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bones4thecats · 1 month

Note

Beelzebub, Poseidon, Jack and Nikola with a s/o that's like 10X stronger than they are, like reader doesn't look like it at all but they can just pick them up and throw them over their shoulder with not even a little bit of their power wasted, reader is also known all around like a powerful and authority figure, they're a head god/goddess (kinda like Zeus and Odin)

Them With a Head God and Strong! S/O

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Beelzebub, Poseidon, Jack the Ripper, and Nikola Tesla Name: Them With a Head God and Strong! S/O Requester: Anonymous

A/N: These readers are all from different FAKE Pantheons, so you won’t be able to find any information out. But, they are all slightly inspired by the Bible, the Sinto, and the Greek Pantheon. By the way, here are the four different regions the FAKE Pantheons are from/set; Hierarchie - Germany ║ Hiérarchie - France ║ Jiēcéng - China ║ Ierarhie - Romania. By the way, these all mean ‘Hierarchy’ just so you guys know

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🪰 You had met Beelzebub back in 2000 B.C.E. at one of your first Gods’ Council Meetings as the leader of your Pantheon, Hierarchie

🪰 He was a very quiet person, and that interested you, due to being a fairly quiet person yourself. And the only reason that Beelzebub actually looked up from his hands was when someone tried to offend him, resulting in you sending a lightning bolt to strike them directly in the head

🪰 When you guys first met, Beelzebub had tried to keep his distance from you, as he didn’t want your Pantheon on his ass if you were to be harmed by this God-forsaken curse he was born with

🪰 Surprisingly, despite his obvious care for you, this curse had never harmed you, it was as if Satan had seen you as worthy of the affections of Beelzebub’s, which made him nearly cry tears of joy

🪰 Now, when it was decided that Ragnarok would have to produce 13 Gods for fighting, it was decided that there would be a Head of Pantheon fighting against a well-respected member of Humanity fighting

(Ignore the Beelzebub and Nikola Tesla fight)

🪰 It was you who was chosen to fight against Humanity’s representatives, the Greatest Warrior in History and by-far the most Successful Military Commander in History, Alexander the Great

🪰 The man had readied his Völundr sarissa as you stood there as he claimed the care that Humanity had and how they could better themselves if given the chance, your husband softly chuckled at your comeback to the pledge

" Let me guess, Brunhilde has been filling your heads with that nonsense? How fitting. She’s always been such a blood-thirsty and crude woman, I wouldn't put it behind her to lie to her assets. Though, despite the ignorant comment, you are not the dumbest man I’ve met, though, you better pray that he doesn’t die, mortal. "

🪰 The Gods erupted in laughter at your insult, and hearing Brunhilde’s swears only made it even better

🪰 Due to being well-known for your barbaric actions in battle and that you loved working your opponents up so they lost due to anger made your Pantheon cheer as Heimdall called out the starting word for Round 8 of Ragnarok

🪰 Now the only thing your husband could do is watch and hope that you come out of this unscathed, if a human could take down the likes of Poseidon, Heracles, and Hades, who knows if they can get you

🔱 As a new head to your Pantheon, Hiérarchie, that originated in the northern land of Gaul, now known as France, by the migratory people

🔱 Poseidon was not amused when Hades had sent him a letter explaining that he was required to come to a meeting between the most powerful members of the multitude of Pantheons across the world

🔱 He had only been there a few minutes when you appeared in complete smoke, covering your feet as you strode in as your right-hand, the God of Life, Vie (life), appeared next to you, spreading light whereas you spread darkness

🔱 During that meeting, Poseidon had snuck quick glaces at you, and the only one to even come lose to noticing was Hades and Vie, who only glanced at you both and shrugged their shoulders

🔱 As you and Poseidon began to speak more and more over the next few thousand years, your relationship grew into a full-on marriage, settling a union between two of the most powerful Pantheons in mythology

🔱 Now, when Ragnarok was proposed by Brunhilde, you were chosen by Zeus to represent the Gods in the third round against an unknown human contestant

(Ignore the Poseidon vs Sasakii Kojiro fight)

🔱 You were set to go against the well-known Greek physician, Hippocrates, also known as the 'Father of Modern Medicine', who had written many different things he had discovered about illnesses, which helped Humanity grow in healing one another

🔱 Staring at the middle-aged man, despite the fact he (supposedly) lived to a very old age, that being 90 years, you scoffed lightly. This action made the physician cock and eyebrow and ask you what the matter was

" You. You are the matter. I'm the head of a Pantheon, a Supreme Deity, and I have to battle against some old man? How repulsive. " " You sound quite arrogant, ma'am/sir. " " Arrogant? Y'know, I was going to be nice and allow you the win so I can get back to doing my real job and handling my people, but now? Forget it. Grab your weapon and ready yourself, human. Because I'm not as nice as some say I am. "

🔱 Gripping his trident tighter as the second passed in the battle, Poseidon was interrupted in his thoughts by his nephew, Ares', screams of support to you as Heracles smiled and cheered for you more quietly

🔱 You were stronger than him... and if he knew he could defeat a human in battle, you definitely would. Right?

" Please be safe, my love... "

🩸 Jack knows for certain that you're powerful, far more powerful than him. Even if he had a clone of himself, you would still win against both, no doubt. You are a Supreme Deity for a reason, after all

🩸 As your Pantheon was made many centuries before England was, you would normally curse people out underneath your breath in severely ancient Chinese, and whenever Jack asked you about your travels back home, you would rather he call it 'Zhongguo', as that is what it was called when you were made

🩸 When Ragnarok was hailed and you walked out of the Council with your smaller-Pantheon following you and the Valkyrie sisters, you were worried... what if Brunhilde chose your husband?

🩸 Unfortunately, Brunhilde had asked if your husband would be willing to participate in the battle to the death. And, being a protective spouse, you shut it down and said you would take his place

🩸 Hearing that news made Jack nearly spit out his tea, he knew you didn't want him to die again and all, but why would you sacrifice yourself like this?

" My love, I am truly sorry for not notifying you about this issue. But, I must admit, I do not wish to see you get thrown around by some punk-God who just wants Humanity destroyed. Unlike them, I know for certain that Humanity is worth fighting for, and I- I don't want you possibly dying for that cause. I'd rather die than live without you for the rest of my life. " " As your husband, I admit the same. An afterlife without you would be like living on Earth without oxygen, I would not be able to handle it. " " How about this; we fight together? After all, neither of us can live without the other, right? " " You always find the most crafty ways of getting out of this accidents, am I correct, Y/N? " " Yes you are, dearest. "

(Ignore that his original opponent was Heracles, he deserves to live U-U)

🩸 Humanity was not happy to hear that they were being represented by a killer duo, that being the supposed Jack the Ripper, a man who killed multiple women throughout the year 1888, and a Deity of Blood-lust and War, one that had tortured many in their conquest to rid the world of threats against your people

🩸 The Gods chosen to fight you both was the twins of Egyptian Mythology, Geb, the God of the Earth, and Nut, Goddess of the Sky. You just so happened to be close to Nut, which resulted in you and her going apart from one another as the battle commenced

🩸 When you and Geb looked into one another's eyes as Jack and Nut looked into their opponent's, Brunhilde looked over you all and clenched her fists

🩸 You both better come out of this alive; she doesn't need to lose someone she holds very dear to her again

🧪 As the Supreme God of the Ierarhie Pantheon, which hailed from the European Country of Romania, you knew of many people coming from nearby lands, including the famous Nikola Tesla, who migrated from his home village in Smijan, Croatia, to North America

🧪 When you both first met, you were speaking to one of your close human friends, Marie Curie, and he noticed how your eyes lit up with amazement as she explained the suit's mechanisms

🧪 He hasn't seen anyone other than his fellow scientists look so gleefully at a piece of machinery before

🧪 As you stood and listened, Nikola had looked at you every once and a while before he was called by Marie, making him turn around and officially meet you

🧪 And he had to admit, you were one of the most gorgeous beings he has ever laid eyes upon. You were even more beautiful than the first invention he ever made

🧪 Ever since that day, you had always come in on your free-days away from Supreme-Deity duties and you would assist the many scientists on what they could do to improve the giant suit for Ragnarok

🧪 Speaking of Ragnarok, when you found out that the man you had grown close to was fighting Beelzebub, one of the most ruthless and mysterious Gods in the entire mixture of Pantheons, you had put your foot down and begun to speak with him about it, resulting in Brunhilde and Zeus making the exception for you to help out during the round, like a fight happening during a fight

🧪 When it was announced that you and Nikola were needed on the battlefield, you had hugged him tightly as he and his Valkyrie, Göndul, prepared and performed their Völundr

🧪 As you gripped your weapon, he looked down on you, gifting you the most gorgeous smile you had ever seen in your entire life of millions of years, and hearing the love-sick words pour out of his mouth made you nearly cry and kiss him for the possible first and last time

" Ljubavi (my love, I think?), I must confess this to you before we make an ultimate sacrifice. I love you, I have ever since I had laid my eyes upon your darling form. And I must do this if we do not make it out alive. "

🧪 When you felt him kiss you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him sigh contently as you kissed him right back. His and your shared fears leaving your minds for a while as the moment continued, the only thing snapping you away is the sound of Heimdall beginning your introductions

" I love you, Y/N. " " And I love you, Nikola Tesla. "

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 10 months

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Hi can you make a story where the reader is secretly abused by her family and ex boyfriend. Her ex boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend and broke up with the reader. Her ex is a rich and when her abusive family learned their broken relationship, they abuse reader everyday. Her family likes her ex, more than her current boyfriend, which is the ror characters. When her current lover learned it, he decided to take an action.

Gods, thor, poseidon, hades, hercules

Human, lubu, jack the ripper, nikola

-You sniffled softly, limping towards your current boyfriend’s house, knowing you would be safe there.

-So much had happened in such a short amount of time, you found your boyfriend of two years in bed with your childhood best friend, and they weren’t even sorry about it, telling you that they had been sneaking around for months now, finding it thrilling.

-When your family found out that you broke it off, not even caring to listen that he was the one cheating, they blamed you for not doing more to keep him happy, thinking was your fault.

-They only liked your ex because he was rich, you were with money, and with the potential of you marrying him one day, they would get some of that money.

-It started off small, slaps across the face, holding your hair to keep you in place while they screamed at you, before moving to beating you every day, telling you how much of a failure you were.

-Your new boyfriend wasn’t anything like that, he treated you so gently and warmly, but was unaware of the abuse from your family, as you did your best to keep it hidden.

-Your family didn’t like him, thinking he was weak, not realizing who he truly was, your abuse only increasing as your family told you to dump him and try to get back with your ex.

-It was after one of those bad beatings that you managed to slip away after being thrown in your room, being called a disgrace.

-When he opened the front door, seeing your bruised and battered body, he instantly had you in his arms and you broke down in harsh sobs, hugging you close.

-After patching you up and getting you calmed down, which was a feat in itself, you told him everything, telling him the truth, from the betrayal of your ex and former best friend, to your selfish family.

-He put you to bed, “Sleep, I’ll be back in a bit.” You held onto his hand, whimpering out that you didn’t want him to get hurt before he pecked your forehead gently, giving you the softness that you so desperately wanted.

-As luck would have it, your ex and his new girlfriend, your ‘best friend’ was with your family, as his family and yours were friends, which made things easy.

-Arrived in an intimidating display of power (lightning/water/shadows and fire), scaring all of them and when your family sees that you were dating not a loser, but an actual god, they were very quick to kiss up. However, his rage could not be quelled, “You abused my beloved Y/N, all for selfish, vile reasons, and you two- betraying someone so kind and loving- you’re the worst type of scum.” Nobody could say anything, your father tried and instantly was struck down violently, no hesitation and no mercy, scaring all of them. He lifted his weapon as they all begged him for mercy, “Why should I give mercy to those who don’t deserve it?” he left, leaving your family terrified, including your father whom he brought back, “If any of you try to touch Y/N again, I won’t hold back this time.” And they knew he was serious.

-Thor, Poseidon, and Hades

-Entered the house with no hesitation and no regard for his actions, only smiling evilly when your dad asked him who he was. He brandished his weapon, scaring all of them, “You hurt my Y/N, in more ways than one. Parents should protect their children, and lovers should be loyal, just as much as friends.” When your dad tried to charge at him, infuriated on being called out, he was instantly cut down, causing screams to echo through the house before he went into a frenzy, killing them all. His rage fueled him, remembering how fragile and scared you looked, furious that you had been treated in such a way. There was no mercy.

-Jack and Lu Bu

-As much as he wanted to take matters into his own hands, he didn’t, taking the evidence, photos of your bruised and battered body, and went to the police, arriving with them at your former home. Your dad was furious, seeing your new boyfriend there, demanding to know what he was doing, lying to the police to get them in trouble for you, calling you a whore. Police had a warrant and tons of people were gathered around outside, including news outlets, reporting on the scene, as police found signs of heavy abuse, as your blood was all over your room, and your family was quickly arrested. While not in trouble like they were, he had no issues telling the news outlets what had happened, that you found your ex and best friend in bed, having an affair for fun, and your family, only using you for money with your ex, turned to abusing you. They faced ridicule for being the cause of the extreme abuse and many called for their arrest as well, ruining them socially. Nobody was ever going to hurt you again.

-Hercules and Nikola

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror thor #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror jack the ripper #ror lu bu #ror heracles #ror nikola tesla

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xxstraymoonchildxx · 3 months

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This Couple is Unusual

Prev. / Next

Chapter 3 This couple, competing

cw: one suggestive implication

The young earl suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, impatiently waiting for the undertaker to stop his hysterical laughter. Undertaker's chest heaved, choking on his gasps of air. He had to support himself on one of his many coffins, wiping off drool from his chin. Amused, you observed the earl whose visible eye twitched slightly and only now do you notice the eyepatch peeking out from under his sidebangs. He hadn’t noticed you yet or was ignoring you on purpose.

The raven-haired butler stood right behind him but his calculating eyes were fixed on Satan. Three more people were with them - a man of Chinese heritage, a lady dressed in red from head to toe, and next to her another butler, timidly looking around and plain as the day compared to the rest.

“Ah, Earl. I was wondering when you’ll step through my doors again. And you couldn’t have arrived at a better time~” Undertaker had finally composed himself, stepping closer to the boy. “Is today the day you have come to see how it feels to sleep in my custom-made coffins?”

A scoff left the kid's lips “I didn’t come here to play arou-” A finger touching his mouth silenced him. “I know exactly why you are here, no need to tell me. Although you are not the only one looking for answers today~” Undertaker grinned, a subtle nod ordering all attention on the two of you.

The air tensed as Ciel Phantomhive narrowed his eye(s), glancing towards his butler, you, and the blond next to you, who had his gloved hand protectively on the small of your back. You raised your hand, waving.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, we’ve met briefly,” Sebastian threw into the room, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. You did the same with Satan, asking him if you should take your leave. He nodded and displayed a practiced smile “We remember, feel free to take no account of us, we were on our way out anyway.” He turned to Undertaker “Again, it was our pleasure. Until next time, should we not solve the case first.”

A bolt of lightning could be imagined between the two of you and them, an unspoken challenge.

You were watched when you walked out, Satan holding the door open for you and you couldn’t help the cheeky upturn of your lips when you passed the boy who looked like Belphegor, the ‘Queen’s watchdog’ Cavendish most likely had warned you about.

The funeral director hummed “The international press is surely committed these days~”

Ciel scoffed. As if some no-name reporters could solve his case.

True to your estimation, Satan was hooked. You spent the next couple of days researching suspects - experts from the medical field, from bourgeoisie to proletariat.

The thesis of the culprit being involved with black magic was also in the room (which was scarily popular during this time) plus there was the possibility of Jack the Ripper being more than one person - a statement by yours truly, so you had the honor of persuading this path on your own so he could make more background checks. With the help of the Sorcerer’s Society and the documentation of the Yard, you were able to narrow down the circle of suspects, even if Satan was way quicker thanks to him being a demon. Were you dragging him down? The avatar of wrath had answered your suspicion with a kiss on your temple and a reassuring smile.

After an exhausting day, you have thrown your jacket on the ground and let yourself fall onto the covers of your bed. Feet aching, your magical energy drained from teleporting and your belly full from the three-course dinner Satan invited you to. Tomorrow, you told yourself, will be a shopping spree day. After all, a promise was a promise, and you were still missing some souvenirs.

Satan joined you shortly after, his fingers grazing your back, playing with the hooks of your bodice holding it together.

“Tired, huh?”

You hummed in agreement, more so when he started to work on the knots of your trapezius. He chuckled at your soft sighs, slowly pulling off the fabric to touch the top of your spine with his lips. “Mhm, not that I don’t like this but I should shower first, don’t you think?” Satan gently turned you around, hovering over you, his blond strands framing his face nicely and green eyes longingly boring into yours.

“Right after, my dear wife.”

A fit of giggles fell from your lips in response to his kisses, suddenly not minding your exhaustion at all.

“We have a promising clue,” Sebastian stated, elegantly serving a new pot of tea to the guests sitting under the chandelier in the drawing room of the Phantomhive manor. “A doctor, knowledgeable in human anatomy, connected to a secret society or black magic: matching with the criteria for the Whitechapel case would be the Viscount Druitt - Lord Aleister Chamber Although he is a medical school graduate, he hasn’t worked in a hospital or been involved in this profession. He has hosted several seasonal parties in the near past, but rumors say various parties were only attendable by those close to him.”

Angeliana Durless alias Madam Red, Ciel’s maternal aunt, leaned back into the comfy parlor chair, finger on her chin “Viscount Druitt…come to think of it, I do recall he has been into black magic lately.”

“He is also suspected of running some sort of secret ceremony during his parties. There is a possibility of him having prostitutes sent in as altar sacrifices for dark rituals and, or selling their organs and body parts to his guests.”

Lau, the second guest argumented, sipping from the delicate cup in his hands.

“Appropriately, he is hosting a party at the 19th hour of this day as the seasonal period will end with it. The ideal time for an investigation, don’t you agree, young master?”

Sebastian smiled eerily, already knowing the answer. Ciel gripped his fork.

“Madam Red, you sure can arrange something, can you?”

She answered with a laugh “What do you take me for, my dear nephew? Aren’t I quite popular? A word here, a word there - I have an invitation in no time~”

/This might be our only chance!/

A few hours later, the carriage arrived at Viscount Druitt’s lavish manor. People in their prettiest gowns and best suits were guided inside.

Ciel Phantomhive crossed his glove-covered arms, waist arching from that torturously tight-laced corset he was forced to wear. For their undercover-mission, he had to pose as his aunt's niece from the countryside and Sebastian being ‘her’ home tutor. Lau, who was uncharacteristically dressed in a smoking suit, was Madam Red's lover for the night. Only Grell was left out from acquiring a new role.

“It seems tonight will be rather enjoyable.” Lau hummed, eyes closed.

/Maybe for you, you don't have to dress up like a girl!/

“Don't make such a face. You look so cute!” his aunt teased, bringing Ciel in a bone-crushing hug “I always wanted to have a daughter to dress up so prettily!”

The Earl blushed, annoyance over his face. /This is humiliating/

He had to wear a blush pink dress with white ruffles and black accents, decorated with bows on the dress itself and over his chest. The equally pink headpiece with a white bow had also pink roses attached and sat nicely on his long twintail wig, hiding his eyepatch perfectly from view. If he had to describe it, it was pompous and utterly girly. Something he'd associate with his fiancé.

“Don't tell me you don’t like it? A lot of cloth had to be used for this to happen, you know. In France, nonetheless. It's all in vogue!”

“Let go of me now, why would I like it?!” Ciel snapped.

“Oh my, shouting so loud isn't becoming of a Lady,” Sebastian immediately reprimanded him with a smile, a gloved hand pushing up his glasses. He too was dressed up handsomely, black suit over a pristine white shirt and an ascot wrapped around the high collar. “Did you not say, you would ‘use any means necessary’?”

Ciels skin took an unhealthy red color but he did remember. Viscount Druitt was a man with catholic taste after all, so him posing as a girl was the perfect coverage, wherever he liked it or not. This was for the case.

“Shall we go then, my Lady?”

As expected, security was tight but they went in without facing any problems. To say the ballroom was packed was an understatement. It would take a while for them to find Lord Chamber.

Ciel started to complain about his get-up, stating he wouldn't want to see his fiancé dressed like this.

“Wow, your headpiece is exquisite!”

“Oh, why thank you!”

The Earl groaned “I'm starting to hear things like she is-”

“Oh, there are so many pretty dresses, but yours looks the best so far! Like a princess from a fairytale!”

“Aren't you energetic? You look very cute yourself. Just make sure to not bump into someone while running around.”

“Will do!”

“...here.”

Sebastian and Ciel turned around at the same time with horror.

He had to jinx it, hadn't he?

Geeze, I wonder who Lizzy was talking to 🤔

I planned to put more plot inside but decided to cut the chapter I had planned (this already has 1,5K words, and I don't want to rush through it

Until next time!

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icycoldninja · 6 days

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Terror (Raiden x Reader angst)

Tw: Death, blood, violence, and dark themes. If you are not comfortable with these themes, DNI!

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Heart pounding, you dashed into an alleyway, breath shaky and mind swirling with fear. Just 2 hours ago, you and Raiden had been on a mission, slicing open cyborgs with ease--until someone shot Raiden in the shoulder. It was superficial damage in terms of how easily it could be healed, but it hurt. That was the problem. In seconds, Jack the Ripper had emerged and immediately started massacring everyone in the vicinity, and once he was done with them, he turned his attention to you.

Red eye glowing with an insatiable lust for blood, he stalked towards you, his unhinged laughter echoing in your ears and filling your mind with clouds of terror.

You loved Raiden and would have never run from him, but this thing was not Raiden, at least, not anymore. Before you could even think, your body acted on impulse. You took off, zipping like a lightning bolt through the streets, too afraid to even look back. Behind you, you could hear the loud thumping of metal hitting the streets as Jack the Ripper chased after you, laughing like a maniac.

"Doll, where ya going? Don't you wanna stay and play?" You instantly became aware of something whirring behind you, turned, and saw the fully charged HF blade about to be thrown at you by powerful cyborg arms. You ducked, dropping to the ground and evading the sword, but losing your balance in the process.

That single moment of weakness was all Jack needed to catch up and pin you to the ground, his strong metal legs caging you to the pavement, preventing any movement from the shoulders down. Jack let out a long, horrifying laugh before taking your face firmly in his clawed hands with none of the gentleness Raiden usually exercised.

"God, you're beautiful. So much prettier when you're not running away." More insane laughter. He bent down and licked a long stripe up your cheek, still gripping your jaw firmly while his sharp claws dug into your flesh like little needles, making rivulets of blood trickle down your face and pool into his hand, which only served to delight him further.

"So beautiful..." He roughly tugged you forwards, red eye searching yours with a type of hunger you were unable to identify. You struggled, trying to escape form his impossibly firm grip, but it was impossible.

"Let go of me!" You yelled, even though you knew it was hopeless. Raiden chuckled, yanking you forwards and smashing his metal lips against yours. The kiss was cold and devoid of the warmth and love you were used to. Whimpering softly, you managed to pull away with some difficulty.

"What's wrong, doll?" He sneered, insanity in his eyes. "Don't you love it when I kiss you? Don't you love me?" You trembled, body quivering from head to toe as you tried to summon up the courage to answer.

"I love Raiden," You finally admitted. "Not you."

Raiden growled in response, looking angrier and more disappointed than you'd ever seen him.

"So that's how it is, eh? No one cares about Jack--everybody's after Raiden!" An expression of pure anger on his face, the psychopath got to his feet, raised the HF blade, and rammed it right into his target: your heart.

A stabbing pain shot through your chest, and before you could even register what was happening, the world suddenly went fuzzy and faded to black, with the last thing you ever heard being Jack's maniacal laughter, echoing in your ears like a nightmarish song.

#Raiden #raiden x reader #Jack raiden #Mgr #Mgr raiden #Jack the ripper raiden #Angst #Fanfic #Angst fanfic #mgs #Tw: death #Tw: blood #Tw: violence #Tw: dark themes #Metal gear solid rising raiden #Metal gear solid x reader #Angst with death #Raiden x reader mgr

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honeyynymphh · 1 year

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| a little nightmarish, a little maudlin (good golly go get this kid some laudanum!) |

(Dracopia) Cardinal Copia x FemReader rating: T (will be E) word count: 3k chapter: 1 of 2 warnings: none (for now)

A storm hits while on your way home from a party and your coach breaks down. Surely the church you passed by will offer shelter until you can safely return home?

read on A03

16th September 1893 London

The coach rocked across the muddy roads, sending you falling across the seat. You couldn’t believe how fast the weather had turned. It was only a mere hour ago you were outside on the terrace of Lady Grainger’s estate enjoying that first chill of an autumnal breeze as you tried to escape a rather amorous suitor. While the soiree had ended on high spirits, you were desperate to return home to your bed. However, it looked as if your journey were to be an uncomfortable one. Perhaps it would have been wiser to have listened to your older sister and returned early with her and your brother-in-law. But it had been weeks since you’d been out of the house, let alone to a party! And how long had it been since you had heard music? And drunk something that wasn't watered-down sherry? And going to the modiste had been an absolute dream—even if it meant listening to your sister complain about your choice of fabric. The past few months had so been full of fear and unease with all those disappearances. It had left the local law enforcement utterly bamboozled and every person on the street had been eyed with suspicion. And you had been left to wallow in absolute boredom.

It had suddenly all come to a stop only last month. Weeks had passed and there had been no further disappearances or bodies found in dark alleyways. The town had feared that another madman was on the loose, another Jack the Ripper stalking the streets and taking women with ease every few days. It had been difficult to discover any details, your sister having had all the newspapers immediately confiscated and instructing the butler to cut out anything that would potentially cause distress. All you had had were the rumours that flew around at the tea shop and the gossiping old biddies that frequented the dry and tedious charity teas. And then you hadn't even had that! Your sister and brother-in-law insisting that you stay inside the house when the last few girls that had disappeared had been from your own social circle. After week after tedious week of being sequestered away with your unruly nieces and nephews even the weak tea and repetitive questions of why you were not yet betrothed sounded downright delightful— how you had longed for even the driest of charity luncheons. Your sister meant well but being locked away and only allowed outside with your sister's mother-in-law was definitely the worst sort of torture imaginable.

The wheels squelch as they rock through the thick mud and you glance out the carriage window to see the heavy clouds in the sky as fat droplets of rain burst against the glass pane. Lady Grainger had announced a not-so-small soiree to celebrate the end of terror. Nobody had gone missing for the past two months and everyone had declared the nightmare officially over. You thought it strange that it had suddenly ceased but you were not going to question it. After reading nearly every single book in the library at least three times and having tried (and spectacularly failed) to master the pianoforte you were desperate for any sort of entertainment. The whole point of this trip to visit your sister was so that you could find a suitable match, and instead of being here for the Season you’d been here nearly six months.

You definitely had too much ratafia this evening and the swaying of the coach was not helping matters. While Lady Grainger was a bit overbearing, she threw a good party. Her large home was towards the outskirts of town and it was nearly an hour's ride but her beautiful gardens and decadent ballroom were more than worth the long journey.

A large slash of lightning blares across the sky and you feel the wheels of the coach rock as the rain thunders against the roof. You fling your hands out, satin-covered fingers fumbling at the leather seat as you try to steady yourself. The rain continued to pelt against the coach and you could feel the way the wheels were sliding through what was now surely thick mud. It was so easy to picture that knowing look on your sister's face when you eventually arrived home. Despite losing nearly every round of faro—your reticle was feeling much lighter than it had at the beginning of the evening—the party had been immensely enjoyable. Even listening to Mrs Henderson prattle on about her son Henry while she was wearing one of her horribly garish turbans had been pure heaven after being shut in for so long. Admittedly, the novelty had worn off rather quickly. The ratafia had definitely helped on that account.

It seemed now that you had enjoyed too much freedom and Mother Nature was seeking to dampen your spirits quite literally. The coach came to a stop before you heard the sound of the driver jumping down and then a knock on the coach's door before it opened. The sound of the wind wiping outside assaulted your ears and you shivered from the biting cold.

“‘Scuse me, Miss, but we are gonna have to go via the long way ‘round.” He looks at you apologetically as the rain tries to slink into the coach as if it were seeking shelter from the storm. “There's some big fallen branches on the path, I can’t be getting the ‘orses past ‘em.”

You sigh. Of course this would happen. With a nod, you gesture for the driver to continue and sit back against the leather squabs. All you want is your bed and some honey tea. While tonight had been wonderful, you also had to spend tomorrow afternoon attending a luncheon with Mrs Henderson and you just knew you were in for more tales about how marvellous her Henry is. If you had to listen to another word about that foppish idiot you were going to stick your embroidery needle in that woman’s eye. Which was a terrible thought, but Henry was incredibly dull and always stood on your feet during dances. Your sister had been incredibly angry when you had fabricated names on your dance card to avoid him this evening.

A loud crack of thunder startles you as the coach shakes across the path. It felt unnaturally freezing now and you pull your cloak around you tighter. Another crack bursts against the sky and you feel the ground shake before the coach abruptly stops, sending you flying across the seats and onto the floor.

The door to the coach flew open, the sound of the storm outside like a maddened animal. “Miss! Are you all right?”

Sitting up you rub your forehead. It smarts something fierce and when you take your hand away you can see the ivory fabric is spotted with blood.

Drat. These were your very best gloves.

“Miss?” the driver repeats, trying to wrangle his body away from the storm outside.

“Yes, I think so.” You try to sit up, your head stinging and knees aching from the harsh impact. “I think I just bumped my head but I will be all right.” You glance past the driver to look at the pelting rain and the trees straining in the gale. “What happened?”

“The horses were frightened." The driver looks stricken, his pale face drawn and pinched as he tried to wipe the damp strands of hair out of his face. "They bolted and I hit the side of the road. The coach is busted, Miss.”

Maybe this was your punishment for your unkind thoughts about Mr Henderson and his old hen of a mother.

You can feel the panic well in your chest. “What are we going to do?" you ask. "My sister will worry greatly if I do not return home.”

The poor man scrunches up his face as he tries to speak over the howling winds. “We passed a church. I think I saw they ‘ad a light on, Miss.”

A church? Out here? “Are you certain?”

“Yes, Miss.”

You sit there a moment, staring at the storm as it raged outside. What were you to do? The coach creaked under the gale, the wood groaning under you. You suck in a resigned breath.

"If you are sure, let us go," you say, making to step out.

"I can go 'ave a look first if you want, Miss?" the driver offers, blocking you from exiting the coach.

You shake your head firmly, you were not being left alone out here. What if he never came back?

Seeing you were not to be swayed, the driver takes your hand and helps you out of the broken coach. The rain splatters against your cloak and batters your hair, plastering it to your face in a matter of seconds.

“This way!” The driver shouts, pulling you by the hand as you try to run along the ruined road.

Your feet squelched and skidded, your slippers filling with mud and clinging uncomfortably to your stockinged feet as you hurried. It was hard to see far into the distance but you could make out the shape of a looming building and candlelight that flickered in the high windows.

As you approach, you realise that the driver had been wrong. It was no small parish church but a large cathedral. Gothic spires reached for the angry heavens above as the rain lashed against the building. Candlelight was indeed flickering from many of the arch windows and you feel the hope bubble in your chest at the sight, though you couldn’t help but be puzzled. You had never heard of a parish out here, it seemed to be in the middle of nowhere on this abandoned road. As you both hurry through a small gatehouse and down a cobbled path, your hands clutching the sodden skirts of your dress, you see the large double doors and let out a sigh of relief as you huddle under the portico.

The driver’s loud knocks on the door were lost to the wind as you anxiously waited. Your feet were frozen and soggy, and your head ached. How you wanted to simply be in bed.

Finally, the door creaks open and a nun's face peers out.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“Please forgive the intrusion at such an hour,” you begin, “but my coach has broken down and I am unable to return home. Is it possible for me and my driver to stop here until morning?”

The woman looks from the driver and back to you, her eyes flicking to your forehead before a smile stretches across her face.

“Of course,” she said and swings the door open.

You follow her inside, the driver close behind you. There are few candles lit as you enter the large foyer, making it hard to discern much in the low candlelight. Another nun appears as if out of the shadows and gently leads the driver down another hallway.

There is only the sound of your squelching feet and the nun's even footsteps along the flagstones as you walk. The wind whistles across the stone and you shiver, a draft pulling at your sodden cloak and dress.

“I am Sister Agnetha," says the nun as you take a turn down a hallway. "Do forgive the cold."

You tell her your name, again thanking her for the hospitality but she waves it off.

“Think nothing of it, my child,” she says. “It is not often we have visitors. The Bish—Cardinal—has been away to the homeland and I am afraid things are a little…bloodless around here without his direction.”

You shiver again. Wondering if this place was a convent of some sort. You were certain nobody had mentioned this place before. And it would certainly be something Lady Grainger would have an opinion on—she had an opinion on everything. Especially a place as run down as this with its drafty hallways and lack of decadent rugs.

“Cardinal?” you question. While you didn’t exactly pay that much attention during Sunday service you at least knew there were no Cardinals in the church.

The nun turns her beaming face to you, her eyes too bright in the low light. “A recent promotion, we are all very proud. He has only just returned.”

You simply nod, what did it matter? Besides, your eyes are too busy trying to take in all the details and trying to ignore the squelch of your shoes as you leave a path of mud. The dark hallways are adorned with intricately woven tapestries and paintings though you cannot distinguish anything clearly.

The nun finally stops before an ornately carved door and opens it. There is another nun inside, a large poker in one hand as she tries to coax flames to life inside the grate of a large fireplace. The room is sparse save for a sturdy wooden bed, a small armchair and a set of drawers shoved in a corner. But while it may be sparse it was grand, the bed was carved with flowers and fruits and the small armchair and set of drawers looked like something out of the royal palace. It seemed so strange that a rundown abbey would be furnished in such a way. The rectory back home had been full of simple furnishings and Father Daniels had proclaimed that a man needed no decadent furniture to be satisfied.

On the farthest wall, three large arch windows have their heavy drapes pulled back and you can see the trees outside bending in the wind as they are pelted by the heavy rain. Water drops down your back and your brand new dress clings to your skin as you stand there dripping in the middle of the room.

“Sister Amelia will find you some clean clothes." Sister Agnetha gestures to the nun attending the fireplace. “And something to warm you up.”

“Thank you," you say as Sister Amelia leaves with a furtive glance at you. "This place is so beautiful, even in the dark." Your eyes roam over the stained glass detailing on the large windows. “It must be so wonderful in the sunlight.”

“I suppose it must.”

What a strange thing to say.

“Thank you again for your hospitality." You watch as the nun draws the drapes shut, though there must have been cracks in the glass for they flutter slightly. "I do hope I can thank the Cardinal in the morning.”

“He is not particularly fond of mornings.”

"Neither am I." You try to laugh but the nun ignores you when Sister Amelia returns, a bundle of clothes under one arm and a teacup of something steaming in the other. You take it gratefully, the porcelain is chipped but warm and you hold it in your frozen gloved fingers. "Thank you."

They leave you then, the door creaking behind them and closing with a loud click. The light from the fire is enough to illuminate the room and you can see the Sister has left you a towel along with clean clothes. Placing the teacup down, you strip off your soaked clothing, ruined gloves and undergarments before placing them on the armchair by the fire.

You wring out your hair as best as you can, pins and pieces of ribbon falling to the floor as you unpick your hair in an attempt to dry it. It was going to be a tangled mess no matter what you did and you give up. Picking up the nightgown you stare at it. It was very old-fashioned but the fabric was soft, though it was not nearly warm enough to block out the cold seeping through the stone. How did they stand it here? It was only autumn and yet it was so horribly cold in this building. It felt like the middle of Winter. Sinking down onto the hearth you rub your hands in front of the fire. What an ordeal this had been.

On your knees, you whisper a quick prayer before grabbing the teacup and draining it. It was bitter though there were hints of honey and what had to have been whiskey. You didn't particularly care what it was as it was hot and it raced through your veins in an instant. Once your fingers and toes had warmed by the flame, and your head no longer aching, you race to the bed and duck under the covers. The bed creaks and you try to bury yourself in away from the draft. It smells like incense and ink and you twist from side to side to try and get comfortable.

It must be early morning when you’re in that hazy place between sleep and consciousness. Everything is a haze and you’re dimly aware of the bed you lie in. There is something warm and wet against your forehead and you brush it away, your hand coming into contact with something cool and firm. That jolts you awake and you hastily sit up, blinking in the darkness. The fire has burned low, only the dim glow of embers in the grate as your one source of light. You stifle a gasp as you watch several rats scurry along the floor and through a small gap in the stonework.

You shudder. This abbey didn't feel like a place of God at all. And while not the most devout, you clasp your hands together and scrunch your eyes tight.

"Dear Heavenly Father, please forgive me for my transgressions and lack of faith. Please guide me now and help me to see the light. Amen."

The silence sucks at your words and you bite your lip, keeping your hands clasped and eyes shut as the back of your neck prickles. Quickly you snap your eyes open, twisting your head around the room yet seeing nothing. You realise your heart is racing and you take a deep breath, easing yourself back into the bed and under the blankets.

As you lie there, staring up into the high ceiling, you cannot shake the feeling that someone is watching you. NEXT CHAPTER

------------------------ I am aware this is super trope heavy but I love gothic literature. I mostly wrote this for myself (even though now that this part is published I shall never gaze upon it again).

The second part shall be added soon, sorry there is no Copia in this part!

#sorry this is kind of boring lmao #this is set in victorian era btw #because i can #fanfic #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia x reader #dracopia x reader #fic: a little nightmarish #vampire au #historical au #my-writing

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destinygoldenstar · 2 years

Text

My thoughts on Total Drama Next Generation cast so far

I said this before, I don’t like making judgements on characters until I’ve seen a full episode. So I don’t want to say I love or hate anybody just yet.

I also said that these looked like children of past cast members because of similar design features, and I stand by that still.

For clarification:

-Millie is the Lesharold kid, because of Leshawna’s body type, skin tone, and hair, and she has Harold’s hair fringe

-Ripper is the Nowen kid. EVERYONE has said this. And Ripper? JACK THE RIPPER, HELLO?

-Axel is the Duncney kid. HEAR ME OUT. She has Courtney’s skin tone. She has Duncan’s piercings. Duncan’s eye shape but Courtney’s eye color. She has a black top like Duncan did, and she has a white undershirt like Courtney did. The body shape is Courtney’s!

-Chase is the MikexZoey kid. That may be a stretch, but to be, he has Mike’s face and skin tone, Mike influenced hair (even if it’s not exact), and he’s wearing red like Zoey did. How he’s more buff than Mike...? Idk, maybe that’s from his mom’s side.

-Caleb is the StephaniexRyan kid. I don’t think I need to explain this one. But good lord, if he’s actually their kid, then that’s a SERIOUS abusive household backstory he has going on. Maybe Caleb’s considered ‘the hot one’ by everyone as a way to cope with this, even if deep down, he’s a bisexual man. If you’ve seen the other poster I can’t show for internet reasons, I think you know what I’m talking about.

-Nichelle is the GwenxCameron kid. I DO NOT like the ship, but I can’t ignore this. Cameron’s skin tone, Gwen’s eyes. How her hair is blonde...? Idk, Gwen’s hair is dyed, so she might have been born blonde.

-Julia is the SamxDakota kid. Idk, she just gives that vibe to me. I like the ripped jeans as well, I think that’s the best way I can explain it. Plus it’s cute to me.

-Bowie is the LeonardxTammy kid. Leonard’s skin. Leonard’s head. Tammy’s hair.

-Wayne is the Gidgette kid. I WANTED to say that Wayne and Raj are brothers, BUT then Wayne wouldn’t be a Gidgette kid because Raj has NOTHING resembling Geoff or Bridgette.

-Raj, but he DOES have a GeoffxBrody vibe. That’s WIERD to think about anyway. But hey, maybe they share the same dad in Geoff and they’re a happy surfer trio

Bridgette: “This is my husband Geoff and his husband Brody”

-Emma, a LindsayxBeth kid?? I WANT to say Lindsay and Tyler, but no, there’s nothing Tyler about her. She has Beth’s body type and side, and I don’t think I need to explain the blonde hair and blue eyes. I WOULD say Carrie and Devin because of the chin, but Carrie doesn’t have blue eyes, and neither does Devin.

-MK. THIS is the girl I have my eyes on. I am not the biggest Ezekiel fan, BUT with that said, she IS ‘Reverse Ezekiel’. You cannot convince me otherwise. She has the beanie and sweater, giving a homeschool vibe, just like Zeke did. I DO NOT think she’s Ezekiel’s ‘kid’, but she could be related to him. In that sense, I think they could do with her what they didn’t do with Zeke.

In that sense, MK’s a finalist. She’s lasting to the very end.

The others, I don’t know yet. Damien MIGHT be a Lightning kid, but I don’t know for sure. (And no AleHeather kid? Me sad :( )

Now for my thoughts on the designs and names:

I love the designs. I know they’re not as out there as Paketiew, but I love them for that. These look like teenagers that could exist in the real world. These look like relatable characters.

And tbh, the reason I never included the other gens in my tier lists was because I never had much to say about them. I don’t count Ridonculous Race since that’s a spin off, BUT I do like that cast too, for the most part.

The problem ISN’T ‘new gen casts and ditching the old cast is bad’. Danganronpa has 3 main games, ALL with new casts, and they’re ALL good in their own ways. It’s that the new casts are just not interesting characters compared to the first gen. They could have been!

The Revenge cast is fine, but they’re horribly underutilized, especially with giving them only 13 episodes and jumping into All Stars.

And Paketiew... well, to be nice about it, I HATE the Paketiew cast. Except maybe Jasmine & Shawn. But that’s it.

So, with 2 new seasons for this cast, this COULD be a redemption, to make this cast as loveable as the OGs. They’ll have the screen time to achieve that.

The names though? I’m... mixed on that.

I like some of the names. Priya, Axel, Chase, Zee, Caleb, Nichelle, Julia, I LOVE those. Those are great.

But unless Nowen’s related, Ripper just... does NOT give a Ripper vibe to me. That might be a me issue. He could end up being my favorite character.

Scary Girl...

This MIGHT be a plot twist later on what her real name is, or it could be a gag, BUT, if it’s NOT, then what the heck is the point? Give her a real name! Until we find out, I’m calling her Quinn!

We have another Emma. Come on, why not Emily? That’s similar, but we don’t have an Emily yet. Maybe she has a nickname like Em? That’d work.

And then Bowie’s just a me problem. That doesn’t slip off the tongue well for me.

And for who I think the finalists are?

Like I said, MK. And...?

IDK, ROTI had two boys, so maybe this has two girls to balance things out?

In that sense, MAYBE Axel. She gives quite a but of main character vibes for me. But I’m not counting on it. All I know is that she’s probably, definitely, merging.

I feel like Millie, Ripper, Quinn, & Caleb are also merging. I would put my money on Caleb, Axel, and MK being my faves. But again, I’m NOT counting on it yet. I could end up hating them in the show.

Oh, and one last thing, the gay rep that I’m seeing? I’m CONCERNED. SERIOUSLY CONCERNED.

It looks to be Caleb and Bowie from the poster, and if the Caleb character arc I’m thinking of is real, then MAYBE it’ll work and they bring the best in each other. But I’m not getting good vibes from Bowie, and it looks like he’s gonna be a gay joke.

Please don’t be toxic. Please don’t be toxic. Please don’t be toxic.

So yeah, that’s all I have to say so far.

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tailoredshirt · 6 months

Note

K I know this is an unfair question, but what is your favorite criminal minds episode?

Tessa! This totally is an unfair question! Mostly because I can't remember shit! lol

I'm gonna remember like 20 favorite eps after replying to this btw.

A few I really like and have rewatched the most:

Revelations (Reid kidnapped by James Van Der Beek)

Penelope (Garcia shot/dying and Morgan at her bedside, then JJ making that badass shot at the end)

Entropy (Reid and Aubrey Plaza the hitwoman on their dinner date)

Minimal Loss (Luke Perry cult leader ep)

The S2 finale with Keith Carradine as the serial killer who drinks a milkshake in that diner with Gideon.

I'm not a huge fan of '100', when Foyet kills Haley, but I like the ep that introduces him.

Also I am admittedly a fan of JJ/Will, so I like Jones (first Will ep, with the Jack the Ripper copycat in New Orleans) and 'Hit' and 'Run' (two-part ep where the bank robbers kidnap Will).

But I think one of the best CM eps, that hits me every time, is 'Ride the Lightning' from season 1, where Gideon talks to the woman about the be executed for helping her serial killer husband, and whether she really did it.

#ty for this question! what is your favorite?#ladytessa74 #replies #criminal minds

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tvboi622 · 24 days

Text

Raiden, aka Jack The Ripper, aka Mr Lightning Bolt, aka...

#art #metal gear solid #fanart #raiden

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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year

Text

Rage Rising - Chapter 1 - A Grease Fic

Kenickie’s been antagonising Sandy for a while, but when something goes wrong in his personal life, it all comes to head with Danny.

Words: 3244

Also on AO3

The group sat around the fire, the embers flickering up away in the early spring breeze. Half hearted laughter blew away along with it as Sonny and Doody made an attempt at humour. Danny tried to make his reaction genuine, yet struggled, as their humour hadn’t evolved past elementary school and was starting to wear down his patience.

He tightened his arm around Sandy and smiled. The fire glowed on her skin, made the light blazing in her eyes intensify as her body shivered slightly in the cold. An instinct, a hidden one from years before when his Dad tried to teach him the ways of women, told him to take off his own jacket and place it around her, making her grin when he did.

She seemed more comfortable after a few months of being at Rydell, now the drama of her first getting here, the dance and the drive-in had settled he could see she was getting close with the group. Well, apart from Kenickie.

He knew why. The arrival of Sandy had changed everything they had and had been building up. Years of trust gone down the drain because of some unspoken rule that they couldn’t be friends while Danny was with her.

They weren’t just friends, though. He remembered the nights spent by the racetrack watching the drivers train. The lights shone on his face the same it was on Sandy’s now, but he gave him butterflies as they kissed in silhouettes, she radiated comfort as he tried to bury the past.

A car rumbled along the dirt track, they weren't too far from the town but far enough out that the lights in houses were distant and the road petered out about half a mile away.

Headlights lit up the trees, turned them from black to vibrant green before the car turned and stopped beside Danny's and Rizzo's.

Danny knew that fresh paintwork, the shabby bumper and tired flat top roof. It was Grease Lightning. So, it was Kenickie.

He hadn't seen him much lately, all his time had gone into the car. Danny had helped of course, they were all helping, but it was always with the others. They didn't seem to be alone anymore. Every time Danny suggested anything, fixing the car, going to Frosty's or just hanging out, Kenickie'd shrug it off.

Suddenly he could handle the car alone, wasn't hungry, like you needed to be hungry to go to Frosty's, or he'd just outright make some snide comment about Sandy needing him.

He thought he wasn't being obvious with how little he liked Sandy but he definitely was. His face had become scarce at group hangouts like this, ones where Sandy came. Even Rizzo was being more civil than him, and she could be a real bitch sometimes.

Kenickie lit a cigarette with his overdramatic lighter and slammed the door behind him. He scanned the group, his eyes landing on Danny before switching to Sandy, then back again. His hand lingered in his pocket as he put his lighter back, tension sprung tight in his jaw.

Sandy, being her usual naive self, waved at him. Her face dropped when he scowled. He dropped himself near Rizzo. The gang stopped in their antics, stared at him before he raised his hands and pulled out his cigarette.

"What?" He said.

"Nothing," Rizzo said, then added under her breath. "You're just the Jack Ripper of the mood that's all."

Kenickie must not have been fully paying attention, as he just scowled, again. He usually would spit something back at her, that was their strange dynamic when it came to flirting, yet, when he saw Rizzo's face, he wondered if they were fighting again.

She just rolled her eyes and turned to Sandy. Danny wouldn’t say they were friends, Rizzo would talk enough shit behind her back to make that known, but it had decreased of late. She was being civil a lot more, not directly antagonising her like she did at the start. Maybe Frenchie had talked to her, she was the only one who really seemed to be friends with everyone lately.

“So-” Rizzo said with one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen, like he said, they weren’t friends, “Frenchie tells me that you two went on some kind of date?”

As she said that, she glanced at Kenickie. Danny didn’t even know what they were fighting about now, he couldn’t keep up with them before Sandy and certainly couldn’t now. From what he knew, Nick was trying to be supportive about Rizzo being pregnant, so why was she annoyed?

"Oh, yeah, we took a trip over spring break to a racetrack in-" Sandy pondered for a second.

Danny filled in the blank, "Sonoma, near San Francisco."

He moved his gaze away from Kenickie deliberately. That place was special to them. When Nickie first got his licence, because of course he got it first, he always drove when they 'borrowed' people's cars, they took a long weekend away to San Francisco. The school would've raged if that was their first time skipping school, but it wasn't, so no real fuss was put up for them.

It wasn't glamorous. As two poor sixteen year olds, they couldn't afford the ritz, or even a hotel. They slept in the car, under the stars and were thankful for the California weather.

"Sonoma?" Kenickie said, almost a whisper.

"Yeah, it was great, although I don't know much about racing," Sandy exclaimed.

She must have been oblivious to the shadows running across Kenickie’s face, but Danny wasn't. He saw him go through the stages of grief in a single moment before darting up and breaking the scene.

With his locked on the fire, he said with words seething rage, "Danny, can I speak with you for a second."

He knew what this would be. It had been building for a while. Since Sandy came into the picture they just hadn't been the same, and despite them both trying to keep it under wraps, some things just couldn't stay unspoken for long.

~~~~

Kenickie tugged Danny toward the wooded area away from the light of the fire, not too far so they’d be in complete darkness, but far enough away that they wouldn’t be heard. And he needed to make sure they weren’t heard.

After they’d gotten far enough away, Kenickie could finally let go of everything that had been driving him crazy for the last few weeks, no months. He could barely speak. Anger was flooding his system, more than he thought he could feel for someone so close to him. But under that, beneath the layers of viscous red was something much worse, something he was almost afraid to feel because it would mean so much more than just a girl stealing his friend. It was heartbreak.

“Sonoma?!” Was all he could get out at first. “You took her to Sonoma?”

“What, like it’s illegal?” Danny spat back

The look on his face told Kenickie he didn’t mean it. But he didn’t care.

“It was a date, I wanted to take her somewhere special, somewhere where we wouldn’t get disturbed by a certain group of teenagers,”

Maybe he was a little right about that? That night at the diner may have been a little disruptive, but maybe he wanted it to be? Danny being with Sandy was the whole reason he was so angry lately. He wanted nothing less than to ruin every moment they had, maybe then she'd leave him alone.

"Fine, but Sonoma? That place is almost a seven hour drive away, you couldn't think of somewhere closer?"

"Didn't you hear me? I wanted somewhere far away."

"San Francisco, then?" He said. "Why Sonoma?"

He stepped closer, close enough that he could see the distant flames flicker in Danny's eyes. Clenching his hands at his sides, he fought the urges to pull the lapels of his jacket, the one they spent hours trying to stitch with their insignia. He knew that part of him he was afraid of, the part being denied because of Sandy, would take it too far.

"You know what that place means to me, to us,"

As he stabbed his chest with his finger, he thought back to that weekend. Stolen car, beers bought off a fake ID, watching races without a ticket. The stars glittered so brightly as they talked about girls. In a moment of impulse, they said some bullshit about practicing kissing for girls and their lips met. Cars raced past, the wind picked up and something undoubtedly began. Something Danny couldn't just deny now he had a new girlfriend.

"I know, okay?" Danny said.

Honesty was wrought all over his face. It didn't stop everything else Kenickie wanted to say, but hesitation began to spring.

"I know we can't do this-" he gestured between them. "But just, don't pretend that we've never been more than friends."

He glanced around at the floor, "Sandy may be a cover for something, but don't make me feel like I made it all up. I get it, sometimes I wonder if me and Rizzo are real, I do feel things for her, or if it's all a cover up-"

"Sandy’s not a cover up." Danny said, confused. "I never said she was a cover up."

Kenickie ran a hand through his hair. By the way Danny's face went from reminiscing about to the past to noticing the cold hard present, he'd fucked up with that last comment. He pushed him away. Kenickie’s anger at each him finally matched.

"But that's just what you want, isn't Nickie?"

Was he a wimp if that nickname made it hurt more? Only Danny ever called him anything other than Kenickie.

"And you're fed up because you're not getting what you want, like you always do."

Sentimentality was gone. He thought of the letter in his pocket. That's why he actually came here, not to shout at Danny, but to finally get a chance to talk to him alone. Now they were here, rage rising, full of anger.

"Get what I want?" Kenickie snapped. "When have I ever got what I wanted? My mom walking out on me, is that what I wanted? Having a dad that doesn't give a shit, is that what I wanted?"

"My dad's in prison, you're not the only one who's had a hard life, alright?"

Both of them were heaving now. His hands were shaking, partially from anger, partially from hurt. They'd never fought like this.

"And why are you going on to me about not being there? You're the one avoiding me at all costs!"

He looked away. Sure, that was true, but he had his reasons. Danny didn’t have to say it in a way that made him question everything. Not that he would tell him that, he couldn't trust him anymore, not after everything that had happened.

"Why would I want to spend time with you when all you do is talk about her?" He bared his teeth at him. "Oh, Sandy’s parents invited me for tea, they really liked me, running track's not so bad maybe Sandy’s onto something."

He pulled away, running his hand through his hair again, one of his nervous ticks. Whoever said talking about emotions must've never actually done it. All he was feeling was shaky, guilt flooding his system but satisfaction at seeing Danny's face before he came up with something to say.

"You're changing too much. I don't want to be around you because you're boring, becoming like everyone else. Clubs, parents, the Danny I remember was there for me when I needed him, answered the phone or rang me back because he knew what it meant."

"Well maybe I don't want to hold your hand like some baby anymore!"

Thwack! Danny recoiled from the punch and stumbled back a few paces. Blood trickled from his nose. He swiped it with his finger as he looked up at Kenickie.

More guilt flooded his system, almost making him forget why he did it. Even during their worst fights, it never got to that point. It had always been them. Their bond was strong and consistent, sometimes the only consistent things in each other’s lives. But now that was gone, Kenickie felt he was spiralling. The only thing keeping him tethered was the car and Rizzo being pregnant, even if it wasn’t his.

Then the anger came back and he remembered that was exactly why he did it. Danny had always been there, rain or shine, girl or no girl. If he rang him, a mess, in the night, he’d pick up or have a better excuse than ‘I was having dinner at Sandy’s’. If he knocked on his window, he’d let him in. Now the world had turned on its head and couldn’t make out which way was up.

“I’m not a damn baby Danny and you know it,” he spat. “You’ve always known it. If there was anyone who’s been through shit, it’s us, so don’t go saying that me needing you is me being a baby. You know I needed you and now you’re feeling guilty-”

He pointed at him and as he kept his gaze at where they'd kicked up dust from their scrapple, “Well, good, but don’t go blaming me just because you can’t handle that your changing is pushing everyone away.”

Tears sprung now. Everything was going to shit. Just when his life seemed to be going well, Sandy came into the picture. And, sure, he knew she wasn’t manipulating him and he knew that their friend group wasn’t breaking apart but it was so much nicer to have someone to blame. Because he’d gotten tired of blaming his dad, he knew he’d never change, and couldn’t blame a mum that wasn’t around. Blaming Danny and Sandy was the closest he had to getting something to change, even if it hurt deep down.

The tears blobbed down his face now. He tried to rub them away but the dam was open, he couldn’t stop it now. Reaching into his pocket, he thought he might as well show him the letter. They’d come this far, why not tell him what he’d intended to in the first place.

“You know, I actually had a reason for talking to you, something serious.” He tugged the crumpled letter out of his pocket and flashed it at Danny.

“My mom wrote, Dad got to the letter before I did, he was drunk out of his mind by the time I got home from working on the car and you know what he gets like when he’s drunk,” he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. “And I called you because you get it, except now you don’t.

“You don’t get it, you call me a baby for wanting some support in my shitty life but instead you’re with that bitch-”

“Hey!”

“You’re with her and you don’t care what else happens as long as everything’s fine on your own little planet, well for the rest of us, maybe it ain’t!”

He couldn’t take this anymore. His feet carried him away, out of the wooded area and back toward the fire. He didn’t feel like staying, though.

“Kenickie, wait!” Danny called after him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

He turned around, fully aware that everyone was watching them but suddenly not caring, “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Maybe you should show it by thinking of something else but you and your girlfriend, Rizzo’s pregnant, Frenchie left the school and came back, and I-”

He held his tongue about the letter. Mentioning his mum was something he rarely did to the others. They thought he was aloof and blasé about it, not that he’d cried when he’d found the envelope opened by his dad on the kitchen table just because that tiny little connection he still had with his mum, wherever she was, may finally be broken.

He stood in close, tapping his chest, “-I needed you, and you weren’t there, so don’t bother next time, okay? I don’t need you, not anymore.”

He knew that was an exaggeration. It was a good way to end an argument but what was he going to do on Monday, or in the shop with the car. He needed him and he knew it but he couldn’t let him know that, at least not yet.

~~~~

“Kenickie,” Danny called after him as he climbed into his car. “Nickie, wait, please!”

The group was speechless as the car pulled away, its headlights illuminating them for a moment before the tires screeched on the dirt path. They just left to watch Danny. He stood like some lost kid waiting for his mother to come back. He left his gaze on where the infamous ‘Grease Lightning’ had been parked.

Sandy broke the silence, “Maybe I should talk to him, it looks like what Kenickie really said really hurt him.”

Rizzo placed her hand on her arm and gave her a look she evidently didn’t understand.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

“Why? They've been fighting since I got here, they don't seem like good friends from what I've seen,”

It was in times like this that it really showed that Sandy was the new girl. Most of them had known each other their whole lives, or at least more than a year. Frenchie had moved here in her freshman year, Rizzo wasn't proud of how she’d treated her at first, but as their group slowly formed, everyone eventually got along. Until now, of course.

Rizzo turned to face her fully, "Look, Sandy," she started. "Danny and Kenickie have been friends for as long as any of us can remember, and they've been all each other has had for almost as long."

"Has Danny told you about his dad?"

She knew that information was sensitive. Usually she didn't care about keeping secrets but even she knew there were some things you didn't spout carelessly.

"Yeah, he's in prison, isn't he?"

Rizzo nodded, "When he got sent down, Danny went straight to Kenickie’s house, still in his suit, and practically dragged him out the house."

Sandy took the information in with wide eyes.

"And Kenickie-" she wasn't sure whether to tell her, but Sandy didn't seem the type to heartlessly tell people's tragedies. "Well, don't tell him I said this, but his mom walked out, dad didn't take it well, whenever things get a little much, including the day his mom walked out, Kenickie could always rely on Danny."

"You being here has disrupted that, and I know you probably didn't mean it, it's just that Danny's never been with a girl as seriously as you have, so there's less space for Kenickie in his life," she said, then added. "At least that's what Kenickie thinks, anyway."

Sandy didn't respond for a little while. There was a look on her face was confused Rizzo. After trying to decipher it, she realised it was her being pensive.

"Maybe someone should talk to him, then," she said, as if it was that simple.

But as Rizzo watched Danny trail about without purpose, she wondered if it actually was. They were all so tied up in their own complicated worlds, preconceived ideas and places in their group made fixing things seem impossible. Maybe someone new was exactly what they'd needed after all?

Not that she’d admit that to Sandy.

I've had some ideas for grease for a while and @caveiratimida encouraged me to write this! My general ideas are that Danny's dad is in prison for GBH, Kenickie’s mum walked out on him (with his sister that he doesn’t tell anyone about). Also, yes, they do have thing, or did before Sandy.

Thanks for reading!

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jackthelightningripper · 8 months

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Spider Man 2018 Review

youtube

Ever since 2018, I've really grown to enjoy Spider Man more than I did before then. This game is one of the biggest contributors to that. Let's check it out!

My St Jude Play Live Campaign:

My Twitter: https://twitter.com/RipperLightning

Intro Theme by The Plant Commander: https://twitter.com/Plant_Commander

Avatar Images by Autumn Kouhai: https://twitter.com/autumn_kouhai

Background by Jett Altair: https://twitter.com/JettAltair

Logo by Switch Branding: https://twitter.com/SwitchBrandin

#jack the lightning ripper #st jude #youtube #spider man #spider man ps4 #be greater #video game review #st jude play live #Youtube

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woodsfae · 2 years

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Babylon 5 S01E06: Mind War

First

ToC

Space chase!

Catherine must enjoy her job, because she’s a very wealthy woman from that quantium from the planet she previously surveyed. Or it’s a very convenient way to get her offscreen whenever the plot demands. edit: or, as it happened, a convenient way to get on ON screen when the plot demands! I am pleasantly surprised!

Michael Garibaldi don’t be a creep, also you’re not in love. My girl Talia is going to marry my girl Susan and you’re going to watch Daffy Duck and be chill.

WALTER KOENIG?! That’s Pavel Chekov! My guy! Mr Bester, fine. But he’s Chekov in my heart.

I’m ready for some serious dirt on this seriously dystopian Psi Corps. And ready to find out why this rogue telepath appears to also be using telekinesis!

Who watches the watchmen, indeed, Ivanova?

So Talia is a level 5 telepath, which burns out or kills 50% of telepaths who attempt the rank. (if I recall what she said to Sinclair correctly) The rogue telepath is level 10, as all instructors are. And these psi cops are level 12. How many telepaths do they burn through to get others trained adequately? And do they actually burn out, or are they being disposed of and the testing dangers are exaggerated to cover it up?

Hah, and Jason immediately comes to Talia after she’s passed her scan.

G’Kar is being weird to Catherine. Polite. Eloquent. He hasn’t put forward this much effort at being polite and agreeable to anyone for the entire show so far. His “no seriously, this is in good faith,” argument here reminds me very much of Garak from Deep Space 9.

Let me pass on to you the one thing I’ve learned about this place. No one here is exactly what he appears. Not Mollari, not Delenn, not Sinclair, and not me. My warning is sincere. Ignore it at your own peril.

Power boosting in the psi corps and it’s an arms race. And there’s experiments, and Jason was experimented on. That never goes well, historically speaking. I wonder if some inspiration for River in Firefly was taken from this episode.

So, telekinesis is actually a thing in this universe, but they’re insanely rare, and half of them are insane. And Jason got telekinesis as well as highly boosted telepathy from the experiments - the former of which was actually, secretly, the goal.

Walter Koenig is so delightfully terrifying in this!

I can’t imagine G’Kar is going to be so seemingly straightforward as to take send this heavily armed cruiser to attack Catherine.

Yeah, telekinetics controlled by the CIA sounds absolutely horrifying, and that’s basically what Jason is describing here. Also, a space station is a horrible place to have a telekinetic mind quake.

I’m not kidding at all when I say these special effects delight me. Apparently I’ve been craving a sci fi show of a certain age. But they’ve mostly been space explosions and lightning - not that I’m complaining! They’re lovely space explosions and lightning. But I freaking love this force field.

Some jump point info I’ve been craving - for this jump, Catherine leaves from and also arrives at a jump point structure. Do they have to send the physical infrastructure at sublight speeds to each new location?

Poor Jason. This is very River Tam without a Simon Tam.

“Good old Psi Corps. You guys never cease to amaze me. All the moral fiber of Jack the Ripper. What do you do in your spare time? Juggle babies over a fire pit? Oops, there goes another calculated risk.” “You’re not helping the situation.” “Lady, you are the situation.”

You tell them, Ivanova! Ms Kelsey looks delighted at the prospect of handling-or-murdering Jason, while Walter Koenig looks ominous as hell. They’re a good horror duo. I’m horrified.

Jason, no. You’re still Jason. It’s OK. You can be becoming but also be yourself. This is a trauma reaction called depersonalization, it’s normal bby. He needs a weighted blanket and an EMDR therapist. Instead he’s got Psi Cops who are absolutely killing the unnerving vibe. Immaculate villain presentation. Not so good for the case of PTSD Jason is rapidly developing.

More special effects! I am delighted. Psi Corps dirt and 90s CGI. I’m in heaven.

Talia, earnestly: “He wants to see you [...] I know it’s asking you to take a terrible chance, but it’s the only one we’ve got.” Sinclair, confidently: “All right. Where and when.”

😭The trust for his crew! and maybe also a smidge of that death wish from the war. Also, telepath sex sounds both terrifying and extremely hot. But mostly terrifying. Like, that’s a little extra. Eye contact is a little much for me sometimes, but go ahead and make your soul a mirror, Talia. You do you babe. I bet Susan will be into it.

What in the fuck is Catherine gotten into. Seems like G’Kar was not kidding about weird, dangerous shit floating around this area. Good thing he’s gonna turn up before she crashes.

Jason’s bit about Psi Corps’ control fixation reminds me of Terry Pratchet’s bit about evil being when you treat people as things to be controlled instead of persons. Believe him, Sinclair! He’s been 1000% more polite than Walter Koenig and Ms Murder.

Secret ops! Secret ops! They’re definitely going to be able to keep it secret from the two, level 12 telepaths hanging around looking for secrecy in general.

“Please. No, don’t make me do this. You cannot harm me. You cannot harm one who dreamed a dream like mine.”

OH SHIT he really can vaporize people. (and get harmed a little by that utterly delightful ray gun. How is it that it looked ten times more fake than the phasers in Star Trek TOS from the 60s? Amazing. And again - not a complaint.)

He supernova’ed! This is amazing. This is the best episode.

Sinclair and Garibaldi are a little too good at blackmailing people and covering up evidence.

*whispers* telekinetic Talia. Telekinetic Talia! Telekinetic Talia?

I like this strange relationship G’Kar seems to be cultivating with Catherine. He’s not like this with anyone else.

Eldritch beings hanging out in the universe, cool!

“They are a mystery and I am both terrified and reassured that there are still wonders in the universe and we have not yet explained everything. [...] They must walk there alone.”

This episode delighted me in every way.

Next!

#Catherine Sakai #Talia Winters #babylon 5 #g’kar #it took me this long to upload because canva was giving me a fucking fit #woodsfae gif #ft: 90s graphics #flashing #tw flashing #woodsfae b5

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angelicinserts · 2 years

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Omg I love your blog so much there aren't that many mgr headcanons on tumblr thank you so much!!!

Can I req for alternative version of the hug scene where Raiden accepts Armstrong offer to be on his side

Both writing or hcs are good 👍

i tried my best here i hope you enjoy !

The words of the slain Winds of Destruction ring in Raiden’s head, more Sam than anyone else. He feels the need to prove him wrong, but at the same time…

There was always something so morbidly addicting to bloodshed for Raiden, something he tried his best to suppress for years, to no avail.

The fight with Armstrong was more taxing than he imagined, and unfortunately he was making way too many good points.

Realizing that maybe this isn’t something he couldn’t strong-arm by himself, Raiden accepts Armstrong’s outstretched hand, the olive branch between the two blooming.

This isn’t what Maverick wanted, not what he wanted, but World Marshall was too large, too powerful to take on his own and there was no way he could do it alone, if at all.

Fully embracing The Ripper, Raiden abandons his previous life with nothing more than a note to Maverick, and a sincere apology to Bladewolf, Sam’s sacrifice meaning nothing in the end to its dismay.

Jack is refitted with Desperado colors and a new sword, along with a better eye-patch. He dubs himself “Aratiri” to slightly keep with the Winds theme, Aratiri meaning “bolt of lightning”.

#mgr raiden #steven armstrong #senator armstrong #mgr headcanons #angel shaped art #ALSO. IS ARMSTRONGS NAME A FUCKING JOKE ? A PUN ???#strong arm: do shit with Violence and Gratuitous Force. Armstrong: Doing Shit With Violence And Gratuitous Force #why am i just. figuring this out STARS ABOVE UGH #moon these aren't as long as i wanted but i Cannot Think Anymore.#hi hey hello my names io and i worship the moon and space can u tell. no god here only my radiant lady and her Many Many Bright Children.

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poisonwrites · 1 year

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Hot Time in the Old Town

Rating: M

Pairing: Will Graham / Hannibal Lecter

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary

Will's a local police officer, hot on the trail of notorious alcohol and arms dealer Mason Verger. He attends Verger's lavish Mardi Gras bash, with plans on getting enough evidence to put the man away for good-- that is, until a young dancer with a wicked smile and a dark stare catches Will's eye. 1920's AU - In the middle there was one dancer, slightly smaller than the other two and appearing, despite his corset and thigh-high stockings, to be male. When Will’s eyes landed on him, he was like a fly on honey; trapped in the brown irises that met him across the room. The dancer’s gaze, his face—it was like a strike of lightning, setting fire to every nerve in Will’s body with something indescribable. Something familiar. Will didn’t let his eyes leave the boy for one moment after that, even when he jumped down from the stage, sauntering somewhere vaguely towards the back of the house.

Link to AO3

Thank you to @lectercunt for betaing and for the Will and Hannibal edits featured in the moodboard! Smooches!

When Jack sent Will to scope out the party for the night, he had been less than thrilled to leave his house and venture into the French Quarter during Mardi Gras, and even less thrilled when he realized the party he was crashing was one for those who indulged in some of the more…alternative lifestyles. Forget arresting the partiers for consumption of alcohol— Will was sure he could have at least a third of them arrested for sodomy alone.

But that wasn’t what he was there for, so he kept his eyes focused forward on the glittering costumes and the bubbles upon bubbles of champagne swirling in crystal glasses. It wouldn’t do him any good to begin arresting the partygoers for drinking, and thankfully, that wasn’t what he was there for either. What he was there for was the man at the top: Mason Verger. A man that he and his colleagues suspected was responsible for the rise in alcohol and weapons littering the streets of New Orleans like popcorn at a circus. It would also stand to reason that a seasoned criminal with more than just ties to the underworld would not only know about the booze trade, but perhaps the infamous killer painting New Orleans’ streets red with blood: The Ripper. If they couldn’t get him on solicitation, perhaps they could knock a lead or two out of him.

In the process of blending in, though, Will perhaps had indulged in a few too many glasses of champagne for himself (what Jack didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him) and was feeling rather abstract in his thinking. He made his way through the mass of bodies—wrapped in silks and beads and feathers—until he reached the pulsing, bleeding heart of the bash. In the center of everything—the girls, the waiters, the partiers—there was a raised podium which was large enough to fit three dancers. Their bodies moved together to the music that trilled from the brass band beneath them, the sweat of their skin catching like glitter in the light of the mansion.

In the middle there was one dancer, slightly smaller than the other two and appearing, despite his corset and thigh-high stockings, to be male. When Will’s eyes landed on him, he was like a fly on honey; trapped in the brown irises that met him across the room. The dancer’s gaze, his face—it was like a strike of lightning, setting fire to every nerve in Will’s body with something indescribable. Something familiar. Will didn’t let his eyes leave the boy for one moment after that, even when he jumped down from the stage, sauntering somewhere vaguely towards the back of the house. It took an internal deliberation of one, two moments before Will followed him, only to be stopped by none other than the host of the party: Mason Verger himself.

It took much too long for Will to shake off Verger’s attention, and by the time he did, Will’s mystery dancer was most likely long gone. Still, he headed towards the back of the house, where french doors opened onto a green, green lawn. The light of the house only stretched so far, though, and Will would have been keen to dismiss the darkness as being empty, had there not been the sudden flash of a match being lit. When it glowed orange, Will saw for a brief moment who held it: the dancer.

It was easy, then, to walk out onto the lawn and into the darkness—back to an alcove no other partygoers had noticed. When he reached the dancer, the boy smirked, offering out his cigarette like a lady might offer her hand to be kissed. Will took it.

“I thought you intended on keeping me waiting forever,” the boy said, his voice cradling the vowels, but not with a Creole accent— something foreign.

“Got caught up,” Will said by way of apology.

The boy shrugged. “It would be your loss.”

“I’m sure,.” Will agreed as he took a seat in one of the veranda chairs. Out here, the music from the party was just a faint pulse, no louder than the hum of his own heart in his ears. He watched as the mystery boy walked towards him, stopping just short of their knees touching. The boy’s exposed, pale skin glittered in the moonlight; a fine jewel among the sordid city, but with a few white slivers of healed scars. Will took a long drag off the cigarette, just as he noticed something…else glint on the boy—something that stained the fingers of his silk gloves a dark black.

“I didn’t miss anything important in the meantime, I hope…” Will flicked his eyes back up to the boy, who grinned down at him like a cat.

“Hannibal, if you were asking my name.”

“Hannibal,” Will tried the name on his tongue. It dissolved like sugar— tasted just as sweet.

Hannibal began plucking off his gloves, turning them inside out so whatever was on the outside was now tucked away. He let them fall to the ground, an act which Will missed completely, as the boy straddled his lap, plucking the cigarette from Will’s lips. His mouth fell open at the boy’s audacity, and the way his ass ground ardently back onto his thighs. Hannibal put the cigarette into his mouth with another feline smile.

“Do you want to touch me?” he asked. His pretty pink nipples peeked out above the corset, and Will had the urge to lean forward and lick one into his mouth. Instead, he moved one of his hands from Hannibal’s hips to the boy’s arse, where he palmed just slightly at whatever frilly undergarment he was trying to pass off as clothing.

“Forward,” Hannibal purred, breathing out a smoky cloud into Will’s face, “I like that.”

Something hot and dark was coiling in Will’s belly. It made Will brazen, just as heat shot through to his fingertips, his toes. “You seemed like the type,” he breathed.

“Careful,” Hannibal said, and gracefully, he stooped forward, nudging Will’s nose with his own before continuing, “Someone might get the wrong idea about you— out here in the dark with a boy.”

Will let his hand trace up Hannibal’s chest to his collarbone, gingerly up and up until his hand was wrapped lightly around the base of Hannibal’s throat. The boy gave a soft groan, letting Will pull him in until their lips just barely touched.

“I’m not worried.” Will held his ground, not moving that tantalizing centimeter forward that would crush their lips together. Not even when Hannibal’s impish tongue darted out and licked Will’s lower lip. “I don’t think you’d let anybody see us, Mr. Lecter, especially given the blood on your gloves. Where did you hide the body? So many people out here…”

That—the recognition of Hannibal’s extracurriculars—excited the boy. His hips gave a stuttering grind downwards, just as fireworks began to crackle over the lawn. In flashes, Will was able to see into the boy’s eyes; blood red. Blood red and dancing with amusement, right before he bit down on Will’s lip. That was what finally snapped all of Will’s control— his hand on Hannibal’s throat moved to his hair, using the fine strands to pull the boy in for a teeth-cracking kiss. Between them and on their tongues, there was the taste of blood. Will’s blood, perhaps, from where Hannibal had bitten his lip? Or blood from something else?

Hannibal pulled back, panting and flushed red, just as Will began grinding up to meet him. As fireworks crackled, Will felt something new wash over him, like the sensation of being at the top of a cliff and knowing you could just…throw yourself off. His brain hummed with adrenaline.

“You said it yourself: I’m not worried,” Hannibal clarified, wiping a smudge of blood from the corner of his lips. “And I’m not worried about you either, officer Graham—” And there it was. The freefall. “If you decide to go to Jack Crawford tonight, I’ll make sure to be right behind you with all the proof I need to have you kicked off the force for…” He swiveled his hips, before continuing with a suggestive purr, “indecency.”

Damn this kid, Will thought, damn him for being so much more than a pretty face. He tightened his fingers in Hannibal’s hair even more and finally, finally the boy let out a small whine of pain.

“Then let's make the accusations worthwhile, hm?” he growled, and blissfully, their lips connected once more under the shower of sparks above them.

Fin.

#hannigram #hannigram fanfiction #hannibal #murder husbands #will graham #hannibal lecter

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