “Sure, is it to drink now?” you smiled.

“Take out please.” He was scared to meet your gaze again, worried he’d be tongue tied and embarrass himself.

He didn’t do as well with girls now as he used too, and well you were probably the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Okidoki, anything else?” you asked, taking his order into the register. “What’s the sweetest cake you have?” he asked.

“Maybe the brownies? or the millionaires shortbread, they’re both filled with caramel,” you explained, whilst pointing them out in the cabinet.

“Could I get one of each?”

“Sure,” you smiled at him again - secretly hoping he’d meet your gaze, cause gosh he was so pretty. “Okay thats $8.65 all together.” After exchanging cash and change you spoke again, “You can wait here or I’ll bring your things over.”

“I’ll wait,” he spoke gently, “Are you new here?” he asked. He’d been here before a few times and never seen you. “Not really. I don’t normally work this shift it’s all, and if I do I’m normally making cakes out the back,” you told him.

He hummed and nodded as he did so. “You come in here a lot?”

“Me and my friend take it in turns, we work at Family Video down the street.”

“Ah I see,” you nodded as you frothed some milk for the latte.

“I might start asking her if I can come here everytime we’re on together,” he spoke up.

“Oh yeah why’s that?” you asked, mouth curving into a slight smile. “Well there’s this really beautiful barista I’d like to see again.”

You nodded, pouring the hot drink into a cup. “Right, and if that barista was completely flattered because such a pretty boy wanted to see her again?”

“He’d ask her out, ask to see her out of this awful uniform.”

Huffing a laugh, you slid his cakes over the counter, turning to finish off his drinks.

“Well she’d be interested, can I take your name for her?”

“It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” you repeated, a smile now consuming your lips. “Mhm, that’s me.”

“I’ll let her know,” you spoke over your shoulder. Sliding the cups into sleeves and placing them in a cup holder so he wouldn’t hurt himself, you handed them over.

“Well it was nice meeting you Steve.”

“You too, have a good day.” You watched him walk out the shop, giving you a goofy smile and carry on his way.

Looking down at his latte cup he noticed some scribbles on the side. Moving as quickly as he could he headed back to work, passing Robin the cakes, to decide which she wanted and her hot choc.

He slid the sleeve off the cup and couldn’t help grinning, it was a number and a name. Your number and name. “God Dingus, you finally get your game back,” Robin teased from beside him.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, smiling as he took as sip of what may have been the best coffee of his life.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[rosystardust]

Yandere rottmnt

Rottmnt yandere writing (Romantic)

Warning: Mentions of violence, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping. (Do not do any of this in real life, this is just for entertainment purposes)

(Notes: I’m changing Y/n to Mc or just saying you)

Sorry this took so long to post, but I had writers block and it took me a while to write.

Raph

Overprotective and clingy 

He just wants to keep Mc safe and protected, and the best way to do that is to always be around them

He loves hugging Mc because if they’re in his arms, nothing will hurt them, so he cuddles with Mc a lot

As the oldest, he feels responsible for his family's safety, and he includes you in that, so he absolutely loves when you depend on him for anything, it doesn’t matter what it is, it could be just getting something off a shelf, or helping you train

Is very careful around you, because of all his spikes and that he’s just so big and could hurt you so very easily, and he’ll always try to keep you away from his spikes, just in case

Raph wishes he didn’t have to deal with being a Hamato, and fighting villains, and almost dying a lot, because you spend less time together because of it, and you’re in danger cause you’re friends with him

He’ll try and find the courage to confess first, but if you do, he won’t have any issues with it 

If Raph confesses first, then it’ll be on accident, he just blurted it out while you two were cuddling or something

Loves to just be with you, you two don’t maven have to do anything, he just likes being around you

As much as he loves affection is private, he gets so embarrassed with PDA, and doesn’t like it that much

Leo

Manipulative, self-indulgent

Leo wants to be needed by Mc

He’s highly insecure about himself, and he wants to feel helpful to them because he associates his worth with what he can do for others

If Mc comes to Leo with their problems, Leo will feel so proud of himself, and he will do anything to help

Will try to isolate Mc from people, so he can be the only one they depend on

Very manipulative, he makes it seem like isolating you from everyone is a good thing because they “Never really cared about you” or “Are just using you” and other various excuses that he has come up with to keep you with him

The only people you’re allowed to communicate with other than him, are his brothers, Splinter, April, and Casey (he does not trust anyone else with you)

He gets jealous very easily and always wants attention and affirmation that he’s worth it, and that you love him

He seems very cocky and jokes around a lot, but he’s actually insecure and uses jokes to hide it

He’s very affectionate, and caring, but he can be overbearing a lot

Donnie

Impulsive, dependant 

Donnie has definitely hacked into the street cameras near your house, and the school cameras, so he can always watch you

Most likely has at least two trackers on you, and checks them every few hours

He craves your affirmation, and does so many things to impress you, like inventing things that would interest you, or being reckless to protect you

If Mc compliments him, he’ll be so very happy, because like Leo, he’s very insecure

Will try and get you to spend as much time with him as possible, but he's not that jealous, cause he knows you can never replace him

He does worry about it, but he's convinced himself you love him back, because why else would you give him, and only him, compliments

Donnie will only make a move, and ask you out if his brothers or April pressure him enough, or if you give him hints that you like him, however, hes extremely dense and doesn’t get social cues, so even if you flirted with him everyday, he’d never notice it

If you confess first, then he’ll automatically accept, but he’ll definitely try to hide his obsession with you, even more than before 

All he wants is a cute domestic relationship with you, but he’d never admit it

Mikey

Worshiping, obsessive 

Sees Mc as some sort of god, that must be worshiped and praised, and will do absolutely anything for them

Is either very shy around you, or ecstatic to see you, but either way he loves being around you, and he sees it as a gift from you, that he gets to spend the most time with you

Has a closet in his room that’s just filled with stuff you gave him, stuff he stole from you, photos of you, or just stuff that reminds him of you

He does somewhat try to hide his obsession, but he wouldn’t really care that much if you found out, unless you left him for it

Mikey is extremely energetic with his fighting style as is, but if / when he fight people for you (They’re either trying to hurt you or they already have) he’s even more energetic, and much more violent

If it means protecting you, he’ll do anything, even if it's morally wrong or illegal  

If you find out he’s obsessed and you do try and leave him he’ll be devastated, he sees you as a god like being, so clearly the only reason you left is because he’s not good enough for you, or he did something to offend you

He’ll try and get you back by any means necessary, even if you try and cut contact with him

But if you don’t then Mikey will be the happiest person ever, and will probably ask to marry you

[house-of-slayterr]

Comfort Character Heaccanons:

An: because these are the easiest thing for me to write right now, I’m trying to ease out of my writers block

The Lost Boys

David is very dad coded, I think he sees himself as the oldest needing to take care of his “brothers” but wanting to turn Star and Micheal, that’s because David wants away from Max. He’s technically the true leader of their little coven but he wants to takes Max’s place. Being a maker in important to him and as grumpy and stoic as he usually in, he loves and would do any thing for him coven. He’s attached to the boys because he’s known them so long, but the way he feels about his own progeny is much stronger of a bond. Laddie even is special to him because he’s the baby of the family and must be protected at all times.

Dwayne gives me serious caregiver vibes. The way David entrust him with the safety of Laddie because he sees how close the boys are. He loves taking care of Paul and Marko too. He smiles the most when his little ones are around. He gives the best cuddles and even loves to hunt when the others are too small to hunt for themselves. Being there to calm the boys and star is.

Marko is the most chaotic of the boys, he likes to push the boundaries to see what he can get away with. Despite being less flirty than Paul Marko almost always seduces his prey first, enjoying talking to them and watching him trust them before he devours them. Marko is also an age regressor, I believe he longs for a time when he was still human deep down. When things were more simple and easy for him. I think he regresses quite young, almost around laddies age which is why they get along so well. Dwayne and Paul are little Markos favourites

Paul is also an age regressor, he didn’t even realise for years he was doing it until Dwayne pointed it out to David. He regresses a little younger than Marko meaning he needs more help. Even laddie loves to help take care of little Paul. Paul loves being a vampire when he’s little however, he insists Dwayne and Star take him hunting so he can watch. Dwayne hated it at first not wanting his little eyes to see the violence but when he hears Paul giggle watching them his heart feels much lighter. Paul is a very needed little one, but he was already a needy and clingy adult so no one in the coven is surprised when he won’t let them go. Poor boy is so touch starved.

Now if the boys take on less of a family role in their coven and see each other more as best friends, I believe this is how I would pair them off. Star becomes a full vampire not just a fledgling and ends up with Dwayne. They have their own micro-family with Laddie. David finally gets Micheal and I think they’re super cute together. The relationship gets healthier the longer the boys are together. They’re in charge of the coven together, Dwayne stepping down for Micheal so he can focus on Star and Laddie. And last Marko and Paul cannot be separated at any cost, big or little they can and will bite and claw their ways back to each other. Paul is Marko’s rock.

Slashers:

Herbert West is Aro/ace I believe. He doesn’t show much interest in that side of his life, despite most of his colleague dating or being married. Even his own best friend has heart eyes for a girl right now and he hates it. I do think he could handle a queer platonic relationship, something a little deeper than just friendship. But anything past that is foreign retorts the scientist does not want to investigate in the slightest. He wants to be closer with Dan but worries their relationship dynamic might ruin Dan’s romantic relationship. But in the end Herbert gets what he wants and Dan is already wrapped around his finger.

Micheal is strange, he grew up in a way that didn’t fully allow him to grow up. Sure his body is an adult but his mind wanders to some of his first kills when he was a boy or teen often. It’s not quite a full regression state, more he’s stuck in the past and has zero plans for his future. Micheal knows one thing and that’s killing, he hides his complexities even from himself, dumbing himself down to just being the town slasher and pretending he doesn’t exist the other half of the time.

Lester Sinclair doesn’t give me Cis energy for some reason. He’s gives off character who’s non binary but just says their birth gender to make things “easier”. Plus growing up where he did, I doubt he ran into many trans or queer people. I see him as a Demi-boy and could totally see them rocking more femme outfits if it were for Bo. Femme boy Lester keeps me going.

Jason Voorhees is an age regressor I don’t care what anyone says. I believe his brain stayed the age it was when he drowned. All he wants is to feel safe and have a good time at summer camp and to be close to his mama. Jason throws tantrums after she’s gone, if he can’t hallucinate her or talk to her shine he looses his mind, breaking down and breaking everything in his path. He’s a mama’s boy til the day he dies and he needs her. I think he stays at camp because now he gets to experiences all the fun parts without the bullying, he just gets to be kid Jason chilling in a cabin. That’s also why he kills anyone who enter for disturbing his peace and comfort.

Billy & Stu are gay for each other, that much is cannon. But I think they work well because of their dynamic. Billy gives me caregiver energy and Stu gives me flip energy. The reason Stu started to grow disinterested in Tatum is because he was stuck being both dom and caregiver for far too long. With Billy he’s allowed to regress or not be in charge and just let his Brian heal from whatever was bothering him that day. He trust Billy with his life and would do anything for him. Billy loves taking care of Stu whether it’s as his boyfriend or as his caregiver. He’s surprisingly better at the caregiver side than he is the boyfriend side. But then again he hasn’t had a lot of practice on the boyfriend department yet. He thinks little Stu is the cutest thing to walk this earth. But equally enjoys when his boyfriend is big and decides he wants to be the more dominant one that day, he’ll step aside to let Stu have his moment

Billy Lenz is a depraved perverted boy, we all know that. But I can’t even begin to describe how many kinks this man would have. For starters he has a blood kink that much is obviously, he loves playing in it, tasting it, the colour, everything. He gets hard when he tortures his victims thinking about the delicious things he could do to them. I don’t think he understands the concept of right and wrong and would go far enough as to play with a victim after they passed for his own gratification. Billy also would have a mommy kink, his mommy issues run deep and if he felt like they were giving him any sort of affection like that he would cling to them and keep them alive longer. His Brian will view the interaction sometimes and just gentle motherly comfort, that he desperately needs, or because it’s Billy his mind always wonders to sexual desires. I don’t think there would be any ways to calm this man libido he’s just a horny freak even in his sleep.

Misc:

Spencer Reid has autism, even if the show was too cowardly to fully commit to it. Along with his photographic memory it surpassingly makes the boy good at a lot more than you’d think. A lot of people think Spencer is very innocent, the type to be bashful when holding hands with a girl, but no, his hands are very skilled and he loves to use them. I headcannon he likes to finger his partner under his desk or at the couch when he’s reading or studying paperwork for his job. He finds it fun to split his focus and mess with them. He’s also really good with his mouth when he needs to be kept quiet. The boy genius is as much of a genius in the bedroom as he is at school and work.

Abby Sciuto is an age regressor for sure. Her comfort item when she’s big or little is her stuffed hippo. Her caregivers are Gibbs and McGee, but mostly Gibbs, she feel safest with him and he loves taking care of her. Gibbs doesn’t let her have Caff pow when she’s clearly regressing after a long day, the last thing he needs is a hyper toddler Abby running around the precinct. Ducky comes up to babysit sometimes when Gibbs and McGee are out on case because he knows she’s scared of the autopsy room.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs may have more than one ex wife, but he does know how to keep a woman satisfied, in the bedroom at least. He’s not great at communication and feelings and being open, that’s why his relationships crumble and fall apart. But he’s been on this earth a long time now, he’s ripe bee keeping age. He doesn’t mind if his partner is a big younger than him, but he prefers women his age. He likes to take his time in the bedroom just like he takes his time with his boat

Barry Allen is another you would expect to be innocent. But this man has a dirty mind he keeps well hidden. He’s all smiles and giggles and himbo with his friends at work, but when it’s just him and his partner behind closed doors it’s different. Barry is a switch, sometimes he has a need for control, galaxy after difficult missions, but he doesn’t mind giving up control either. He enjoys the dynamic of playing both sides. I also fully believe this man is bisexual, he simple just doesn’t have a lot of experience with men yet.

An: I wrote this twice because my phone deleted the better first draft for no reason 😭 sorry if my headcanons were all over place I had to rewrite them from memory.

Tag: @mothmans-kingdom @kados-of-chaos @oceansrose2002 @myers-meadow