#COMPACTED GIFS (I HAD MY REASONS)

[bl-bam-beyond]

FATTARA DOSHABURI (2025, JAPAN)

Episode 4

Last Week: Nakarai (ITO ASAHI) and colleague Hagiwara Kazuaki (MUTO JUN) learned they were sharing an email chain commiserating about one another's lack of intimacy. A shock for sure.

This Week: Now that the truth is out. Nakarai predict that the emails will end. Obviously the mystery kept it more exciting. But instead Hagiwara wants to have dinner together. Later both are again rebuffed by their significant or rather insignificant others.

Hagiwara contacts Nakarai for an "answer" and gets a phone number and a call me message.

Next week on the penultimate episode: Infidelity. Hagiwara is heterosexual (maybe bisexual) while Nakarai is homosexual (but not really because he revealed he usually dated women so he bisexual) either way these 2 sex starved men are all over each other. Will they go through with the infidelity that has been looming over them?

@pose4photoml @just-another-boyslove-blog

[bouncybongfairy]

Late Night At Fazbear's

Mike Schmidt x Fem Reader

Summary: Mike is an ex-coworker with whom you have a situationship with. Knowing about your interest in arcade games, he invites you to visit him at an abandoned pizzeria to check it out. Things get a little heated before you get a chance to look around.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were working on some last-minute statistics homework after you got out of the shower. It was a Friday night and even though you got an offer from your friend group to go out, you decided to stay home. Going to house party after party was getting annoying. Half the time, the only people there were drunk frat boys trying to get some before their whiskey dick kicked in. Being a wing girl for your friends was fun the first thirty times but now you’d rather stay home. Things in your life seemed so stagnant, it was like all you did was school, work, then bumming it at home. Like you were some uncharismatic dad in a sitcom. Suddenly your phone goes off, which breaks you out of the trance you were in. When you answered, you immediately recognized the voice to be Mike from the pizza place you guys used to work at together. You thought it was kinda weird that he was calling you so randomly but you did talk often when working together. For reasons that still are unclear, you answered.

“Hey! Sorry I know this is- it’s kinda random but can you talk for a second?” his voice spoke over the receiver. 

“Yeah, I’m just hanging out at home. What’s up?” you asked, now standing up to pace around your room. 

“Oh cool cool, so kinda weird to explain but bear with me here. Remember how you were super obsessed with the old arcade games we had in the back of the pizza shop? Anyway, I got this new job at an old pizzeria and there’s a bunch of old games and animatronics. I was thinking while I’m working the graveyard shift you could maybe swing by for an hour or two and check it out with me?” His voice was so sweet and soft-spoken that you couldn’t help but blush over the phone. You coiled your finger around the wire of the landline. 

“Umm, yeah that sounds kinda fun actually, when are you there till?” you asked with a hint of a smirk on your face. 

“My shift starts at 12 am and ends at 6 am, no pressure. Obviously, I’ll be here all night,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll call you right before I leave okay?” you asked softly. 

“Yeah that’s perfect, I’ll see you then,” he said. 

You put the phone back on its hook and check the time on your alarm clock. To your dismay, you’d been studying for two hours and it was 10:50. Luckily you’d already showered but that wasn’t the problem. Internally, you were going through a moral dilemma. Part of you was telling yourself that he was just a coworker that got attached and another part, wanted to do your hair and make-up and hair before going. Making sure that every strand sat just right as if he’d somehow notice. To make sure your eyelashes have the exact amount of mascara they need to be long but not clumpy. If you thought all these things, wouldn’t that mean you do care what he thinks of you? Although you were bubbling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you managed to finish getting ready. You start packing your bag, pacing around looking for all your items. Car keys, pocket knife, compact, body spray, and your wallet. As you went to take the cartoon of cigarettes from your bedside table, you thought about taking the joint that was rolled. Sitting on your knees in front of your nightstand, you start dialing Mike’s number to let him know you are on the way. After shoving all the contents into the bag, you make your way outside and start your Mazda. You were sitting in the car for a few moments, thinking about if you were really going. 

Once you pulled into the parking lot, thoughts of regret started to bubble in your brain. You would have turned around if it weren’t for Mike’s car being in the parking lot. You checked the time on the radio and saw that it was only 12:57, was it weird that you were there so early? You were slightly worried that it would look desperate. Deciding to let that unneeded anxiety go, you get out of the car and lock your doors. Take a moment to take in the outside of the building. It appeared to be severely unkempt, brown vines covered most of the building. Due to the unsettling vibe of the building, the bear that was supposed to look cute and inviting was the exact opposite. Creating an ominous feeling as it waved at you. The walls were mostly a dull yellow color with red and blue accents and a black and white checkered line across the middle. One of the R’s of the sign was out, only adding to the sketchy feeling. You knocked on the big metal doors, wiping your knuckles off on your jeans. When Mike swung the door open, it made you jump and gasp. This caused him to break out into a fit of laughter. You playfully pushed his shoulder back. 

He took you back to the small room where he was monitoring all the security footage. The room was more creepy than the outside of the building. You sat down on the desk and Mike plopped down on his office chair. He was completely slouched back, wearing a gray thermal and a dark hooded sweater. His hair was more curly than shaggy and he had a five o’clock shadow. You set your purse on the desk and stood up, looking at the security cameras. One of the first things you noticed was the group of animatronics that were standing on the stage together. It was then that you realized what you really had gotten yourself into. 

He was surprised that you even came, yes you guys had become close while working together but he didn’t think it would lead to anything after. You were currently facing away from him, and he couldn’t help but admire you as you did so. He liked the fact that you were so well put together. Your jeans were fitted perfectly and your thong peaked out slightly from the top of your waistband. When you entered the small room, the entire space began to smell like apple-scented perfume. The white long sleeve was also very fitted, which brought attention to your figure. You turned around once you noticed it had been silent for a while. Grabbing your purse, you pull out the cartoon of cigs. Bringing the lighter to it and taking a drag to light it. After taking a couple of puffs you pass it to Mike who leans forward with a groan. As he took his hit, a piece of ash fell onto his pants. You leaned down and brushed it off his knee. 

“So much for cutting back right?” he asked rhetorically. 

“Oh yeah, I did switch to Spirits though. My grandma swore by these,” you said taking it back. 

“Do you smoke weed?” he asked, you laughed and started digging through your bag and pulled out the Altoids container, grabbing the joint. 

“Will you get in trouble? For like, smoking on the job?” you asked. 

“Oh no, this place is abandoned. There’s usually nobody in and out of here that would notice,” he said. 

You lit the joint and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke at his face playfully. He laughed as he took the joint into his hands and inhaled. You put the cig out on the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. He commented on how good the flower tasted which made you relieved knowing he didn’t think it was reggie. You guys started talking about memories of working together. You guys would always take smoke breaks together and go to lunch every once and a while. Mike actually listened to what you had to say. He wasn’t the type of person that constantly changed to a conversation with himself. A lot of guys you spoke with were usually just telling you whatever you wanted to hear. Everything you had to say was so fascinating and impressive because they were just trying to butter you up. Mike would actually give his opinions on things and would tell you if he thought what you were saying was stupid. It was refreshing, to be honest, to have an interaction with the opposite sex without them drooling on you. You glanced over at Mike, maybe it was the weed but something felt different now. The way his legs were spread so widely made something in you feel hot. Eyes were now bloodshot, making the hazel color stand out even more than before. When he reached for the joint again, his hand brushed over yours. This made you make eye contact with him but then break away once the awkwardness set in. You looked down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you still with Jackson?” he asked.

“What? Oh yeah, we broke up a while ago,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Well, what happened? I mean… If you don’t mind me asking,” he said. 

“No it’s- he just..” you took a deep inhale and spoke as the smoke poured out of your mouth, “he was really aggressive like, not just with his words. Not saying he beat me or anything but some things are meant to be more sweet and gentle. Sorry, I don’t know why I'm telling you this,” you said, passing it back. 

“No, I’m the one who brought it up. He always was a little misogynistic when we talked, I’m sorry you were subjected to that,” he said. You were sitting on the desk, you kicked off your sandals and gently swung your legs back and forth. 

“Yeah, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” you sighed.

“For sure, you could do so much better than that,” he said. 

“Oh yeah? When you say better what do you mean by that?” you asked, leaning over to grab the joint. 

“Like if you said he was overly aggressive then you’ll find someone that is more gentle and shit,” he said, chuckling a little. 

“Oh, I see,” you moved your foot so that it was resting on his inner thigh before continuing, “Maybe you could show me?” you asked flirtatiously, he looked up and looked at you with a shocked expression. 

You used your leg to roll him closer to where you were sitting. He was now smirking, looking up at you. He let his hands slide up both your outer thighs. He pulled you off the desk so that you were now sitting in his lap facing him. You still had the joint in your hand, you took a hit before letting it sit on the ashtray. Your noses were touching and you were relieved to see that his breath was as fast as yours. Running your fingers through his hair, forcing his head to tilt back a little. You ran your bottom lip across his, arching your back and pressing your crotches together. He picked you up which caused you to wrap your legs around his waist. He set you on the desk again so that he was standing, hovering over you. You reached your hands down between your bodies, trying to unbuckle his belt. He stopped the kiss and chuckled at your eagerness and helped you. As you unzipped his jeans, one of his arms reached behind you and undid the clasps of your bra. The way he unhooked it with one hand made you throb. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but jeans. He still had his jeans on but now that his pants were undone, you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. It was like the heat coming off his dick was making your stomach feel warm and tight. Before he buried his face into your chest, the look on his face was almost primal. Like it was taking everything he had to keep his hands off of you. He took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked, biting down every once in a while. He reached into his backpack that was sitting on the desk and pulled out a condom. He was breathing heavily and a couple of drips of sweat were beading down his forehead. As you unzipped your jeans you looked over at the security camera and thought you saw one of the animatronics move from the stage. You pulled away for a second to show him,

“Mike, I know we smoked and everything. Oh my god, I know this is going to be crazy but I swear I just saw one of those… things moved,” you said as he trailed kisses up your shoulder. 

“This is my third day here and I think that all the time. It’s just your head playing tricks on us because of how creepy they look,” he said, then tearing the foil package open. 

“Are you sure because I could have..” you started but then were interrupted by Mike throwing the still-packaged condom onto the desk and pressing a button that made both doors close around you. He then got down on his knees and gripped the top of your jeans, pulling them down. Instead of trying to pull your panties off of you, he simply pulls them to the side. Sticking his tongue in between your folds, massaging your clit. You had been in a dry spell since you broke up with Jackson and even then, he would never go down on you. The feeling of his mouth pressed against you was so euphoric, the moans that came out of your mouth were completely natural and unrehearsed. His pace was slow but he kept a steady rhythm which helped you chase to your climax. Instead of pulling at his hair, you cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up and made direct eye contact with you. His eyebrows were furrowed but when he saw the look on your face, his eyes closed and he groaned loudly. He grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs back so that your feet were now on the desk. You grabbed two fistfuls of hair and threw your head back, moaning loudly. The pressure of the top of your thighs being pressed into your lower stomach. Crying out as you cum, the moans came out strangled. As you started to come down from the wave of ecstasy, you began to feel insecure about how fast he made you cum. 

“God you are so fucking hot, like seriously I almost came in my boxers,” he said standing up and grabbing the condom. His lips were parted and his mouth was still covered in saliva. Without wiping his mouth, he slid the rubber onto his shaft. 

“Sorry, do you want to keep going?” he asked, you didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you grabbed him by his shirt and smashed your mouth into his. He moaned the word ‘fuck’ into your mouth before continuing kissing. He broke away to look down and line himself up with your entrance. You were still wet and swollen from the previous orgasm, enabling him to slide in with you easily. He dropped his forehead down on your shoulder, mouth open and moaning as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you. You scooted your ass down so that you could fully be pressed against his hips. The desk was continuously banging up against the wall. Your foreheads were now pressed together groaning and growling into each other’s mouth. Everything suddenly came to a halt when everything went dark. You both jump and start looking for any articles of clothing that are nearby. The big metal doors on both sides of you slam open so loud, that your ears start ringing. 

“What the fuck just happened!” you exclaim.

“The battery died,” he realizes. 

“Well has that ever happened while you’re working?” you asked.

“No,” he stated. 

“Holy fuck, do you hear that fucking music?” you whispered. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

resending the req :)

can I have a thing of sylus and zayne visiting uni student reader who has been staying at the library for long hours and late into the night? been stuck in library jail as of late n just need a lil smth QwQ

Late night studies at the local library wasn’t uncommon for you, needing to get as much information from text books compacted to a easily rememberable format to put down in your notebooks, just so you could have an opportunity to -hopefully- pass your fucking exams.

However you had seemingly lost track of time as soon enough it was dark outside and your phone was being blown up by text messages from Sylus that dated back hours ago. Your phone had been put on silent and you were too busy studying to even notice the text notifications piling up in the slightest.

You internally winced. You knew that Sylus wasn’t a fan of being ignored and most likely had sent Mephisto to check up on you for the reason of your inactivity. As though struck by the god of prophecy himself, you heard a familiar birds cawing, followed by a metallic tapping against glass that made you perk up towards one of the windows across from you; only to see a pair of glowing red eyes peering back at you with its head tilted to the side almost quizzically.

‘Mephisto?’ You asked silently but before you could figure out how far Sylus must be if Mephisto was already here, a hand clasped on your shoulder and pulled you away from your table and into his strong arms and chest. ‘You’ve overstayed your welcome again kitten.’ A voice purred in your ear and it didn’t need no explanation that it belonged to Sylus himself, who was smirking at you once you pulled away from his embrace.

‘Sylus?’

He smirk widens. ‘Someone was ignoring my texts for textbooks, so I got Mephisto to see what was so important you were actively avoiding me.’ He says as he looked over your pile of books and scattered notes before looking back at you and noticing how worse for wear you looked. ‘Did you eat or drink today?’ He asks honestly but the silence that followed his question hung heavily in the air only gave him the answer he needed as he huffs.

‘Come along sweetie, it’s time you let yourself have a break and allow me to make you something to apprise that hunger you’ve been ignoring all day.’ Sylus gently flicks your forehead, making your wince, before kissing it and whispering, ‘you’ve done enough for today, the world isn’t going to grow legs and leave the moment you shift your gaze elsewhere, and besides you’ll do fine in the exams my smart little cookie.’ He then pulls away to start putting your things back into your bag in an calm and organised manor.

‘How do you know that I’ll be okay?’ You asked, holding your hand out to take your bag off of his hands after he’d finished packing away everything. Sylus swats your hand away and keeps a hold of your bag on his shoulder just as his other hand intertwines your fingers as he pull you out of the library, where a car was waiting outside for you. ‘You’re my smart cookie, there’s no possible way you’d fail.’ He replies confidently.

‘And if I fail?’

Sylus looks to you and boops you on the nose with his own and he leaned in close to your face. ‘Doesn’t change that fact that you are smart in your own right darling, now let’s go home and watch your favourite show and eat dinner then finish off with desert as a treat for all your hard work.’

Zayne knew by the time on his phone and how dark it had become outside that you had forgotten that the passage of time exists as you stayed overtime at the library.

He also was certain that you didn’t allow yourself mandatory breaks either as you often forgot to do so most times without reminders in the form of his texts. He knew how much the exams meant to you but he wasn’t about to allow you to neglect your own health and safety -especially when it got as dark as it did- for them. He wouldn’t allow you to endanger your health nor wellbeing for grades.

After making you a generous amount of food to eat, Zayne grabbed his coat, his keys and left your shared living space and heads to his car before driving off towards the library to pick you up, he’d be damned if he lets you walk home at this time of night.

You were half asleep and were about to use your notebook as a makeshift pillow. You didn’t know what time it was but what you weren’t expecting was to look out a nearby window and be met with seemingly never ending darkness. ‘Was it really nighttime already? That can’t be, let me check my- ow.’ You grimaced as you looked at your phone, it was indeed nighttime and not only that you had gotten several texts from Zayne reminding you to eat, drink and take mandatory breaks; to which you’ve completely ignored and had been running on nothing but the need to get this revision done and over with the entire day.

You didn’t have much time to respond to Zayne’s previous texts before a new one popped up:

Zayne ❄️: I’m coming to pick you up, it’s too dark to be walking home at this time. I’ve been made you some food to eat at home as I know you’ve been occupied by your studies to do so.

You hated how well Zayne knew you but were extremely grateful that he wasn’t annoyed with your habits as of late due to your stress over the exams. You also knew he didn’t condone your lack of eating, sleeping and drinking but you also get on his ass for exactly the same thing when he overworked himself in the hospital, he’s one of the best they had and you’d couldn’t allow him to ignore his own needs and you knew that he wouldn’t let you forgot your either.

And with that you quickly started packing up all your belongings and shoving them back into your bag before playing on your phone for a good while, only for it to be cut short when spotting Zayne stood at the entrance of the library from the corner and immediately perked up. ‘Zayne.’ You said as you ran towards him and gave him a massive hug that he reciprocated with his own as he rubs your back soothingly.

‘You’ve not eaten nor taken any breaks have you at all today?’ He asks and you flinch because of course that’s the first thing he asks.

‘I got a little too deep in studying that by the time I looked up from my notebook it was already nightfall.’ You admitted to him and you heard him sigh before pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Well it’s a good thing I’ve made you something at home in preparation for this outcome.’ Zayne said in response as he began to guide you out of the library and towards his car parked out front. ‘You’ve done enough hard work for today, allow your body to rest and put your mind at ease for you’ll do well in the exam.’ He adds.

‘What if I fail.’ You asked, scared of that being the outcome.

Zayne moved in front of you, holding your face between his hands as he smiles softly. ‘Then you’ve tried your best and that is more than enough, no need to beat yourself up about results that are yet to come.’ He then kissed your forehead and drove you both back home where you were well fed and fell asleep almost instantly afterwards.

[msfandomsblog]

Alastor x fem!ballerina-reader

This is my first alastor x reader fic! I don't know how many parts imma make but it will be somewhat a slow burn.

Also this is mostly your backstory

Hope you enjoy!

warnings: use of y/n, being laughed at, implied death, blood, readers insane like Al, guns, suicide, kinda short anddddddd yeah

In life you were one of the greatest pointe dancer in the world. In death, eh, not so much. Yes you danced but this was simple practice, hell wasn't exactly known for its refined~ practice. Your demon form was simple, you were tall (charlie sized) pale and had small wings on your back. Swan wings, that you could enlarge in and out at your will, not that you usually needed to. You mostly had them compact to your back. Most of your friends wondered why you were in hell to begin with, you were always civil to most characters. There was ofc the off-hand time where you'd threaten any demon who'd dare touch you or close friends, but... who's keeping count!?

As for the reason why you were there well... yes being a dancer had its purks but, it had just as many faults.

More then once at a young age in life you were cast for the villain rolls of dances, plays, etc.

You asked you teachers why and their answer was always, "the way you play it y/n! your body language, face and being on stage! you just do it so well"

As you progressed through as an actress and dancer you were never the 'princess' or the main heroin. Only the dark, cold villain. The black swan, The mouse king, Maleficent. How you longed to be the beauty and not the beast.

Not only did this anger you but soon after a while many other dancers would avoid you because of your 'villain' demeanor on stage. This caused you to grow a hatred for your fellows. It all became too much one day.

It was dress rehearsal, your last one before your last show, and the boys got a wise idea for a prank to play on their black swan. When rehearsing your first entrance you moved over to stage right when suddenly a type of slime/glue pored on you, burning your eyes and ruining your clothes. Then the lead boy shot what looked like a party popper at you but instead of confetti, landed black feathers. The boys were on hunched over laughing, 'childish' you thought while glaring at them.

Every other dancer turned their heads or ran over to see what was oh so funny. Once they all started laughing or turned their head to hide smiles, the director yelled at them all, "oi! that's enough, this isn't a baby recital that you did when you were 5! this isn't mature! Boys, help y/n and run 40 laps around the stage ey?" But it was too late, you'd decided right then and there.

So they saw you as the villain hm? You'd be happy to oblige.

The next day you played your part amazingly well but it was your next audition that excited you. It was for the seasonal part in the nutcracker. As always you were given the part, The mouse king.

When you met the lead playing Clara, the young girl heroin, you saw she was a perfectly civil young dancer. She met her end quickly enough tho.

When you came around to auditioning for The Sleeping Beauty and once again did not get Aurora, you found it quite enjoyable to get rid of the blonde broad that played her.

Then there was Romeo and Juliet. you never did audition for this one, reasons unknown to you. But when you did you somehow found that you felt no sadness you got the email saying that you didn't get the part of Juliet. You instead found joy when you cracked a wide smile as the blood of the girl who did get the part flowed down your hands.

Pretty thing she was, good dancer too. poor thing. ah well.

After about 3 years of of getting away with this little 'hobby; of yours you were found out and surrounded by a large S.W.A.T team. The team leader spoke softly to you.

"Miss y/n, please put your hands up, and drop the gun."

You were so annoyed by this, you'd had to use the damn thing to kill a small African-american girl who was playing Coopelia. You didn't like using guns but this was supposed to be quick. You'd even bought a silencer for the job.

"No officer, I don't think I will." You said back. you smiled as you turned to face the 20 guns pointed at you.

"You won't make it out alive L/n" He said trying to convince you.

"I don't plan on it," And smiling you flipped them off as you shot the gun at your own neck.

OKKKKKKK that was part 1! I hope ya'll like it and stay tuned. I don't know if you could tell but I am ballet dancer, I'm not professional yet but I know quite a bit.

y/n might be oc just a warning but again my first fic sooooo.

Anyway!!!!!! have a good day/night little humans!

part 2!

[toulousewayne]

Beyond the Bat: Pt II 🦇

Batfamily x batsis!reader

Synopsis: Three years since Bruce’s disappearance, and with all of Batman’s former Robins gone, Gotham is under protection of the Batwoman, but she will need help to take on one of Gotham biggest Civil Wars ever.

——

The blaring of sirens, the existence sounds of horns and swearing. And the strong aroma of urine and hot dogs. New York. Y/n leaned back in her seat mentally preparing herself for the facade she’d have to endure during this events.

“Most of the young masters disliked these things as well.” Alfred offered his warmest smile as the towncar pulled behind several others unloading their occupants.

“I can’t say I enjoyed them when I had to attend them with Bruce.” She adjusted her hair and checked her makeup in a compact mirror as the car stopped at the entrance of the Met.

Alfred step out first and opened the door for her. She signed as she was blinded by bright spotlight, camera flashes and the shouts and comments from reporters and photographers.

“How will I find him?” She whispers with a fake smile.

Alfred offers a sincere chuckle. “Most likely it’s Master Timothy who will find you.” He gets back into the car and it pulls off. Y/n strolls into the building not paying any of the screaming photographers questions about who she was.

Engulfed in a room of classical sonnets, ensembles of rich elite socialites fill the room. She descends the staircase and into the heart of the party. Gaining some glances both in awe and of disbelief. Y/n cross the room to the bar and scans its fellow patrons.

“Looking for someone?” A man asks with a Scotch in hand. The man looks familiar but also like someone she has never seen before.

“It’s possible,who wants to know?” She grins. The man smiles warmly.

“Just someone who finds these..things a bit over the top.” She studied the man with light blue eyes and gel back hair. The man was handsome at least in his later twenties or early thirties.

“Like wise.” Y/n turned to the bartender who placed a drink before. “I didn’t order this-“

The bartender pointed down the bar to a man old enough to be considered for a room in retirement home winked at her.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend.” The man next to her smirks. Y/n glares at him before getting to her feet the man is not far behind.

“I was only teasing no need to get worked up.” She doesn’t answer him but instead makes a beeline for the dance floor until the next song begins and she swirled up in a sea of couples. She bumped right into the arms of the man she left at the bar.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” the man twirled during the song and the two continued to dance to the orchestra.

“I’m sure you find these sorta events interesting, this isn’t my scene.”

The man chuckled,”It’s more so I attend these events out of habit. Not so much because I enjoy people.” Y/n grins.

“In that case maybe you can help me. I’m looking for someone.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Tim Drake.” The man’s eyes go wide as the music stops and the crowd clap.

“Why are you looking for me?” It’s Y/n’s turn to look shocked. The two quickly move to the balcony above the party.

Tim’s features hardens as he ushers Y/n away from prying eyes. “Talk. Who sent you.”

“I need your help, Gotham is in the middle of a Civil War between the League and the Court of Owls.”

He studied her for a moment before speaking. “You’re the new Bat in town. Dick mentioned that.”

“I didn’t know you all kept in touch. Alfred will be pleased.” He shakes his hand running his hand down his face.

“Look, I’m sure you mean well but I have a life here.”

She walks closer to him. “I’m not asking you to abandon your life Mr. CEO. I just need your help for a few days. A week max and then I’ll never bother you again.”

He still stoic and sighs. “I life Gotham for a reason, I know Dick already denied helping you. I’ll talk to him. But I mean it once the threat is over and Bruce’s estate is settled don’t come looking for me.”

Y/n folds her arms. “I think that can be arranged. I’ll be going now I still have two more Robins to find.” Before she could leave Tim grabbed her forearm.

“You may be out of your depth with this. You don’t have to be like him.” His words hung in the air even after he let her arm go and returned to the party downstairs.

——

“Mommy, Mrs. Barbara took me get ice cream today. She even let me pick out my topping.” Roman squealed with excitement as he got ready for bed.

“That sounds like fun, are you behaving for Babs?” Y/n gleamed at the boy from her phone as the jet took off.

“Yes, she tomorrow I can go to see where she works. Mommy she’s so cool.”

“Rowan all these complements are going to go to my head. Hey go brush your teeth I need to talk to your mommy really quick.” Rowan passes the phone to Barbara who chuckles as the boy rushes out the door.

“How goes the search for the boys?”

Y/n glances out the window and turns back to her. “About as exciting as it can go. How’s things there?”

“A few more bodies were recovered this morning. It’s getting worse Nyssa is making her move and still no word for the Court. I don’t like how quiet they’re being it can only mean they’re planning something.”

“Did you get my message, any ideas where I can find the last two?”

Barbara nods and wheels into a different room. She begins typing and before speaking again. “I was able to piggyback Jason’s to his last known safe houses. But his signal keeps moving. I gave the coordinates to find Damian the jet should take you there. Be careful with everything Nyssa is plotting we don’t know the state of the league.”

“Very well.” Rowan comes back with toothpaste all over his mouth. “Goood n-night mom-my.”

“Good night sweetheart.” Y/n needs the call and sets back in her seat.

————

Y/n ventures into the deserts of Nanda Parbat. She glides down to the ground and observes the fortress.

“Alfred I can see the fortress, I’m moving in.” She notices arrows and swords on the ground.

A fight.

She progress inside the stronghold to find it still in a state of prestige. Batwoman enters the throne rooms and finds its barren.

“Alfred I th—

She’s cut off by a dark embedding itself into her side. She see three ninjas descend from the ceiling.

One of them shouts at her in Arabic. Before the charge her. She’s able to defeat them but soon more arrive until she’s overwhelmed by the waves of assassins and several more doses of the drug from the blow darts. A tall figured adored in gold, green and a demon mask strolls towards her.

His voice is distorted and soon Batwoman is dragged away before darkness consumes her entirely.

——

Slowly ringing is all that feels the void and her vision regains in a dungeon. Before her is the same figure.

“You’re awake. I was wondering how long before you would come here.” A deep voice boomed.

“Who are you,why am I chained up. Let me go!”

“Foolish girl, you break into my house. You do not get to make demands.” The figure step into the light and Y/n is taken aback.

The man before her looks very similar to Bruce. At least physically. His skin is a deep cooper compared to Bruce. His eyes are like to two jade stones. Starve features and manicured hair.

“You look like him.” The man’s gaze hardens he grabs her.

“Why did you come here?”

“Gotham, it’s in the middle of a war. With your assassins.” He growls.

“That faction you speak of is not mine, they’re loyal to my Grandfather’s cause for genocide and destruction.” Damian releases his grasp.

“I lead without bloodshed. As for you. You’re unworthy to wear that symbol, a fool to think you could ever be what my father stood for.”

Y/n is about to fire back at him but he snaps his figures and two assassins rush in and unchain her.

“Take your belongs, and leave. Don’t come back here.” He doesn’t face her as his tall figure leaves the cell.

“Wait!” Batwoman rushes after him. “I need your help Damian, just because your people are loyal to Nyssa doesn’t stop-“

He worlds around and his gaze burrows into hers. “Don’t lecture me on the separation within my army. I’m well aware of my aunt’s doing. I’ve tried for years to keep the league as one. I don’t need you to remind me of it.”

“Do you always have a stick up your ass?” He grids his jaw and towers over her.

“Leave.”

“Not until you agree to come with me. Trust me when I say this I don’t want to chase you all down, but I made a promise to your father that I would look after this godforsaken place. And I need your help these are your people they’ll listen to you.”

He scoffs. “They only listen to which ever ruler allows them to kill. They all have a bloodlust that can’t be stopped. And they won’t unless you kill them. But we both know you’ll do it.” He straights up and his features morph back into a glare.

“I’ve asked nicely I won’t ask a third time. Do not come back here, or you’ll regret it.” He leaves the hallway without another word.

——-

Several Assassins observe an apartment building. Raining pours down around them. One of them leaps across and peers into the window. Inside Barbara Gordon tucks Roman in for the night. She leaves the room and turns out the lights.

The Assassins watches the boy sleep and turns to the others.

“We have eyes on the boy, do you want us to strike?”

“No, we won’t make a move tonight, but Ms. L/n will soon learn about interfering with my operation.” Nyssa’s voice fills the Assassins ears. “Leave him for now, we’ll make our move tomorrow.”

The Assassins flee from the apartment as Barbara peers out the window in her living room before returning to her computer.

[vqnillla]

For me? ~ Tom kaulitz

fluff.

I sat cross-legged on the bed in one of the compact rooms inside the tourbus. Gently pressing my concealer into my skin with a sponge. Making sure my makeup looked good for tonight. I looked in the mirror at my finished and perfectly blended concealer before I picked up my mascara, and untwisting the wand. Before I could apply it, I hear heavy footsteps trudging my way.

"baby?" tom whispers, poking himself through the door, his expression softening once he saw me. Raising an eyebrow, "yeah?" I responded, smiling at him. "what colour are you wearing tonight?" he said, his voice low. I wondered why he asked me, cause it wasn't usual of him to do so.

For tonight, I had found the perfect dress. It was a thigh high, perhaps higher, skin tight red dress with long lace see-through sleeves, and a dip in the back, as does the front, obviously showing my cleavage. It fit me perfectly, though I was unsure if tom would approve.

"red, why?" I turned my head to the side slightly, squinting one eye a little.

He gave a knowing smirk, me still not clicking in what he was up to, so I went along with it. "no reason, your makeup looks beautiful, by the way." he smirks, speaking in a now seductive tone. He moved, slipping out the door. I let out a sigh, unsure of what all that was about, and I continued my makeup.

About half an hour of me, Bill, Gustav and Georg waiting, all sat on the sofa, our patience slipping for tom. He always dressed nice though, so it often took him a while to pick out an outfit.

"jesus fucking christ, what are you doing tom?!" bill huffed, making it clear that it was not only me getting pissed at how slow tom was being. "tom, can you please hurry u-" my words were soon cut short when he suddenly opened the bedroom door, and walked out. Holy shit.

I looked him up and down, he was dressed in red. Just like I told him what colour I was dressing in. Red baggy shirt, with baggy jeans, a red hoodie, which he had unzipped, his long dreads tied up into a ponytail as usual, his lip ring shining in the light, and a red cap to finish off the matching theme. Everyone else sighed, finally getting up off the sofa and walking towards the door, and walking out, leaving me and Tom standing, our gazes inking into eachothers. Surprised that he had not disapproved of my outfit.

He let out a soft giggle, his hands in his pockets and his head lowering as he did, clearly blushing as I could see a pink tint form on his cheeks. I let out a small 'awe', and it's true, I was really in awe. "baby? All this for me?" I smile, it atleast reaching my cheeks, feeling them grow warm.

He looked up, those beautiful pools of brown melting into my eyes. "yeah schatz, all for you."

He takes a few steps towards me, his hands snaking around my waist and pulling me closer. He rested his forehead against mine before giving the tip of my nose a bunch of small kisses, leaving me giggling. His lips landed on mine, fitting together in a passionate kiss.

We both pulled back a little, noses still touching. "I love you." I whisper, watching his lips curve up into a smirk. "I love you too baby." he responds with the same amount of love in his voice as I did mine.

We stay in eachothers embrace, only to jump in fright from bills voice calling us.

"hurry up you two! You can stare at eachother later!"

~

Hope you liked this🙏🏼 English is not my first language so there might be mistakes😭 luv u, feel free to leave any requests!! <3

Please know that this is inspired!! This original concept is not mine. cr goes to 'evieskiesss' <3

[mrs-kmikaelson]

06| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: While you busy yourself with making sure the deal with the witches runs smoothly, Klaus occupies himself by trying to figure you out. Warnings: none Words: 4.4K

Masterlist | Part 7

I walked into my house, throwing my keys on the side-table next to the door and shrugging off my jacket. I checked my watch: 2:01 PM, so Davina was still at school and wouldn't be back 'til she was done practicing with the witches. 

I just got back from lunch with Elijah where we went over the Mikaelson's terms in more detail. Genevieve had sent a witch to the Abattoir earlier like a carrier pigeon with an outline of their requests.

Pretty dramatic, if you ask me, but she was like just resurrected. She probably doesn't know how to text yet, so whatever.

After Elijah and I talked over everything, I left, telling him I'd type up the contract myself. As an immortal with plenty of time on my hands, I've gone to law school and pursued numerous careers, as I'm sure Elijah probably had, too, so there was no need to hire (compel) someone else to write this contract for us.

I made my way to my room, passing Davina's on the way which was filled with boxes and a few things placed haphazardly on the ground. My room looked a little different: pretty plain, bed parallel to the door. Normal, basically. 

I walked into my adjoining walk-in closet which was probably the most interesting thing about this room. At first glance, it looked mundane; there were some eye-catching statement pieces, but this closet otherwise just looked like a closet.

Unless you knew what to look for.

I closed the closet door for good measure and turned to the back wall, waving my hand and muttering, "Invisique saeclum." Instantly, the illusion of the wall disappear and another, smaller, more compact room was revealed.

It was lined with shelves, books stacked on top of each them. I walked closer, going to pick up the book closest to me. My grimoire. Like the rest of the books in this closet, it was dusty. I haven't needed to look for a spell in a long while. 

I placed it down on the island in the middle of the room before turning to find the other book I needed. Under a few other books, I found what I was looking for: Amelia's grimoire.

I put it down next to mine, staring at both of them. Strong nostalgia came over me. I hadn't looked at her grimoire in long time, or even my own, for that matter. Both of them should have been worn down now after all these years, but a simple preservation spell kept them in pristine condition, looking just as they had when I was younger.

My lips quirked up as I ran my hand along their covers, memories flashing before my eyes of my childhood. But as quick as the happiness came, it disappeared with the thought of how that very childhood was stolen from me.

Enough with memory lane.

I switched my focus onto the purpose of even grabbing these books, opening my grimoire and flipping through it until I found the page I was looking for. 

Illusion spells.

While I was very familiar with this type of spell, the one I wanted to perform was a little different. It was similar to the average cloaking spell, but I wanted a physical manifestation of an object: a decoy.

I wasn't stupid. I was never going to give Genevieve my aunt's grimoire. The only reason the witches wanted something so powerful was for leverage, and they weren't gonna get it. I knew all this last night, so instead of actually giving them Amelia's grimoire, I'd give them a copy.

But this copy had to feel real, tangible. Its energy needed to be able to be sensed in the same way it was with the real thing. They needed to feel like they could trust us, even if the Mikaelsons—or myself, for that matter—didn't trust them.

The thing with magic was that it worked through energy. Witches have their own special type of energy that enables them to perform spells. That's why you could practice magic without incantations; so long as the intent was there and it was strong enough, then your spell would work.

The reason why we often do use incantations is because words hold power. The history behind them holds enough energy to basically back the spell up. So, if you were using spells that weren't your own, then you would also want to use the chant because, without one, your own intent wouldn't be strong enough for the magic to pull through.

That's why I was going to change the incantations written down altogether.

At first, I was gonna exclude certain pages from Genevieve's copy completely, but then I realized that, without the powerful spells, she'd be less likely to trust us. So then I just change them so that they still made sense, but wouldn't work.

Without the written incantations that Bennetts had chanted in the past, these spells would be useless. If the words didn't hold any significance, then they were pointless.

Which was exactly my goal.

I hovered my left hand over Amelia's grimoire, hovering the other over blank space on the island. I closed my eyes and began, "Phantamogriphia decorum, appearatas veridical. Phantamogriphia decorum, appearatas veridical." After repeating this a few times, I felt the emergence of energy into the room and opened my eyes to see a book identical to Amelia's under my right hand.

I picked it up, flipping through it and stopping every once in a while to alter a spell, muttering incantations under my breath so the words on the page would appear as if they were Amelia's handwriting.

When I was done, I set it down on the island to compare it to Amelia's real grimoire. It was almost impossible to tell the difference unless you actually knew her. There was only a slight difference in the energy emitting from each book, but I knew this was fool-proof.

With a grin, I returned mine and Amelia's grimoires to their spots, bringing the cloak of the wall back. I grabbed the fake and stuffed it into my bag, tossing it onto a chair in my room. For now, I'd go type up the contract, then I'd walk over to the compound to give it to Elijah.

With that, I walked over to my office.

THIRD PERSON, THE NIGHT BEFORE

Klaus stood off to the side while his brother and his latest fixation spoke to the witches. He was silent; Elijah already warned him earlier not to cause a fuss, and the last thing he wanted was a fight with a Elijah. He had enough to deal with, this agreement included.

This evening, however, was not something he wanted.

Klaus couldn't care less if the factions tore each other apart in the streets. All of this was Elijah's doing, and so Klaus was only there to oversee it. Truth be told, he wasn't even going to show until Elijah told him Y/N was going to be there.

That caught his interest.

He couldn't figure it out, but there was something about this girl that pulled him to her. She looked familiar; he just couldn't pinpoint where he knew her from.

It seemed that others found her just as fascinating. For some reason, she had the trust of the Quarter's residents, but she wasn't going to get Klaus' trust so easily.

There was something off about her, something far greater than familiarity. And he was going to figure it out.

No matter what.

His attention was drawn away from Y/N when Genevieve cut her off. The words that came out of her mouth had stunned him.

"Esther Mikaelson's grimoire. We want Esther Mikaelson's grimoire."

Elijah's request for peace this evening suddenly went over his head. He scowled, "Are you out of your mind?"

"Niklaus-"

"I am not giving you my mother's grimoire. After what you tried to do to my family, you expect me to hand over-"

"Niklaus." Klaus stopped, turning to look at Elijah. His jaw clenched when he saw the look on his brother's face. He calmed down slightly, glancing at Y/N, wondering how she was going to talk her way out of this one.

Even as he glowered at Genevieve, he couldn't help but feel smug. There was no way out of this, and the oh so special Y/N would fail.

Or so he thought. 

Y/N declined her request, as he predicted. Genevieve went to pull out of the deal, as he predicted. What he didn't predict was what Y/N said next.

"I currently have a Bennett grimoire in my possession." His head snapped in her direction. His eyes met Elijah's who looked just as surprised as him. He glanced over at the witches who luckily didn't notice their reactions, too engulfed in shock of their own. "It's yours, so long as you accept."

The rest of the conversation became muffled to Klaus, as if he were underwater. He could tell she wasn't bluffing—that, or she was a really good liar. He suspected that both were true. So many thoughts ran through his head at once.

While he thought she must have won Elijah over with that save, this only deepened his own distrust in her. A Bennett's grimoire was extremely hard to come by. They were guarded as if they were the holy grail. If he, the Original Hybrid, wasn't able to get his hands on one, then how did a mere vampire acquire one?

And why was she giving it up like it was pocket change?

He tuned back into the conversation when all parties stood up, Y/N and Genevieve shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries that he didn't care for. As Elijah walked the witches out, Klaus didn't glance at Genevieve once, even though he felt like glaring at her whenever he saw her. Instead, his glare was directed to Y/N.

Their eyes locked, and Y/N only continued to surprise him by staring right back. She was confident, and assertive, and unfazed with every comment he threw her way. He kept trying to shake her, but she appeared to be rooted to her spot every time. This only annoyed him.

He was so focused that he didn't even notice when his brother walked back into the room. Elijah thanked her, making Y/N look away to respond. Klaus had an inkling that Elijah wouldn't bring up what just happened, so he had no choice but to be the one to do it.

"How do you have a Bennett grimoire in your possession?" He interrogated, suspicion audible in his voice. Elijah gave him a look that was ignored.

He watched Y/N's body language as she responded, looking for any signs of a lie. "I met one a few hundred years ago. She died after she was in the wrong place, wrong time, but she left that book to me."

She must take me for a fool, he thought. The nerve of her to think he'd believe that. "A Bennett witch left her grimoire with you, a vampire? Not with her family?" He enunciated each word slowly as if to emphasize his point.

A Bennett witch leaving something as valuable as her grimoire to a member of the species they hated was unheard of. 

Y/N gave an excuse, saying the witch wasn't close with her family at the time, as if that made it any more believable. "And I was human at the time so, yes, she left it to me because she knew it could come of use one day."

She showed no indication that she was lying, and if her story was real, then her excuses were reasonable. Perhaps if the story were coming from someone else, he would've rolled over and believed it. But this was coming from Marcel's supposed 'best friend,' the woman who so happened to be there the night Hayley was almost attacked, who had his brother so interested in her that he forced him to allow Marcel back into the Quarter all for the sake of a deal. This was coming from the woman who reminded him so much of a ghost from his past.

So, no, Klaus did not believe her.

Elijah, on the other hand, didn't look as vexed. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, thanking her again. Y/N turned around, making plans for another meeting. She didn't look back at Klaus once, but he was staring at her until even after she walked out the gate.

Elijah sighing broke him out of his trance. "Must you be so difficult, Niklaus?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "If you want to turn a blind eye to all of this, then by all means. But this woman is so obviously hiding something." He reached for his scotch, downing the rest of it in one go.

"Niklaus, please-"

He cut him off, "No, Elijah—you can't honestly be telling me that you don't see what I'm seeing. She acts as if she's guilty of something-"

"Innocent until proven guilty."

Klaus scoffed. Elijah's immediate impulse to see the best in everyone could very well one day be his downfall. For some reason, he was defending Y/N, even though they both knew the only reason they really brought her in was because he saw the same things Klaus did.

Klaus shook his head. "She's not who she says she is." This time, Elijah's response didn't come as quick. He only silently maintained his stare. Little did Klaus know, his brother had doubts of his own.

Elijah's response never came. He closed the book on the conversation completely. "Good night, Niklaus." Elijah walked way, patting Klaus' shoulder as he passed him before going up the stairs. The hybrid cursed him in his head. How could he be so stupid, he thought.

He knew you were hiding something. 

And he would make it his personal job to figure out what it was.

FIRST PERSON, PRESENT

I closed my laptop, having just printed out the contract. With Marcel, contracts were never necessary; you would just trust the other person's word. But, in this new society, trust could not be guaranteed. 

I sighed, checking the time. Davina should be home any minute now.

Right on cue, I heard a knock at the door. I furrowed my brows. Didn't I give her a key?

She must have left it her by accident. Not thinking anything of it, I got up, walking to the door absentmindedly. "Hey, Dav-" my words died down in my throat once I opened the door. Standing in front of me wasn't Davina.

It was Klaus.

He coyly smiled. "Hello, Y/N. May I come in?" For a quick second, I was stunned. I wasn't expecting this at all. How did he even know I lived here? I wondered before dismissing the thought. He's Klaus Mikaelson; of course, he knows where I live.

I quickly composed myself, reciprocating his smile, only hoping that mine didn't look as fake as his. I held the door open wider. "Of course." The act of Klaus stepping over the threshold into my home almost made me sick, but I didn't dare show it on my face.

"Lovely home you have here," he said, looking around, but I doubted he was just looking out curiosity, and that compliment felt nothing like a compliment to me. What the fuck is he doing here?

I thanked him, resisting the urge to cross my arms. I learned in the few psych classes I attended that it was a sign of discomfort. I instead tried to make myself less stiff, asking myself how a normal person would act in this situation and then trying to behave that way.

"Would you like something to drink? Water, tea, Brandy....?" 

Klaus shook his head, declining. He still wasn't looking at me, continuing to stare at my house. He seemed to be searching for something, and I had an idea what it was.

Well, he wouldn't find it.

I skipped over the like five other questions I had, asking, "What brings you here?" I kept my voice light, even though he probably knew that I knew what he was doing. I was already gonna be heading over to the compound later where he would've seen me. He had no reason to be here other than to look for some sort of flaw.

Finally, Klaus looked over at me. "Elijah's currently preoccupied, so I told him I'd just come here and get what you were supposed to give to him." Bullshit. But I'd play this game. I've won far harder ones.

I reminded myself of the pact I made to myself when I left the compound yesterday, of everything I've endured over the course of my life. If I went through what I went through, then I could go through speaking to my father.

I faked nonchalance. "Right, the contract. I'll go get that right now." I went to my room, grabbing the stapled pages and Amelia's grimoire out of my bag, ignoring the fact that the hybrid could've done anything in the less than thirty seconds I left him alone. However, when I got back, he seemed to be in exact same spot, waiting patiently for my return. 

"Here," I said, handing them to both to him. He hummed, flipping through the pages—though, I doubt he was reading anything, even though the contents of the folder I just gave him were only drafted in attempts to save his city.

But I didn't have to have known Klaus long to know that this wasn't about saving anything for him. Men like him didn't save; they destroyed, and my mother raised me well enough to make sure I never forgot that.

When he closed the folder, he looked at the grimoire with a serious stare. I would've been worried that he was trying to see past my glamour had I not been as strong as I was. Nobody could see past my illusions other than myself; it's always been that way, and it'll always be that way.

Instead, I could bet he was questioning its authenticity or even my authenticity. The white lie I gave the other night was convincing enough to get me out of the compound, but since Klaus was looking for any reason to support his distrust in me, he obviously still had reservations.

Before I could continue with my train of thought, Klaus looked up at me and abruptly questioned, "Where are you from?" My brows went up. Out of all the things he could've said, that was on my list of least expected.

But I wasn't expecting any of the other things that'd happened in my life since I returned to New Orleans, either.

My first instinct was to respond, why do you ask? but that felt defensive and that was the last thing I wanted to come off as to my father. I told him what I told most people who asked. "A little bit of everywhere, I suppose." I shrugged for effect. "I was travelling at a young age due to conflicts around my family, so I was all over Europe as a child."

The suspicion Klaus so eagerly showed me the other night was tucked away. Instead, he only hummed again, but clearly he didn't believe me; otherwise, he would've left it alone, but I could never be so lucky. 

"And how old are you? If you don't mind my asking," he added, as if he cared about whether not I minded.

I didn't hesitate. "About five hundred years old, give or take."

He hummed in response, adding to my irritation, but I was much better at hiding what I was thinking than he was. Not that he was trying. "Well, I suppose I should've assumed so since the Bennett witches had fled to America around that time period." He stared me dead in the eye, a smug smile on his face but a much more serious look in his eyes. 

He was pretty close to me, close enough that I could see his eyes—and I mean really see them. They were blue with twinges of green and brown that I hadn't seen from far away before. And even though almost nothing scared the crap out of me more than the fact that his eyes looked like mine, I stared right back like I had no fears at all.

"Yeah, that's true," I agreed, but I didn't offer anything further. The only other things I could've added to this conversation to convince him I wasn't lying were facts from my personal life and that was information I wouldn't soon give up. 

I didn't know how well Klaus knew my mother before they conceived me, if he knew her best friend's name or even her own, for that matter. So there were some details I just had to keep to myself; revealing certain things may have had the ability to help me, but they could also hurt me just as easily.

That was a risk I wasn't going to take.

Klaus just kept staring at me, and I almost thought he'd never look away until the door opened. We both turned to see Davina in the doorway, keys in her hand.

Her mouth fell open slightly, eyes darting between me and the Original in our living room. Said Original broke the silence. "Ah, if it isn't the little witch."

I watched Davina swallow but still manage to glare at him. "Klaus."

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, that same "friendly" smile on his face that was anything but. "Relax, love. I come in peace." He then looked back over at me. "I was just leaving." With that, he walked toward the door. Back still turned to me, he uttered a thank you for what I gave him and wished us a wonderful night, patting Davina on the shoulder on his way out.

The teenager barely waited until Klaus was out the door to close it, looking over at me with incredulous eyes. Just as her mouth was about to open, I brought my finger to my lips, silently shushing her and pointing to my ear.

She got the message, exasperatedly sighing and running a hand through her hair while I used my hearing to listen to Klaus walk away. Once I could no longer hear his footsteps, I let my finger fall. Davina instantly let her questions loose.

"What the hell was he doing here? Why'd you let him in- no, how did he get in? What was that stuff he walked out with and why did that book look like a grimoire? Oh my God, does he know that you're a-"

I cut her off, "Davina. Slow down and I'll explain." At my interruption she paused, taking a breath. I couldn't help but be amused at her worry, even though the Devil himself had just been standing in my living room.

Once she was calm, I elaborated, summarizing the deal I'd made with Elijah and then the deal we'd just made with the witches. Although I trusted Davina, I gave her the same story I gave Klaus when it came to the grimoire. There were some things just better kept secret and, for now, Amelia Bennett and my family fell under that category.

After I'd explained everything, Davina nodded to herself, soaking it all in, muttering under her breath, "That must've been what everyone was talking about today, a deal with the Mikaelsons." She pursed her lips. "Yeah, I heard Genevieve and some others whispering something about a Bennett witch, so it must've been that."

I nodded. "Yeah, and as for Klaus being here, I let him in myself. Don't worry; the protections are fine." She finally seemed to calm down after that.

"Okay, I guess I'll just go do my homework now or something. See you, Y/N/N." I ruffled her hair as she walked past me, getting a faux angry pout that didn't last long before a smile started to form on her lips. Like her happiness was contagious, the corners of my lips upturned, too.

It was good to see her happy, busying herself with things like homework. That's what teens should be doing, not hiding away in attics, isolated from humanity. Death shouldn't have even crossed her mind but I knew that, living in the world we lived in, that wasn't an option.

In spite of that, I would do my best to preserve her childhood for as long as I could. There was no one there to do that for me, and I'd be damned if I would just stand by and watch as hers was stolen from her.

Davina meant too much to me to allow that to happen, but even so, there were still things about me that she didn't know. There were things about me that no one knew, no matter how close to me they'd gotten.

No one knew I was Klaus' daughter, no one but Amelia, my mother, and the person who killed her.

At that thought, my mood became sour, but instead of drowning in my own self-pity, I blocked the thoughts completely. I couldn't afford to be in New Orleans with Klaus Mikaelson watching my every move and to also think about that part of my past.

So I pulled out my phone and dialled until Cellie's voice filled my ear, "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, let's go out. We can hit up that new club downtown. And call Cami up, too; we can all go and just have fun."

"Not that I oppose this in anyway, but what brought up this spontaneousness?"

"Nothing," I lied. "I just want to have a night-out on the town. C'mon, Marcel; don't be boring."

He gave in, "Alright, alright, fine. I'll call Cami."

I grinned. "Great; meet at my place." Before he could say anything else, I hung up on him. This was just the sort of thing I needed, to go out like everything was normal.

I rushed to go get ready, pushing all thoughts of Klaus and my past to the back of my mind. For one night, just one, I wanted to feel like myself again.

Ever since I got back to New Orleans, I've felt like this shell of myself. Around the Originals, I felt like little-kid-me. All of these memories and thoughts that I've worked to repress have just been resurfacing, and so, for one night, I just want to feel like myself again. That'll help me get it all together.

I was gonna go out tonight, not as a Mikaelson, but as a Y/L/N.

And after that, I was gonna bury Y/N Mikaelson for good.

Taglist: @scrynexxtins @thisnameistaken1234 @honestlycasualarcade @xlittlestarling @thatgirljas13

[hopefulatrocity]

Snow And Embers

Notes: Uh so I've fallen into my Hunger Games hyperfixation again. This is just something that came to my mind while watching the movie. I needed a refresher from my TWD fic(I have not abandoned that I swear). This leans more heavily to the movie than the books, except for Lucy's eye color, I stuck to the book with that. So spoilers. NOT PROOFREAD. Also, I'm highly of the notion that Coryo did love Lucy but not all love is healthy. His bordered on obsession. And with a tendency for paranoia, it didn't end well.

Pairing: Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow (SnowBaird)

Part 2

CW/TW: Spoilers for BOSAS, darkish thoughts, ideas of claiming/possession, Smut!(18+ breeding kink, creampie, fingering, slight somnophilia, very slight inexperienced Coryo).

The first time Coriolanus and Lucy Gray  became one, it was slow and euphoric. There had been hesitation for him. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he had never been with anyone, romantically or sexually. He'd spent his life worrying about status, money, and academics. With the fragile state of his academic career due to Dean Highbottom's hatred for him, and the ever looming threat of eviction and starvation, even after the Dark Days, he hadn't had the time nor emotional ability to even attempt either. The beautiful rainbow that was Lucy Gray Baird, was the catalyst that changed everything. 

He'd been enchanted by her singing during the Reaping, and initially he thought his interest was simply hope that maybe she could be the key to his family's troubles. That she could be the one to turn his fortune around. Those thoughts turned the moment he watched Lucy Gray pluck a petal from his proffered white rose, and place it on her delicate pink tongue, the two colors contrasting and trapping his gaze. When her lips sealed around the soft sepal, his blue eyes traced the plump flesh, wondering what the skin there tasted like. Would they taste like roses? Or would it be something wholly Lucy Gray? 

He'd had to snap himself out of his trance, scolding himself for falling victim to his brain's carnal desires. He was there to be a mentor. He was there to fix his family's status and finally land on top, just like snow was supposed to. For a while this train of thought had worked. Every time his mind wandered to tanned skin and silky hair colored like the rich dark chocolate from his starvation-induced childhood dreams, he would think back to his interaction with Dean Highbottom, the threats, and the reasoning for why he was interacting with the tribute in the first place. 

It didn't help matters when Lucy Gray had threaded her fingers into his own when they went to view the arena with the other tributes and mentors. Her palm was sweaty, so was his, but the way their fingers fit together perfectly had his heart beating faster than ever before. He'd looked into her eyes and the fear there had him tightening his grip, a measure of reassurance. His inner Capitolite had reared it's head then, warning him about getting too close to her, a district girl. A tribute at that. One likely to die within the next few days. He'd dropped her hand, almost like the soft creases of her palm were instead the fangs of the snakes she so easily mastered. 

Within minutes everything had gone to ruin, the bomb had gone off, flaming rebar fell on top of him, and suddenly he knew he was going to die. He'd called for her, the dust and rubble making his throat and eyes burn. In the haze, he had seen her look towards the exit, she had a chance to escape. Surely this meant she would leave him to be engulfed by the flames on his back. But she hadn't. She had pushed away another tribute who told her to run and had gone to help him. A district girl saving the life of a Capitol boy. It was the kind of propaganda that would have made his grandma'am's heart stop. 

Lucy Gray had saved his life. He had to save hers. So he snuck his mother's poison filled compact to her in dead of night. Through the bars he had poured his heart out, not in words of love or passion but of strategy and advice for winning the games. It was all he could do. When she had leaned forward, her lips seeking his through the bars, he had pulled back in shock. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he couldn't. If he did and she died the next day, he wasn't sure he would survive it. Internally, he promised himself that if Lucy Gray won, he would do everything he could to finally find out what she tasted like. 

And she had won, his tampering with the snakes and the compact being her lifelines. Despite the fallout from his treason, Coriolanus kept his promise to himself. He'd bribed his way to District 12, unsure if he would even be able to find his rainbow songbird. For all he knew, Gaul could have killed her. 

But then he saw her in that bar. Singing so beautifully. When her eyes met his, his heart lept and so did his cock. 

The first time they kissed, it was like the world turned on its axis and nothing else mattered but Lucy Gray. She did taste like roses, fresh and floral. And the softness of her lips balanced the slight roughness of his own. He had to leave her, return to base, but he knew that kiss was just the start of something more. Something powerful. 

Over the next few weeks, anytime he was able to sneak away from his peacekeeper duties, he was with her. Soft touches, handholding, and hugs turned to bruising grips, roving hands, and passionate kisses. Despite his inexperience, Coriolanus felt like a connoisseur of intimacy when he was with Lucy Gray. She had a bit more experience than him, the idea of another man touching his songbird made his stomach turn but he knew it wasn't something that could be changed. She guided him whenever his feelings of inadequacy crept up. She would push his hesitant hands under her skirt, letting his recently calloused fingers graze over the smooth skin of her thighs. Or press her tongue past his lips and tangle it with his own. Each step a domino collapsing and pushing him to move further with her. 

They didn't have sex until the second time they visited the cabin by the lake, that time without the Covey. By some miracle, his unit had been given a weekend of rest and he took advantage of it. As soon as they had stepped into the cabin, their lips had collided and clothes fell to the floor in a trail, leading directly to the one bed in the corner. 

Night had fallen, and the only light was a small oil lantern on the bedside table that he had briefly gotten up to light. The flickering flames danced along the contours of Lucy Gray's naked body and he stared at her sleeping form for hours. He was laying on his side, the thin blanket covering his waist, with one hand propping up his head. The short spikes of his hair tickled his palm and he thought about how Lucy Gray had tried so hard to grasp it. He wished it was longer, he could easily imagine how good it would feel to have her tugging at his long curls. 

Coriolanus’ blue eyes traveled over Lucy Gray's face. Her dark locks where sprawled over the one threadbare pillow, coiled like snakes from the arena. Occasionally her eyelashes would flutter against her cheek and she would sigh. His heart would stop for a moment, both with happiness and fear. Happiness that he would be able to see her warm gray eyes gazing up at him lovingly, but also fear to be losing that moment of retrospection. His eyes moved from her face, down her neck, and to the top of her breasts. The perfect handfuls were covered by the blanket they both shared, as was the rest of her body. She had one hand laying across her stomach, while the other was tucked under her head. 

With a mind of their own, his fingers moved out to lightly stroke the soft skin of her hand. The same ones that had stroked his cock expertly, and had teased their way across his thighs. Needing to see the rest of her, Coriolanus slowly pulled down the blanket until it was laying over her knees. Heat began to pool in his stomach as he saw goosebumps bead on her skin. Her dark nipples peaked in the chilled air and he had to stop himself from running his fingers over the pointed tips. Blue eyes caressed her stomach and moved  over the slight curve of her abdomen that led to the thick patch of curls between her legs. She had one leg bent and the other splayed out, giving him a glimpse of the heat that lay hidden by the soft hair that guarded it. Her dusky folds still glistened, even though it had been hours since he'd been inside her. But his full focus was drawn to the pearl of white that sat at her entrance. A small amount of his cum was still there and it made the animalistic part of him purr. He had cleaned between her legs with his shirt shortly after their coupling, but she was still dripping with him.  A dark part of his mind wondered if it had taken. If he had claimed her fully. 

At the time, they hadn't spoken of contraception. Not that there was much of that available anyways. The Capitol had just barely begun manufacturing any type of birth control again after the war. It was expensive and no one in the districts could afford condoms or anything like that. Even their base commander had told them to be careful during leaves. The last thing they needed was news of Peacekeepers knocking up the district women. It would only bring more rebels to their doors. 

He knew the Covey was adept with herbal remedies but he hoped that they didn't have one for this type of thing. It was shocking to him, as he hadn't spent much time thinking about the possibility of having children. His priorities had revolved mostly around the intertwining of his family's status and his education. But now here he lay, his girl by his side, wondering what it would be like to make her his own. To have his seed plant itself deep inside her. She'd be marked by him, her pregnant belly a sign that she belonged only to him. That coal rat Billy Taupe would finally understand that Lucy Gray Baird was his. No one else would dare look at her. And if they did he had no problems with killing them. 

Coriolanus painted along her skin with the tips of his fingers, gently rasping them over her puckered nipples. He stared at her breasts and wondered how big they would they get. He imagined them swollen with milk, the tips dripping and the flesh overflowing his hands. 

Lucy Gray's stomach was smooth and her hips weren't very wide, but he knew they would adjust to hold his child. The supple skin would become taut and her hips would expand to accommodate their child. Would she get stretch marks? He hoped she did. That way she'd be marked even after giving birth. A beautiful scar to remind her and anyone else who had fully claimed her body. 

Drawn again to the small bead of cum at her entrance, Coriolanus ran his fingers through her lower curls and pressed his seed back inside her warm channel with his pointer finger. A low moan escaped Lucy Gray's lips and she clenched around the thin digit. As if her body was trying to pull his seed back inside her. His chest tightened and he looked up to see if she had woken up. But her eyes were still closed. Good. He wanted a few more minutes to indulge in this fantasy. No.. not fantasy. Plan. The animal inside him refused to forget about this. It had made up its mind. Lucy Gray was his. And her body was destined to carry his child. 

Gently he removed his finger from inside her, the tip brushing against her clit and causing another moan to leave her parted pink lips. If her singing voice was perfection, her moans were solace for him.

Coriolanus lifted his small corner of the blanket and moved his body over hers, his stiff cock brushing her thighs and settling over her public hair. The slight pricking of the coarse hairs across the tip of him was shocking. He had to stop himself from thrusting against her, seeking more friction. His body was still inexperienced, still desperate for any touch. 

His nose brushed hers and his fists caged either side of her face. 

“Lucy Gray….”

The rasp of  his voice saying her name vibrated across her lips. She woke slowly, the look of sleep and pleasure keeping her lids drooping. As soon as she realized what had woken her up, a small smile crossed her face. 

“Coryo.”, she brushed her lips against his. His name sounded like a possession. He didn't want anyone else to say his name. Just like her body belonged to him, his name was hers alone. The twitching of his cock against her slit had her pressing her hips up to tease him. He pushed forward a bit, notching himself at her entrance, her still dripping cunt practically begging him to thrust into her. Lifting one of his hands, he cupped her cheek, and stroked his tumb over the apple tenderly. Her gray eyes latched onto his own, both searching for something unknown in his gaze. 

“Mine,” he whispered it, almost lovingly, but with a note of passion and mastery. A declaration of his possession, daring her to contradict him. 

Lucy Gray nodded her head minutely, and  placed a ghost of a kiss on his chin. Those lips that had bewitched him from the moment he saw them wrapping around that rose petal were soft as silk. Since then he had found that she truly did taste of roses and something smokey, like embers. 

Drunk on his floral scent and the need to be filled, she whispered, “Yours, Coryo.”

Darkness clouded Coriolanus’ light blue eyes and she gasped as he thrust to the hilt inside her. The tip of his cock brushed the entrance to her womb and her channel began to pulse around him. Begging him to fill her. Lucy Gray's body instinctively knew what it needed from him. 

She wasn't fully his. Not yet. But she would be by the end of the night. 

[jupiter-va]

Omg I also never thought of Abby with a gun play thing but now it has me thinking thoughts as well…I need to hear yours!!

Okay I've had a nap and I'm a bit more energized so here we go. These are SFW and NSFW btw (This got long I'm sorry, also, I'm better at dirty talking than I am at writing about sex lol)

✧˖° ‧Abby and her Guns ✧˖°

CW: talks of guns/consensual gunplay, mean!abby, degradation (kinda)

||MDNI

❥I completely agree with the ask I got earlier saying that Abby has sort of a fixation on them. Not in a weird way, she just kinda likes knowing how they work, how each part connects to the other, etc.

❥I'm not much of a gun girly, but I am southern and a lot of people I know have guns so based on my limited knowledge, I think her gun of choice is like a hybrid of a Glock and another pistol, can't recall the name (canonically, it's just called the "Military Pistol" in the game, correct me if I'm wrong but that's what it looks like). But I'm thinking she like's compact pistols for everyday use in general cus they're smaller than a full sized handgun, but they pack a punch and are easy to conceal which is useful for obvious reasons

❥I imagine she keeps them in the best condition she possibly can, of course she does, she needs them almost daily

❥It's one day when she's taking guns apart and cleaning them that you notice just how good she looks doing it. She looks good doing everything, but with this, the look of concentration on her face, combined with how swiftly she takes them apart and puts them back together without fumbling or breaking a sweat. The confidence and precision in her movements is enough to make you squirm and she notices

❥She's quick to break her concentration for the sole purpose of teasing you, asking you to come closer as she rattles off her knowledge about each separate gun to you.

❥She innocently "shows" you the best places to aim for when shooting someone. Slowly dragging an (unloaded) pistol from the waistband of your pants to your midsection, and applying a slight pressure to your stomach with the barrel of the gun

❥She'd notice you squirming/whining and honestly, I think she'd be a little mean about it

"You're sick, you know that baby? Making those pretty sounds for me, all because I've got a gun to your tummy?"

"You do realize how fucked up it is that you're into this, right?"

❥You're more than aware of how fucked up it is, but as she drags the gun from your midsection to your chest up to your neck, until she finally stops, resting the pistol up under your chin, you honestly can't bring yourself to care

❥Someone brought up the idea of Abby fucking you while holding a gun up to your stomach and honestly, whoever it was ate with that, I agree wholeheartedly, however, for the past 20 minutes I've been thinking about her having you get on all fours while having the gun to your back. You can't see it, but you can feel it and you hear the click each time she pulls the trigger and it just ups the sensation you feel by 100

❥Of course, the gun isn't loaded, but that doesn't stop Abby from taking you from behind and dragging the pistol down your back, stopping every so often to pull the trigger. It can't hurt you, but each click of the gun sends chills down your spine in the best way

❥Despite how fucked out and overstimulated you get, it's almost like Abby can't help but to fuck you harder, making sure she drags this out for as long as she can. She loves watching as each click of the gun jolts you back into reality and listening as your now incoherent murmurs grow louder and more desperate with each thrust.

Yeah, this is gonna have to be an audio lol, I have more things I wanna say but I'm much better at articulating them when I'm speaking as if I'm actually in the scenario rather than writing it down.

[myakikijackson]

Riling Up the Dogs

Readers 18+ Only!

Warnings: This one's a little tame but there is some crude language and a wee bit of teasing.

*************************************************************

Four pairs of ravenous brown eyes were unabashedly fixated on you. Impishly smiling to yourself while slowly gathering the contents of your purse. You can feel the heat of their gazes on the curve of your backside just as you could hear them faintly muttering under their breathes.

“Mmmm, that’s nice right there.” Creeper said while shifting in his seat.

“I swear she does this on purpose just to fuck with us.” Angel hissed.

“It’s alright right.” Coco countered as if it had no impact on him. Flippantly taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Alright?” Ez questioned. “Just alright?”

“Yeah I seen better.” He shrugged. He stared down at his cigarette as if he were examining it.

EZ incredulously looking over at his crazy ass friend and smiles briefly at him before turning his attention back to you. “Try saying that again when you’re not salivating.”

“Yeah, that ain’t nothing bro, you know that Lola girl at the strip club, you know the one that come out on stage dancing around with that big ole lollipop, rubbin’ it on her gatita. Now that’s a nice ass.”

“Boy you know you ain’t seen no ass finer than that one right there.” Angel gestures over to the spot where you are on the floor on all fours fumbling with your bag.

With a satisfied smirk upon your face, you tell yourself, ‘It ain’t your fault these men can’t control their little wandering eyes.’ All you’re doing is picking up the items in your bag that had fallen onto the ground. Of course, they had a little help ending up there when you accidentally dropped your bag.

As you bask in your triumph you hear footsteps coming toward you. You stuff your compact mirror into your purse quickly and in your periphery, you see dirty old boots to the right of you. A hand is outstretched to you offering you help back up, you graciously accept it.

“Well, it's nice to know there are still some gentlemen left in this world.” You say loud enough for the four gawkers to hear. They immediately clear their throats and awkwardly shift their gazes making their blatant visual appreciation of your voluptuous curves all the more apparent. Coco just straight up jumped out of his seat and bolted out the door as if a bullet had just blasted right passed him.

You don’t even try to hide your smile.

“Be careful.” The man standing next to you warns. “Stop riling up my boys.” The deep voice says.

You give your best shocked pikachu face you could channel and were about to innocently explain to Bishop that you had no idea what he was talking about when he cut you off with a quick gesture of his hand, one you’d seen him do to the guys many times before when he’s done with bullshit.

“You keep presenting a starving wild dog with a nice juicy steak, eventually he’s going to take a bite. Whatcha gonna do when all four of them wanna bite?”

His words lingered in the air even as he walked away and left you alone to reevaluate your decisions. The tone in his voice was cautionary, unnerving…

You could feel the heat of their stares again, you survey the room and see them all watching you this time no looking away, no feigning, just sheer unbridled desire.

They hadn’t heard what Bishop had told you, but they didn’t need to. They could read your face, your expressions, your body language. They knew you’d been warned, and now pure raw unabashed need marred their faces, even Coco who had walked back inside was now standing by the door leaned up against the wall. His was the rawest stare of them all.

“...keep presenting a starving wild dog with a juicy steak…”

They wanted to take a bite out of you and the thought of all four them devouring you at once was terrifying and sinfully delicious.

Cigarette in his mouth, you slowly fix your eyes on Coco’s, there was a reason why you’ve always minimized eye contact with him or avoided it all together. For you it was something about a man who hides what he feels deeply underneath layers upon layers of bricks, cement, stone and for extra measure titanium, he’s hard to read, you can only guess most times with no certainty, on the rare occasion when drops his walls and allows his feelings or desires to show, its soul shattering.

For him it was months of you refusing to look directly at him. Looking on others, Gilly, Creeper, Bishop, whoever, so easily but denying him, not wanting to glimpse into his eyes for even just one second. But now in this one moment you were looking into his eyes for the first time, and he was going to fucking make you see him.

He shifted his stance like a tiger about to pounce on his prey. Oh, he was ready to take a bite, a big one and no one and nothing was going to stop him. He tossed his half-finished cigarette to with no regard to the floor and stalked to you with a sense of urgency. And you could do nothing but stand there like a deer in headlights. Yeah, this predator was about to take you down and once he did the rest of the pack won’t hesitate to join the feast.

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into him, grabbed your face with both of his deadly hands and kissed you hard.

Creeper and Angel nodded their heads in unison, wearing matching smirks. EZ was following Coco’s hands with his eyes as they reached down to squeeze that nice tight ass that had been the bane of their existence ever since they had the misfortune of meeting you.

“Look at me.” You felt as much as heard years of untapped raw emotion coming through in Coco’s voice. Restrained emotion. You were mesmerized by it, so consumed, so lost in it that you forgot to follow instructions.

A hard slap on the ass from him snapped you out of your little Coco hypnosis.

“I said fucking look at me.” Instantly your head shot up it was as if your body was incapable of disobeying this man. You locked eyes with the deepest, scariest, most passionate brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

“See me.” He whispered so softly that it could have been easily missed but you heard it clear. You nodded and leaned into him, ready to let him take you over, to invade your mind, body and soul be damned, you knew exactly what would happen the moment he’d walked back into the clubhouse. You snaked your arms around his neck kissing him deeply, holding on to him like you were about to fall down into a bottomless pit and his was your only salvation. The only thing you had to hold onto, your only lifeline. You wrapped your leg around his waist, and he backed you up to a table and set you on it.

The other guys were enjoying the show but instantly they saw it for what it was. The way Coco had kissed you, how he’d grabbed you, how you’d kissed him back, how he’d just claimed you in front of all. One by one they each got up and left the room. This wasn’t a four-man job.

********

More Coco? Yes, Please!

[eggs-attorney]

[<<< First] [< Prev]

Eggman: We now convene for the trial of Yanshu Dryll the Mole. I trust the prosecution is ready to commence?

Payne: The prosecution's been ready for days, your honor.

Eggman: And is the defense ready to proceed?

Reiker: Yes, your honor.

Reiker: (Yeah… Ready. No evidence, no alternate theories… Guess I should just pay attention and do my best.)

Payne: Seems the murderer finally gathered enough funds for a private defender. How'd you do it? Kill another robot? Rob a casino?

Eggman: Actually, this man is our new public defender. This will be his first case.

Payne: Oh, how precious… I bet he'll be running out of town with his tail feathers between his legs after we confirm the guilty verdict.

Reiker: (… Is he serious?)

Eggman: We’ll see, now… Let's not keep this waiting any longer than we already have. Prosecutor Payne, your opening statement?

Payne: The solution to this case is so obvious that no private defense attorney would even pick up the case! In fact, I almost feel sorry for the poor sap standing across from me.

Reiker: Can we get on with it instead of gloating?

Payne: So eager to face your own demise? Very well, then…

Payne: The crime took place around 8:45 PM last Wednesday. The victim, Flash Driver, is a new member of the doctor’s E-5000 line.

Payne: The victim was found with his legs battered and multiple components taken out of their rear hatch. We cannot obtain camera footage due to the parts being missing, however, we have multiple reasons to believe it was the mole standing before us today.

Reiker: Wait, his legs were battered?

Eggman: This is basic information, did you not read the autopsy report!?

Reiker: With all due respect, you never gave me the autopsy report, your honor.

Eggman: Hm… I suppose in this instance your ill-preparedness is somewhat understandable. Don't let it happen again.

Payne: Feh. Here, fledgling - your first piece of evidence. Please try to keep your gape-mouthed self from drooling all over the pages.

Strait: … I think I’ll be fine, thanks.

Autopsy Report (Flash) has been added to the Court Record.

Reiker: (I should take a closer look at that. Remember, Strait - evidence is a lawyer's best friend! Good thing I keep it Pinned at the Top of my mind!)

Reiker: I notice you haven't mentioned a motive, or why my client is your prime suspect. Was she even near the crime scene at the time of the murder?

Payne: Listen, kid, I have this case down tight. Your defendant there is one of 10 people who could have possibly committed the crime at hand.

Reiker: … One of 10? How do you figure?

Payne: Let's just call them the tools of the trade. Specifically, the tool set a Robo-Tech like her uses daily.

Eggman: Ah, you must be referring to the Omnitools, no?

Reiker: Omnitools?

Eggman: You're familiar with the concept of an army knife, correct? Imagine a compact device like that, equipped with every screwdriver, wrench, and key needed to access all the technical parts of my machines, including Robians. This one is assigned to her.

Yanshu's Omnitool has been added to Court Record.

Payne: No one could have accessed the stolen parts without those tools, not to mention that Yanshu was the last person to meet with the victim, during a routine maintenance checkup…

That was anything but routine!

Eggman: Uh... Interesting. In what way was it not routine?

Payne: Well, the perpetrator is right here. Why don't we ask her? Miss, let's start with your name and occupation.

Yanshu: Eep! I, um… M-… My name is Yanshu Dryll. I'm a Class C Robo-Tech, f-for the Main Division…

Payne: And if I'm correct, you assisted the victim…

On the day of the murder!?

Yanshu: W-well, yes, but that doesn't mean I killed him!

Eggman: The court will be the judge of that. Now, if you could please testify regarding this maintenance appointment you had.

Yanshu: Y-yes doctor- I mean, sir! I mean-… Y-yes, your honor!

Testimony 1 - The Maintenance Appointment

1:) I had been assigned to Flash to do a routine checkup, scheduled for Wednesday at noon.

2:) All the required checks were proceeding as normal, and the appointment was rather short.

3:) My boss came by and signed off on my maintenance sheet…

4:) … And shortly after that, Flash left, just like he usually does. That was the last time I saw him.

Reiker: (Hm… Not much to work with... At least that old cat has just as little information as I do.)

Reiker: (But if that’s really the case, why does he look so confident…?)

Payne: … Really? That's all you have to say?

Yanshu: Y-yes, and it’s the truth! Wh-… What more could you want?

Eggman: I will kindly ask the prosecution to not badger the witness. Now, defense, are you ready for the cross examination?

Reiker: (I need more information… Just gotta dive into the old Thought Pool and figure out what to ask. Maybe I'll glean some new information! Once I think I've got it down pat, I can Present an idea by connecting a Statement with an Item in the Court Record!)

[Next >]

[eruditegeek]

How can I goth up my look fast and easy?

Are there anymore cool droids like the navigator from the solo movie?

Whats the canon reason the clone troopers can't aim for shit?

Wtf is the Kessel run? I've heard mixed things about it and none of them have made sense

If warp drives are so compact why aren't there drive torpedoes? (visa vi new trilogy warp attack by that purple haired girl boss)

Whats the dumbest canon things? (In the vein of coke being a real drink)

More black, scowl, and add skulls or spikes.

There are lots of cool droids in Star Wars, but none quite like L3. Did you know that she started her life as a typical astromech, but she modified and upgraded herself the first opportunity she got. Immediately after, she became an expert on every legal case that had ever happened on droid rights. One of her nicknames is the name of a legends robot that traveled with Lando, who was masc. (Trans?) And after being uploaded to the falcon, she joined two other previously uploaded droids to form the millenium collective. A system of the three different personalities sharing control of the Falcon. (Plural Falcon confirmed)

I don't think there is an existing canon explanation. Though they are pretty accurate usually, but then sometimes they're not. (For plot reasons) I could argue that it's a side effect of the genetic tinkering they did to make the Jango genes more obedient and cooperative. Or maybe it's just that some clones are bad shots. There is a genetic variation among the modified clones so that they all come out a bit different. Usually, this doesn't matter, but about 3.5% of each batch had "unacceptable" variations. Before the Jedi became aware of the clones, they would have been terminated as failed products, but the Jedi saw life and made sure every clone had a place somewhere.

The Kessel run is a smugglers route for transporting drugs. You pick them up at kessel and travel the 20 parsec route to your destination. It isn't a straight line, though. Han cut a lot of corners to make it down to 12.

Hyperspace missiles?

Something as dumb as canon coke is really hard, but I'd say it's how they treat materials like paper, glass, and such. Glass had become a luxury good only used by the rich for aesthetic purposes. So Transparisteel is what you are almost certainly looking at when it looks like glass. Which is a completely clear metal alloy? Crazy right? Well, paper was a luxury good during the High Republic, and by the age of the Empire, it became almost unheard of. Almost completely replaced by digital formats. Though the rare instance you didn't want to use a datapad, you could use flimsiplast or durasheet. Two materials that are not paper even though they have almost all the qualities of paper. They do use plastic, though. We know this because they make coke bottles out of it.

[mistfallengw2]

Slowly losing my mind as I finally try to figure out the timeline of Aurelia's hairstyles, and cursing myself for giving her braids in the first place.

Few notes to expand old ones and older ones:

- In the Legions, efficiency beat style, so she kept her mane short outside of the year and a half that she spent recovering from a mission, being pregnant and then nursing Adamas (they weren't in battles anyway, due to Ardea needing that long to fully recover). Little braid was first made by baby Adamas, and it stuck for sentimental reasons. - She stays 4 years in the Mists (Tyria time, she has no way to know how much time passed for her) and her mane grows out while she's in the Fractal, having a grand ol' time with the corruption from [redacted]. Back in Tyria she shaves the whole matted mess off, but keeps the braid. - Keeps it short in the Vigil, but attempts at hair-care are few and far between as Pact Commander in Orr, so it grows. She wanted to cut it after their victory, but eh, might as well keep it since Adamas and Ellara insist it's a good look on the Commander. - Starting s2 she begins to braid it/others do so for her (think mane styling for horses) as it keeps growing. Usually simple styles she can quickly do on her own or last long enough, mainly ones that keep her mane compact and out of places where it can get stuck/dirty, though on big occasions she is convinced to (let someone else) do something more elaborated or even decorated. - As it grows longer and downtime lessens due to s3 events, she starts braiding it in less and bigger braids, till it becomes a big one by early PoF. - Balthazar is a shitty hairdresser, but most of her mane is saved. The little braid is severely damaged, but it gets salvaged using a lock out of Adamas's mane as extensions. She asks for it to be tied back (around her horn and into the rest of the mane) for safety, since she will have to fight Balthazar again and doesn't want a repeat. - Aurene getting stronger boosts her powers, which includes her already prodigious regeneration... and a boost to her mane's growth (horns can't regrow, but they get replaced with crystals). By IBS she has the fullest healthiest mane she ever had, it even shines like never before! - She was not in the mood of dealing with haircuts and was told it'd be good for her image at the Rally, then it was comfy while dealing with the icy weather. After becoming finally official with Ellara, she actually asks her to take care of her mane for her (instead of waiting for her to offer help with it), and the volume gets regularly reduced to a manageable level. Sometimes she even lets Ellara braid it all fancy for no particular reason. - Not pictured, but when the little braid is long enough, she can easily tuck it behind her side horn to keep it out of the way.

[silverskull]

Between the promo and the interviews, there are clear hints that something is going to happen with Chenford in 7x06. What do you think will happen?? (And what do you hope will happen?)

EEEEEE

Such a good question...

So good, in fact, that I've typed an unexpected essay on my phone screen and had to hide it below the cut to save your dashes! 😘

Okay, I would love for something to have happened in 705 that leads Lucy to say "we shouldn't" - the implication being that "we shouldn't again". And I would also love if it happened again in 706 anyway...

Obviously not in a way that either of the characters regrets, but the actors have been talking up "messy chenford", and that's where my mind goes with that phrase. I wouldn't mind them facing the "basic biology" of their attraction, the eternal pull they have to one another, and just giving in to the desire this time, like they almost did in 501.

I'd love them to realise then that they can't deny how intertwined they are, and how impossible it is for them to leave the other behind. How they've come to be the most important people in each other's lives, and there's no way out (and that that's not a bad thing either).

With that revelation, I'd love them to sit down and hash things out properly. I'm not majorly in the "chenford are bad at communicating" camp. Personally, I like things spelled out, but I also love when you know a person so well that their gestures, intonations and reactions are as vital a part of your intimate communication as plain words. My feeling is that we've literally seen this pointed out on screen to us over and over again with chenford. They don't always need big words.

After S6b, they do need to talk though. I think Tim needs to take responsibility for his knee-jerk reaction to the S6 nonsense. I don't really feel like Lucy has any apologising to do, but - like my girl Chastity pointed out - UC is scary, and I think she may be deflecting her own intuition about that onto Tim. BUT I think she needs to experience a proper long term UC op before she makes that decision, OR fall in love with another branch of policing. I love that she's making the effort to prioritise her career goals this season (and her lack of progression thus far has - imho - nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Production Decisions 👀). I don't feel like having personal life happiness should interfere with her career opportunities, though. Or maybe that's just my very content European work-life balance speaking.

As to what I think will happen...

Well, it's not the chenford show. On our very best episode (501) we got just under half the episode with chenford front and centre. Usually a chenford-centric episode clocks in at about 14 minutes (about 30% of the screen time). We already know there's a whole lot going on with ALL the characters this season (and I'm HERE FOR IT!) so to have everything I've mentioned above fit in by mid season is... a stretch. Not completely unlikely, but at best it would be compacted.

As fans, we are fantastic at fixing plot holes, and making sense of skewey timelines, and reasoning out unreasonable production changes. Sometimes I totally buy into these, other times I just can't. I still feel like we missed something important in 508 between "He's just not..." and "If we do this". I've had endless chats with friends about it, but I haven't found a theory that I like yet. I feel either something was cut, or something was left out, and, despite how wonderful all the theories are, none of them have stuck with me.

I think we could end up in a similar situation with this "grown up conversation" that fans are hoping for. It'll be foreshortened, unfulfilling, or very quick. Something will be missed. Some fans will be tremendously unhappy, others will be delighted to be over the breakup, and the rest will either find a way to carry on or be eternally bitter with the gaping plot hole.

For me, I don't want to have my happy thing ruined. If they skip over it fast, but find their way back together, I will be happy. If they take their time and grow closer before getting back together, I'll be ecstatic. If they jump into bed, do some walks and talks of shame, then find their way back together, I'll be kicking my heels with delight.

I felt so let down by S6b. And the fandom crashed and burned at the same time. It's been difficult to find the joy out here in the midst of all that (especially with months of endless waiting on our hands). I love having the show back. The regularity and the week-long chats and dissections. The anticipation of a new promo (and less non-committal EW side-hustle soundbites!) The drip feed of GIFs and art (and for me, hopefully, eventually, a return to reading and writing fic for the love of it again).

I feel like trusting the show again. The few bits of interviews I've read from production give me hope that they're not actually going to play us. The social media team may be trying desperately to capitalise on Jenna and Nathan's huge individual fan bases, but the production team know that chenford is an enormous part of the heart and draw of the show. I'm optimistic that we won't have love triangles or surprise babies or any other shitty cop-outs, and I think that's already a major difference between this ship and so many others in the same genre.

So, as long as they keep the love, care and respect we know they have (deep down!) for these characters, and Lucy and Tim continue to forge their own path back together, I'm happy to see where it goes.

And, sometimes, a repeated hint of spice (706, how are ya) is all the clue we need to keep the hope alive. 🕯️

[mjolnirswriststrap]

PICKPOCKET

Yelena x F!Reader Masterlist

Word Count: 3,884

Summary: A taxi, an interview, a drink, and then an attempted abduction.

Warnings: fluff, it gets dark for like two seconds, a family of pickpockets, whoop whoop that’s the sound of da police.

The bustling streets of Cleveland were no match for someone 10 minutes late to an interview. This was your fifth job lined up this week, and you tanked the other four. You had no luck when it came to these things, and no one wants to hire someone without experience.

You have two weeks to figure something out, or else your landlord is kicking you from your tiny studio. It’s above a Chinese restaurant, so the smell and heat alone are not worth what she’s charging in rent. You know you don’t have any other options.

You find the corner you told the taxi to meet you at, but it is nowhere to be seen. You wait, no so patiently, biting the remnants of fingernails you have left. Like you said, you have no luck. You see the car stop at the red light across the intersection, and hope this driver doesn’t mind speeding.

You walk to the curb, raising your arm to hail the cab down. A blonde woman walks up in front of you, throwing her arm up walking backwards to match your stance. You have no clue what she’s doing; this taxi belongs to you.

“Excuse me?” You say, nudging past her to reach the car door faster. Her reflexes outmatch yours by a mile, she opens the door, sliding in. “I just thought, we share yeah?”

You stand holding the door open, looking side to side in disbelief. She can’t be serious. “Listen lady, I have an interview I’m already late for, I can’t do this today.” You plead.

You lean down to see the woman talking to the driver through the plexiglass. There’s no time to argue anymore. You slide into the black leather seat, slamming the door. “Me first.” You roll your eyes, jutting out the address of your destination.

The driver peels away, you take a chance to relax. Practiced questions go through your mind. You can’t mess this job up, you options were exhausted. You wipe your eyes, trying to ease the throbbing stress behind them. You pull your fingers away to see them covered in black streaks. Your eyes widen, you forgot you’re wearing makeup.

You grab your purse from beside you, searching for your bedazzled compact mirror. All of the contents of your bag were strewn across your lap, it’s gone. You throw your head back, grunting through your teeth. “What’s wrong?” Your co-passenger asks. You look over to her, the reason evident on your face.

“My mascara.” You say defeated. You know you must look like a pouting child to the woman. Her dark eyes give you pity, and her bottom lip puffs out. “Oh sweetie. I’ll help you.” She pulls a complimentary taxi tissue from the box between you. Wrapping it around her finger she test swipes under your eye.

You’re frozen in place, she’s absolutely gorgeous. You were too fogged by anger to even get a good look at her. If it wasn’t for her telling accent, you’d know she was foreign based on looks. No one from around here looked like her.

She reached forward with her other hand gently holding onto your chin; when a bump cause her fingers to run across your lips. Her eyes are focused on yours, meticulously wiping away the black lacquer. She pulls her tissued hand away, you think she’s finished. “How do I thank you?” You attempt to smile, she’s still holding your chin.

“Not finished.” She drops the tissue and licks her thumb, your eyebrows raise as she wipes just under your lip. “Lipstick.” She says casually, opting to wipe her finger on her shirt sleeve and not the tissue. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thank you.” You’re too embarrassed now to attempt a conversation.

“No need to thank me, I do it gladly for a pretty woman like you.” You laugh out loud, you were the runt of the litter compared to her. “You don’t have to say that.” You say, letting your hair fall in your face. How did you go from hating this woman for making you later; to wanting her to kiss you?

“That will be 12 dollars.” The driver breaks you out of the daze she put you in. You nod your head, fishing for your debit card. The blonde woman reaches past you, taping to pay on his card reader. “Go crush that interview, pretty woman.” She says, reaching past you again to open your door.

You’re speechless as she shoos you out of the cab. You turn to look at the office building behind you and the taxis already gone. You didn’t even get her name. You kick yourself as you walk into the building, the woman more present on your mind than the interview.

————————————————————————

That’s all it took, the woman’s face consuming your every thought. You didn’t overthink the questions the manager asked. You literally couldn’t, too preoccupied with the way the corners of her lips curled up. You smiled as you looked over your new work schedule. You knew you could do it, god, you’re so happy you could kiss that stranger in the back of the taxi.

You walk out of the building, eyes in a crescent shape, your smile touching each ear. “How did it go?” Your head jerks to the side and your smile instantly fades. What was once a meet cute is now an almost stalker situation. “What are you doing here?” You say, stopping in your tracks. No matter how attractive a person is, you always have your guard up.

She throws her hands up “Hey, no need to act that way. I just felt too invested to not know. So?” She says, not ashamed of her actions, fully expecting you to answer her. “I uh, I got the job.” You can’t help but to smile at your little victory.

“Sounds like we need to celebrate.” She says, pulling her phone from her pocket, searching for bars nearby. You find yourself raising your brows at the stranger yet again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t really hang out with strangers, who invaded my taxi.” You say, regretting turning her down.

She nods her head, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. “You know, I just thought you owe me.” She steps closer to you, entering your personal space. “You won’t get a drink with me but you’ll let me pay your fair?” You look up to meet her eyes, they have a deviance to them. “You did that before I had the chance.” You almost shy away from her, but then she’s telling you her name. “I’m Yelena, and you’re Y/N?”

“How do you know my name?” You say, anxiety coming back. “When he dropped me off, that’s what he called me.” She nods over to the taxi, idle on the curb. “So, can I buy you a drink for being a good girl and getting the job, or not?” Your cheeks blush, no one had ever called you a good girl before.

“One drink.” You say, trying to play off all the emotions flowing through you. “Yay, that’s what I like to see.” She says, grabbing your hand to pull you to the taxi. Her hand was warm, and strong, you don’t know if she saw it the way you did, but it had you gushing yet again.

“Three blocks down, take a right.” She says to the driver, undoubtedly happy to have so much business from you two. “I appreciate whatever interest you have in me, but what’s going on in your life that you can just minorly stalk a stranger?” You say, needing to know more about the mysterious woman.

She smiles at you, “I was bored.”. Hard to believe she had nothing better to do. “So you invaded my taxi for fun?” She shakes her head, “I came back, for fun.” She looks out the window and knocks on the glass “We’re here. Don’t wait up.”

You jump out of the car and wait on her to pay. What a gentleman you giggle to yourself. “Come with me.” She doesn’t reach for your hand this time. Instead she strides in front of you, swinging open the door to the little pub. “My mother works here, so free drinks.” She nods you in.

Can this day get any better you laugh to yourself. Now she grabs your hand and pulls you to the bar. “Mama, this is Y/N.” She yells over the drunk hum of the pub. Her mother looked too young to actually be her mother. They shared no resemblance at all. “Hello Y/N, I’m Melina.” She reaches out to shake your hand, but before she can, Yelena interrupts “Not her, Mama.” She says giver her mother a stern look.

Melina just blinks at her, giving you no indication on what she meant. She still reaches forward and shakes your hand, “It’s nice to meet one of Yelena’s friends.” She says.

“I wouldn’t go that far but.” You say, poking fun at you two being complete strangers. “We’re not friends.” Yelena says, clarifying that whatever this was, wasn’t friendly.

“Good to know.” You say, ordering a beer from her mom. Yelena sits on the stool beside you, speaking up when her mother walks away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You take a swig of the beer that was at in front of you. “I didn’t take it any certain way.”. Yelena just looks at you, picking up her beer. “I like you more than that.” She takes a sip, looking away from you. So she was interested.

“So, Yelena, what else do you do besides pester strangers?” You flirt with her, picking at your nails and avoiding eye contact.

She grabs your hand, running her thumb across the peeled skin. “I like meeting new people, it’s not a crime.” You nod your head, letting her play with your fingers. “I’m kind of in my family business.” She says, not letting on to any more information.

“And what would that be? You can’t bring me to your moms bar and act coy now.” She downs the rest of her beer, looking over at you as the last few drops fall from the glass. “You wanna see the family business?” She stands, waving over her mother.

You nod, jumping off your stool. “I’ll see you at home Mama.” “You girls be safe, don’t hurt anyone!” You laugh out loud, not knowing how serious she was being. She starts walking down the sidewalk with you in tow. “Where are we going?” You say, bumping into a man that split Yelena and you apart. You roll your eyes, looking ahead to see Yelena picking up a woman’s purse for her. How caring, you think.

She walks beside you, looping her arm in yours. “To my house.” She says, stopping to smell fresh flowers at a kiosk. “First I meet your mom, now you’re taking me home. What did I do to deserve this?” You laugh.

She makes a quick turn down an alley, dragging you along. “It’s only weird if you make it weird.” She makes a great point. “This is me.” She says, opening a metal back door. “Nat, I’m Home.” She yells out, slinging down her bag.

“You’re home early.” A red head comes hopping down the stairs. She was just as beautiful as Yelena. Too gorgeous to be from around here. “Who’s this?” She says, aiming her attention towards you.

“I’m Y/N.” You give her a small wave, sheepishly standing behind Yelena. She smiles, mumbling to Yelena about needing to pay the water bill. “I’ll get it as soon as I can, it’s been a slow day.”

“Not slow, you’ve been preoccupied.” Nat bites back. Yelena groans “Let’s do this later, please.” She begs, not wanting to to make her company suffer through sisters arguing.

Nat turns around, ascending the stairs. “I thought you meant your business was out of your home, it looks pretty normal in here.” You say still in the dark.

“It is.” She points to the 70 inch tv behind her. You take a better look around and notice brand new appliances in the dilapidated kitchen. There were holes in the couch cover, but a MacBook was sitting on the coffee table. Your eyebrows furrow, “Not to be rude, but it kind of seems like your priorities are out of line. If the water bill needs paid, why own a Mac?” You might have overstepped.

“I’m trying to jailbreak it, it’s not ours.” She says, understanding your confused position. “Oh.” You say, still not understanding.

Yelena walks to the living room, sitting on the couch. “Wanna watch something?” She says, scrolling through Netflix. You accompany her, squeezing in on the love seat. “Of course, i didn’t have plans or anything.” You say sarcastically. This beautiful stranger could keep you here for days and you wouldn’t even notice that time past.

“I got you something.” She says, finally picking a movie. “How is that even possible, we met less than two hours ago.” She hadn’t been out of your sight since the interview. She pulls a tiny gold chain bracelet from her pocket. “I can’t accept that.” You say, feeling instant guilt that she spent money on you.

“It’s nothing, really.” She says, clasping it around your wrist. “I found it.”. You ogle the shining gold, you’d never owned anything like this. “How do I thank you?” You say, turning towards her in your seat. “Don’t, it’s nothing.” She assures you.

You look at your wrist to admire your new bracelet and see the time staring back at you. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.” You say, gathering yourself to leave. “Right.” Yelena says sadly, not letting you see the way her eyes hardened.

You take out a ripped piece of an envelope from your purse and quickly jot down your phone number. You lean over the couch, holding the paper beside her face, due to her keeping her back to you. “Call me.” You say, waiting for her to take the paper. She turns to give you a tight lipped smile and gently snatches the paper from you, throwing it down on the coffee table.

You wonder what changed, one second she’s gushing over you, now she’s acting like you really are a stranger. Walking out of the back alley door, you close it without another word. That was weird, you think to yourself as you make your way towards the smell of home.

______________________________________

You smile as you walk up to a neon red dragon. A bell jingles when you enter, alerting Kevin that someone was here. “I’ll be right with you!” He has his back to you while on the phone, probably taking an order. “It’s just me Kev.” He turns around and gives you a smile, rolling his eyes pointing at the phone. You laugh, he always tells you about horrible customers.

The phone claps on the hook and he turns toward the counter. “You look like your day was worse than mine.” He says, packing a brown paper bag with white containers. You shake your head no. “It was just random. First this woman tries to steal my taxi,”. He raises an eyebrow at you. “Right! Dude I was so pissed. But something else happened that kind of made up for the bad start.” He places the packed bag under the heat lamps. “SPILL IT!” He says, wiping down the counter in front of you.

“I got the job!” You squeal, no one was in the restaurant or else you would’ve been scolded by Kevin’s dad. “Girl, I am so happy for you, now you can tell Mrs. Jones to suck it. You’re not going anywhere.” She was the restaurants landlord too. Kevin’s Dad had many problems with her in the past, but he always figured it out, he told you that you would figure it out too.

“Hopefully, just keep your fingers crossed that everything works out.” You say to him, a customer walks in and Kevin switches his attention. You phone dings and you pull it from your pocket.

Unknown: sorry about earlier, I wanna see you again.

You stare down at the screen, maybe she didn’t have a change of heart. Kevin walks back up to you, his apron gone and the kitchen lights off. Typing out a quick reply you stand from your stool. “Who you texting?” He says, curious.

“No one, just the woman from the taxi…” you say, hoping he doesn’t catch on. “And why would you be texting her?” He ushers you out of the store, locking up for the night.

“We might have gotten a drink after the interview. And I might have went back to her house.” You look at your feet, far too ashamed to face your friend.

“Okay, where do I even begin? Are you crazy?” Kevin says, grabbing your arm, stopping you from turning down the alley to your door. “Hear me out.” You laugh, trying to play off the severity of it.

Kevin crosses him arms, “Please, explain why you threw caution to the wind and went on a rendezvous with a possible murderer. I’m listening.”.

“First of all, she’s not a murderer. Secondly, she’s hot.” You say, finally making the short walk to your door. You unlock it and look behind you. Kevin shakes his head in disapproval, “Just, promise to be safer next time?” He asks, pressing a button on his key that makes a loud beeping sound. The headlights of his car flickered against the side of the building.

“Yeah, yeah, promises, promises. Get home safe.” You wave him off as you walk into your stairway entry. Climbing the stairs in the dark. You reach the top to see your front door cracked open, a light coming from inside.

You’re sure you locked both doors before you left. You slowly step into the small studio, you’re facing the open bathroom door when you enter. No one was in there, unless they’re hiding behind your clear shower curtain. You step out from behind the door to see someone sitting in your chair, facing the window.

Without thinking you shout out, “What are you doing in my house?”. If you could slap yourself right now, you would. You constantly say the wrong thing, and here you were being slightly too nice to an intruder. They turn the chair around and every hair on your body stands.

“Yelena?” You say, terror showing in your eyes. She just sits there. “How do you know where I live? Why are you here? Did you break into my house?” You take a step back, not wanting to believe it.

“I had to, you gave me no other choice. Running away like that earlier.” She ignores your other questions. You scoff, “I wasn’t running away. It got late, besides I don’t really have to explain myself to you.” Your hand reaches in your pocket, grasping your phone.

You know you should’ve called the police as soon as you seen the door open. But you just can’t help yourself. Yelena noticed your hand gripping something. “I think you might have mistaken my kindness.” She says. A chill runs down the back of your spine, “What? This?” You take the golden chain from your wrist, and throw it to her lap.

She wraps it around her fingers, smiling. “You should feel lucky, I don’t take every girl to meet my mom.” She says, standing up and walking towards you. You take another step before your back hits the wall. You look to your right, the dark stairs were your only exit. Before you could react she was slamming the door on your foot.

You scream out in pain and try to pry the door off your foot. Yelena steps closer to you now that you’re trapped. “You’re a psycho!” You yell in her face. Kevin was right, the woman from the taxi is a murderer.

“Why do you make things so hard for yourself, huh?” She caresses your cheek and you push her hand away. “See?” She tuts.

She opens the door and you jerk your foot free. You lung toward your kitchenette. A knife block sat at the edge of your counter. Maybe if you had a knife she’d leave. Before you could take a step she trips you, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back. She leads you to your bed.

You don’t fight back in fear of her breaking your arm. You know you can’t scream. Kevin was the last one out down stairs. The carpet store next door was closed because the owners were on vacation. You’re forced to sit down on the edge of it. She doesn’t let go of your arm and stands in front of you. “What do you want?”.

Tears start to form in your eyes. Yelena juts out her bottom lip and runs her hand over your hair, “Don’t cry baby girl, I don’t want to hurt you.” She coos.

You roll your eyes “then what?” You can’t play along for much longer before you really try to escape. “Natasha says I’m not good with rejection.” She says, inspecting the threads on your shirt.

You feel something in your heart, like it broke a little bit for her, how could she possibly think you rejected her. “I would never reject you, look at you.” You say, pleading for this to end. It almost hurt your feelings being in her presence reminded you how Neanderthal you were compared to her.

“Then why did you leave?” She says, acting like she has all the answers. “You left to go sit in an empty Chinese restaurant.” She says, looking at her feet, now not feeling so confident, she thought she wasn’t as important as fortune cookies and low mein.

“Kevin closes up alone every night, what kind of friend would I be if I let him do that? There’s safety in numbers, that is all, I promise. I would’ve stayed if it wasn’t for that.” You explain yourself to her, just like you said you didn’t have to do.

You find yourself feeling guilty, like this was all a misunderstanding. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I was running away from you.” You look up into her eyes, “let’s just forget all this, okay?” You say, desperately needing her to remove the pressure from your arm.

“I don’t think I can do that. What’s stopping you from turning me in for breaking and entering? What’s stopping you from pressing charges?” She says, thinking over her options.

The words spill from your mouth before you have a chance to stop them “Why would I call the cops on my girlfriend? That’s not very nice.” You say, playing along with her psycho antics. You force a smile, even though your arm was on fire.

Yelena searches your eyes for sincerity, she must have found some, since she releases you arm and massages your shoulder. “Sorry about that.” She says, sitting beside you on the bed.

You nod, rubbing your nervous hands on your knees. “Girlfriend huh?” Yelena teases. You look over to her, wondering if she’s serious. “Break into my house and subdue me huh?”.

[mullermilkshake]

Twelve days of fluffmas

On the ninth day of fluffmas, my true love gave to me...

Yakuza!Choso and Yakuza!Yuji giving the brotherly love we all need.

Day ten

Tags: Yakuza AU, Yakuza!Megumi, brotherly bonds, fem!reader insert kinda, snowballs.

"Did you want to come over and watch a movie?"

That had to mean something, right?

Choso couldn't gauge the tone of your voice enough through the payphone on the corner of the street and couldn't think of how to respond to your question.

So his mouth did it for him. "I'd like that."

"Great, you have my address right?"

Of course he had it. It was tucked away neatly and incredibly safely in his wallet. The torn little scrap piece of paper already so creased on its edges he feared that it would fall apart.

Your handwriting was just so pretty that he often looked at it. Yet after all this wistful thinking, he never once actually thought you might invite him over so soon. So casually too.

"Uh, yeah. I have it," he fiddled with there piece of paper between his fingers, being aptly casual though internally he was shutting down.

It had to mean something, right?

What that something was, he hadn't the faintest idea.

"Great. Can you come over tonight? I have a few things I need to do this afternoon."

Tonight? Like, as in night time? The Adam's apple in his throat grew sticky which made him acutely aware of what sort of things happened at night with two people watching movies.

Movies. He hadn't watched a load of movies, but Choso knew someone who did.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Great!" the enthusiasm in your voice never settled his nerves. "I'll see you then, bye!"

Where would he be now? Choso thought hard and wondered where the person who knew most about movies would be.

With that friend of his no doubt at the arcade a little ways away, though Choso preferred the arcade nearest to him. They had the best prizes in the claw machines.

As he made his way down, anxiously looking about because he did not know what to do with himself. The trudging anxiety of his footprints in the collecting snow in the street side crunched and compacted uncomfortably under his shoes.

For Choso had no clue what to do.

"Come on... You got this. You got this- let's go!"

"I can't concentrate with you in my ear Yuji, settle down."

Yuji Itadori was Choso's brother. He was also the most qualified person Choso knew that might be able to point him in the right direction. That he was freaking out for no reason.

Megumi Fushiguro was his friend though Choso never spent much time with the kid himself.

"Brother," Choso said and captured his attention being hunched over by Megumi's shoulder watching the little yellow ball chomping about the screen.

"Hey, Choso, how's it goin'?"

"I uh... I kind of need help with something."

Yuji stepped away from Megumi who was totally immersed in the glowing screen that would inevitably make his eyes go square. Choso's brother approached him and must have instantly picked up on the atmosphere.

"What's wrong?"

Megumi turned his head too, letting the screen fade and switch to the game over screen. The blinks of light and weird popping noises that often soothed Choso, now put him on edge.

"Can we talk outside?"

"Sure, wanna head to the children's park? We can sit on the swings like we used to," Yuji nodded ahead and made his move before Choso could even answer. Megumi followed him.

The children's park was one of many littered around the district, barely used and some even abandoned and vandalised. Still, they were perfect to let off steam and step out of the way of prying eyes.

But really, Yuji just enjoyed messing about there. Choso was surprised that Megumi even agreed to go. Being most of the time they ever stepped foot in the children's park, which was still a rare occurrence, the kid just sat off the the side with his arms folded and a moody expression over his face.

"So what's up?" Yuji slumped on to the left swing and kicked his feet.

"The girl I'm seeing. She asked if I wanted to see a movie... at her place. And I have no clue what it actually means."

"It means she wants to watch a movie, what else? Oh! You should watch a horror film or something- maybe an action movie, they're awesome," he pushed harder and swung right past Choso who remained still.

Then, a snowball flew through the air and barely missed Yuji's head. "It probably means she likes him for real real..You're really oblivious, aren't you?"

Megumi hadn't moved from the spot but his hands were all covered in snow from the park floor.

Did you really really like him? Was that true?

Yuji screwed his face up and pointed at his friend. "That almost hit my head! If you wanna declare war, do it with grace, man!"

"I'll do It with grace when you aren't so brand new," Megumi formed more snow in his hands and turned his attention to Choso. "It probably means she likes you or just wants to spend time. Don't read too much into it, and don't listen this idiot."

Choso had five years on his brother and his friend and was totally oblivious. How embarasssing that he even thought to come to his younger brother like he could actually give sound advice to this sort of thing.

I'm such an idiot.

At his age, he'd been with plenty women in bars and clubs as soon as he hit eighteen, yet none of them made his tummy feel all fuzzy like you did. He wasn't really sure what to make of it all despite Megumi's advice.

A snowball smacking him square in the face stopped all of his foolishness and woke him up. Yuji doubled over with laughter and and scooped more snow up, Megumi ran for cover behind the slide.

"Got you!" Yuji trudged through the greying snow that crunched under his shoes and backed up towards the lone tree right in the middle of the children's park.

It didn't matter what your intentions were, or what would happen tonight after he knocked on your door. What mattered was the now.

Right now. "Loosen up Cho!"

Yuji's nickname that annoyed Choso to no end. A way to provoke his brother. Choso launched for cover behind the park bench and reached for stinging snow at his fingertips to pack it tight enough to launch it at the tree.

"I can, but I'll beat your ass. You sure you want that in front of your friend?" he called out to expect response from Yuji.

In fact the voice to speak up was Megumi from across the park. "I kick his ass at many things, it's nothing new to me. Just look at his street fighter score."

"Hey- you said you wouldn't get in to that!"

Whilst the two were arguing, Choso managed to land a rather large snowball at Yuji to repay the favour of getting snow smashed into his own face.

Yuji just stood there wide eyed which made Choso chuckle at first before it turned into a larger and much more heartier laugh which set his younger brother off by the tree. it even warmed Megumi's hardened exterior and Choso could have sworn he'd seen him laugh a little.

It didn't matter what you wanted from tonight, Choso would come in with an open mind and remember the fun he had at the children's park with his brother.

He'd most probably even tell you about it when he saw you later that night and maybe even invite you for a walk out in the snow to see the ever growing Christmas lights canopy throughout the streets.

The only question was, what movie should he bring?