#leave justice for the court to deliver

[avoicebehindthestars]

About bootlegging Good Omens...

I don't have the ranges to reach a lot of people, but I'm going to say this nonetheless.

If you feel like you can't bare anything that NG has ever created, you don't want to hear about Good Omens, Sandman, Coraline etc. ever again, that's perfectly fine and a decision to be respected. Quite frankly, I've found myself feeling uneasy while I tried to read Sandman recently because I can't stop perceiving it through what I found out about the author. Hell, even the sex scene in Stardust doesn't sit right with me anymore...

BUT

If you are still a fan of any of Neil's ongoing franchise (GO, Sandman, DBD, Anansi Boys) and choosing to bootleg them just to "punish" him - think again. Neil's current net worth is $18M. Even if he doesn't ever earn another penny, he can spend up to $0.5M a year and live to be nearly a hundred without a care in the world.

What you'll actually be doing is informing the streaming networks (Prime and Netflix) that Neil's franchise isn't worth investing in anymore. And, as a result, you guessed it - the shows you still love WILL get CANCELLED. Make no mistake, just because Prime has greenlit Good Omens s3 doesn't mean that can't pull out on a whim.

Neil hates showrunning, he said as much himself. He's only persevering on Good Omens because he'd made a promise to Pratchett. So let me say it again: by bootlegging, you won't be punishing Neil. You'll be punishing YOURSELVES by literally telling the networks to cancel the show, because they won't get any money out of it. Or, if not cancel - limit the investment, as they did with GO s2, which will result in shorter episodes (in case of GO right now we're looking at 6x45m... would you rather get 6x30m instead?), fewer extras, lower budget on CGI and sets, and overall poorer quality.

In other words - you'll be cutting multiple artists' income. I'm not talking about top-tier actors like MS or DT - they'll do all right either way (although MS will mostly likely be heartbroken, as we know how much he loves Good Omens). I'm talking about all the extras and less known actors who perform minor roles! I'm talking about everyone involved in the production - in making of the sets, in creating the special effects, hell, in carrying equipment and pouring coffee! Those are the people you'll be punishing.

Seriously, aside from his promise to Terry, I'm convinced Neil couldn't care less. Otherwise why would he be so adamant about wrapping it up in just 3 seasons when it's winning distinction after distinction?

Last but not least, watching Good Omens legally and buying franchise doesn't harm the victims. If Neil really committed the atrocities he's accussed of, he'll be punished by the court! Punishing Neil isn't your responsibility!

So before you make a decision, please remember:

if the show you bootleg is cancelled as a result, you will have punished: yourself, the fandom, all the artists and people involved in the production

punishing Neil is NOT your responsibility

wanting the networks to continue the franchise you like doesn't harm the victims

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You are found guilty

(Neuvillette sentences you for your horrible crimes. That's it. sfw)

“It saddens me to announce this… But you leave me with no choice. I shall render the final verdict.” 

The Iudex of Fontaine stood before you, tall and regal with his imposing gaze of impartiality. With a solemn clearing of his throat, he prepared to deliver the ultimate decision. “In light of the evidence provided, and the gravity of your actions, I shall announce the final judgment.”

“N-no… Your honor, Please,” - you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief at what will come. Your hands came clasping together, a silent plea for mercy.

“According to the judgment of Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale…”

“I beg you, d-don’t.”

“... The court finds the defendant guilty.” 

The court fell silent, as the words of the Chief Justice echoed throughout the hall. The silent witnesses of your case were immobile, and no one was here to defend your sins. You clenched your fists, your gaze searching Neuvillette’s despairing one. 

“But monsieur, I am telling you, I am innocent. Look, I have a child!”

Another silence bestowed upon the room. Neuvillette cleared his throat and in the same eloquent tone of formality interjected. Although it took him a great deal not to break out of character - “My dear. For the last time, a four-foot Otter plushie cannot constitute adequate evidence of being a child.” 

You sulked. Had this been a true courthouse, the onlookers would have shaken their heads in disbelief at your feeble attempt to feign innocence. But there were no living spectators in this courthouse. In fact, you and your beloved were not even in the Opera Epiclese. In reality, it was the sanctuary of your home, and the so-called eyewitnesses were your countless pillows or plushies that blocked Neuvillette from hugging you at night when you monopolized the bed with them.

“After careful and thorough consideration, the court has determined that you shall be sentenced to... “ - Neuvillette paused for the dramatics. “An eternity of cuddles and kisses provided by the Iudex himself.”

“Have mercy on me, Neuvi. I used the Otter plushie as a pillow and fell asleep once, it’s not like I forgot to give you a goodnight kiss on purpose, honey.” 

But of course, your beloved would not let such deeds go unpunished. That’s how your life was with him, along with the endless ‘legal jokes’. Neuvillette's professional life demanded impartiality and severity in accordance with the law, but at home, in the comfort of your arms, all formality dissipated. For his sanity, he relished returning home where his need to physically bury his face onto your chest was systematic. All you need to do is either caress his silver hair, embrace him in bed, or give him a loving kiss - it doesn’t matter, he is already a puddle of a dragon in your arms.

However, dare to forget your nightly cuddles and it will rain heavily outside out of the blue.  

“I am afraid the decision is final, dear. No chance of parole, either.” - He sat beside you, arms warped around your form to envelop your face in much-needed kisses. He peppers gentle pecks on your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anything to reach the quota of the skipped smooches you neglected him. 

“Aw, man. Not even on good behavior?”

“Absolutely not. The court renounces your plushie rights for the upcoming nights.”

It appears that if one yearned for a large Otter to embrace, they may have had one right by their side all along.

[novaursa]

The Cycle (justice)

- Summary: Cregan delivers justice for your son and Grey Ghost.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: one for the price of two

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

The Hour of the Wolf had come, and with it, the chill of northern justice.

Cregan Stark rode through the gates of King’s Landing, his direwolf sigil fluttering high above his head, flanked by his men—all grim-faced and hardened by the long ride south. The city was in chaos, the streets teeming with whispers of betrayal, murder, and treachery, the aftermath of the Dance of the Dragons still felt in the very air.

But Cregan’s purpose was clear. He had come for justice—justice for his son, for his wife’s dragon, for the innocent blood spilled by those who had thought themselves untouchable.

The courtyard of the Red Keep echoed with the sound of hooves and the clatter of armor as his men dismounted. The nobles of the court, gathered under Aegon III’s uneasy new rule, watched from the shadows, their eyes filled with both fear and curiosity. They knew why Cregan Stark had come.

For the moment, the North had claimed the South.

Cregan strode through the halls with the measured pace of a man who had waited long enough for his vengeance. The cold steel of his greatsword, Ice, was strapped across his back, the weight of it comforting in his hands. His face, grim and unyielding, was a mask of fury barely contained behind his calm demeanor.

As he entered the throne room, the smallfolk and nobles alike parted for him, their gazes heavy with anticipation. And there, at the foot of the Iron Throne, stood the object of his rage: Larys Strong.

The man who had murdered his son.

Larys, the Master of Whisperers, the weaver of dark secrets, was shackled in chains, his normally composed face now twisted in a grotesque mockery of calm. His body was hunched, his hands bound in irons, but his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—remained defiant.

Cregan’s jaw clenched as he looked at him, the memories of that night in Winterfell flooding back in an instant. The image of you cradling Eddard’s lifeless body, the broken, twisted form of Grey Ghost lying in the snow, both slaughtered by this man’s orders.

Larys Strong had made you choose, and then he had taken everything anyway.

The room was deathly silent as Cregan approached, each step echoing in the cavernous space. Aegon III sat on the Iron Throne, his face pale and expression unreadable, a boy-king who had seen too much bloodshed for his years. His hands gripped the arms of the throne tightly, his knuckles white. This was a day of reckoning, and everyone knew it.

Cregan stopped before the throne, his gaze never leaving Larys. “Is this the man?” His voice was low, cold, carrying the weight of the North’s judgment.

Aegon III’s voice was soft but steady, carrying across the room. “He is.”

Larys tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Lord Stark,” he rasped, his voice slick with that same insidious calm. “I’ve been expecting you.”

The rage that had simmered beneath Cregan’s surface for so long now threatened to boil over. He drew Ice from its scabbard with a smooth, practiced motion, the blade gleaming in the dim light of the throne room.

���Do you think I care about your expectations, Strong?” Cregan’s voice was a snarl, the cold fury of a man who had been forced to bury his son. “I care about one thing—justice for the blood you spilled.”

Larys’s eyes glinted, but he said nothing, his smile never faltering. The man had no remorse, no shame. It only stoked the fire burning in Cregan’s chest.

Aegon III shifted uncomfortably on the Iron Throne, but he made no move to intervene. He had given Cregan free rein to restore order, to bring justice to the blood-soaked realm that had been ravaged by the Dance. And justice had come in the form of the Wolf of Winterfell.

“Do you remember what you said to my wife?” Cregan growled, his voice low and dangerous as he took a step closer to Larys. “You made her choose between our son and her dragon. You took them both.”

Larys met his gaze, his smile fading slightly, but he remained silent.

“You broke her,” Cregan continued, his grip tightening on Ice. “You took her heart, you took my son—an innocent babe. And now, I will take your life.”

For the first time, a flicker of something crossed Larys’s face. Not fear—never fear—but something close to it. Perhaps it was the realization that the wolf had come for him, and there would be no escape from the jaws of vengeance this time.

Cregan’s voice grew louder, echoing through the throne room. “You will die quickly, Strong. Unlike my wife, you will not feel the pain you caused, the agony of watching something you love ripped from your grasp. But you will die.”

He raised Ice, its edge gleaming in the dim light. The room was utterly still, the assembled lords and ladies holding their breath.

“I sentence you to death,” Cregan declared, his voice steady now, filled with the finality of judgment. “Not as a lord, not as a commander of men, but as a father who has lost his son.”

And then, with one swift, brutal motion, Ice fell.

The blade cleaved through Larys Strong’s neck, the sharp ring of steel followed by the dull thud of his head hitting the stone floor. The room remained silent, the weight of the moment settling over the crowd like a blanket of snow. There was no cheer, no applause—only the grim satisfaction of justice served.

Cregan stood over the body, his chest heaving, his grip on Ice still firm. The blood of the man who had taken everything from him dripped from the sword’s edge, pooling at his feet. But for the first time since that terrible night, something inside him felt… quieter. Not whole, not healed—but quieter.

He turned and faced Aegon, his gaze unyielding, his voice cold and final. “Justice has been done.”

Aegon III, still pale, nodded slowly. “It has.”

The lords and ladies of the court remained silent as Cregan sheathed Ice, his expression unreadable. He had come for vengeance, and now that vengeance had been claimed.

But as he walked from the throne room, leaving behind the corpse of Larys Strong, Cregan Stark knew one thing: No matter how many enemies he felled, no matter how much blood was spilled, the hole left by his son’s death would never truly heal. The North would be strong, as it always was, but the scars of the Dance and the treachery of the Greens would remain with him for the rest of his life.

And as he returned to Winterfell, to his wife and what remained of his family, he vowed that his son’s name would never be forgotten, that the legacy of the wolves would live on.

For Winterfell. For the North. For Eddard.

[ledalasombra]

Yes, And?

Even though I had a lot of things half finished, this story stuck in my head... It kind of starts with nothing and ends with nothing... just a snippet of something... you know...

Yes, And?

Ladybug was chatting animatedly with Robin and Superboy during a break in the Justice League's bi-monthly meetings when she was approached by Kid Flash, who stopped next to her.

“Hello Ladybug, how are you on this wonderful day?” he commented with a slight smile, crossing his arms in front of her, seeing her respond with a friendly smile. “I was wondering if today would be the day we could have that dinner we talked about a few weeks ago…”

“Kid Flash, it's a pleasure to see you again” she said with her smile missing a little, as well as her excitement “Like I said the last time we talked, I don't believe this is a good idea. I don’t usually go out on dates with people while we’re in costume.”

“Maybe then we just need to meet outside of it…”

“I'm going to stop you right now Kid Flash. She already said she's not interested, so get lost…” Robin cut him off before Kid Flash could even continue, seeing the heroine force a smile in their direction. Before she could even comment anything, the group was called to return to the meetings, making everyone go to their place.

Robin stopped before he even entered the room. “Since when has he been trying to court you?” Robin commented seriously.

“I don’t think that’s important.” she commented looking at him and smiling again “Let’s go or we’ll end up being late.”

“Don’t think this matter is finished” he commented very quietly next to her.

"What subject? I don't know what you're talking about” she replied, smiling widely and leaving him with an irritated expression throughout the meeting. For some time, Robin tried to go back or find out more about the whole story, but noted that she would not comment, so he let the matter drop much against his will.

ººººº°°°°°ººººº

The following week, Ladybug was entering the Justice League's Main Hall, talking to Superboy about the reports they needed to deliver on a mission they had just returned from, when she was approached by Shazam, asking to speak to her in private. The request was readily accepted, but Superboy could detect a certain note of caution in her tone, which made the young man pay attention to the conversation, even though he knew it wasn't correct.

Superboy watched the two walk away, seeing Ladybug leave her body slightly tense. He found his friend's attitude strange, understanding as soon as he started to hear the conversation. Just after a few minutes of Shazam and Ladybug walking away, Robin approached Superboy, frowning as he watched the two talk further away, without really understanding what was happening. But before he even questioned it, Superboy signaled him to stay quiet to try to better understand the context of what was going on. He looked at Robin with a perplexed expression that couldn't be seen by the two who were further away since the young Kryptonian had his back to the two magic users.

“Ah Ma..” he stopped talking when he saw her expression, forcing a cough “Ladybug, come on, we talked about this movie last week. We commented on how incredible it would be, we could totally make time to go. Then we could stop by that restaurant we know. It would certainly be a great way to end the night… You know”

“Shazam, we are friends and I would certainly love to go with you and other friends of ours. What do you think? So, that wouldn’t lead people to come to the wrong conclusion about our friendship, wouldn’t it?” she commented calmly, still smiling and looking at the adult in front of her. They both knew each other outside the mask, outside the context of the entire Justice League. She had already noticed his interest in her and, on several occasions, hinted that she did not have the same interest as him. Or at least she thought she made that clear.

“Oh, uh… I was hoping that maybe we could turn this into a date of sorts?” he commented, somewhat embarrassed and hopeful.

"What happened?" Robin asked Superboy tensely, looking at Shazam and Ladybug from afar “What are they talking about that you need me to be quiet about?

“I didn’t know they knew each other outside of the mask” Superboy commented “and apparently they’re good friends.”

Robin frowned, looking at Superboy who smiled in surprise at the conversation. “What are they talking about?” The young vigilante asked, which came out much more like a demand than a question.

“Nothing much, he’s just asking her out… movies and dinner. It’s a good date, not bad.” He said with a slight smile “But the way she spoke to him I think she was already expecting something like that and I don’t think he’ll have much luck considering the way her breathing changed…”

Superboy didn't finish speaking as he soon saw that Robin was walking towards the two with long strides. He shook his head and headed to the room where the three would have a brief meeting about the mission they had just returned from. But one thing wouldn't leave the young man's mind: why doesn't he talk to Ladybug about his feelings for her right away? With the number of suitors she had, he would certainly end up losing the chance he still had...

Robin walked away from Superboy irritated and muttering profanities in Arabic about the entire situation. He took a deep breath quickly, stopping next to Ladybug and Shazam, managing to hear part of the young heroine's response.

“Oh…” she said in surprise, looking at him “Bi-Shazam. I, uh…, I don't really know what to say, but I really don't think this is a good idea. We..” she commented somewhat awkwardly, however she was immediately cut off by Robin, as he abruptly stopped next to her.

“Shazan, if you allow us, Ladybug and Superboy need to come with me to finalize the data for the mission we were on. Maybe you can talk another time” he said between his teeth, controlling himself so as not to cause any kind of ‘incident’.

“We’ll talk another time, ok?” Ladybug said goodbye quickly with a slight smile, waving at him as she walked away and followed Robin to the meeting room, where Superboy was waiting. She dropped her shoulders, taking a deep breath, caught up in her thoughts.

“Was he asking you out?” He said through his teeth “This is very unprofessional…”

“Don’t get me wrong Robin, but I’d rather not discuss it at the moment. Let's finish all this I'm tired and certainly a shower, food and my bed would be the highlight of my day or night whichever you prefer..” she spoke in a way to put the matter aside, gesturing widely with her hands. “And for the record Superboy, I expected more from you about listening to other people's conversations…” she said, sitting down and ending the subject.

The meeting ended after a little over 30 minutes, causing the team to disperse. Ladybug opened a portal directly to her apartment, where she dropped her transformation and headed for a long, hot shower. She had a quick snack with a croissant that she had left ready that morning and some tea, heading to bed soon after. Although it was a peaceful mission, the excess magic she needed to use left her exhausted and the only thing she needed at the moment was sleep. When she saw her cell phone light up with an incoming voice call, Marinette sighed deeply, ignoring the message and going to sleep. She turned off the sound from the device, leaving it face down on the table next to the bed and going to sleep. "This will be a problem for tomorrow's Marinette.." she whispered in the dark, closing her eyes and being hugged by Morpheus.

Robin saw Ladybug say goodbye as she merged her transformation by opening a portal soon after. Despite being calmer, he still expressed irritation at the entire conversation he heard, sighing deeply when he saw her entering the portal she created and it closing soon after. The young man looked at the place where the portal was for a few more seconds, turning around to leave the room and get to the Zeta tubes, to return home, however he was approached by Superboy on the way. He sighed, massaging his still frowning forehead, watching his friend speak.

“Robin, you should really talk to her and tell her how you feel. If you have to act like this every time someone hits on her, this place will become unsustainable.”

The young man looked at him seriously, walking back to the door. "I don't know what you are talking about. I don’t think you should worry about that."

ººººº°°°°°ººººº

Damian was already reasonably irritated with the entire situation that was occurring in the Justice League Watchtower. He was leaving his last class of the morning at Gotham University when he heard Marinette talking to one of their classmates, Anthony William Tabot Walton. He was in the same class as Marinette and Damian, being an insufferable person who, apparently, couldn't take no for an answer.

“I don’t think your invitation to lunch is a good idea Anthony. You certainly understand that I have no interest in going out with you, as I have said before.” Marinette commented politely, with a forced smile on her face, which didn't seem very convincing to young Walton.

Walton looked her up and down with a slight smile on his face. “Could we go to an Italian restaurant, something casual? You look like you could use some fun…”

Damian bristled, the audacity of this wanker. Having heard enough, Damian approached, stopping between the two, looking at Walton. “Did you ask her out?” he asked, then looking at Marinette who was relieved.

“Yes and if you would excuse us, we are trying to discuss the details…”

“And you were intending to accept?” Damian cut him off, turning his attention and asking Marinette.

“No, in fact I just told Monsieur Walton that I have no interest in the matter.” She replied with a serious expression. He glanced at her quickly, returning his attention to Anthony.

“You already have your answer. Now if you'll excuse us” he said, making to leave, but turned towards him again “stop harassing her. Oh, and if you bother her again I will make you regret your choices for the rest of your pathetic life.” he commented, taking her arm and leading her to the parking lot next to where they were. It was already empty, all the university students were already heading home or to the cafeteria.

“Damian… That was so unkind” she said, letting go of her arm that he was still holding, moving away a little, however her eyes said just the opposite.

“He shouldn't be insisting so much after so long” he complained, stopping in front of the car and opening the door for her to enter. He knew what he needed to do, but his pride didn't help much. He closed the door, turned around and got into the car on the driver's side.

“Is that all you have to say about it?” she looked at him, arching her eyebrow.

He sighed as if it physically pained him to say, “I’m sorry”

She grinned, pleased with the outcome of the situation “Yes, and?” she spoke as she approached him.

Damian sighed deeply, turning his head towards her and removing a strand of hair that had fallen in her face, his lips in a line, knowing what was coming. “And yes, you were right.”

“Um…” she gave a slight smile at the admission of the boy in front of her, looking at him with her blue eyes “And?” She lightly crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly, she was visibly having fun with the whole situation. After all, he was the one who let things get to that point.

Damian's stomach fluttered. He was usually composed, but nothing about Marinette made him feel ordinary. He knew he was madly in love with her, with that extraordinary woman. He released all the air he had in his lungs, taking a deep breath, knowing what he needed to say. After all, she was right in almost every case. “And…” he looked into her eyes, taking his hands to her hips, bringing her closer, letting both their lips almost touch “… maybe we should start telling people about us.”

She smiled lightly, shaking her head slightly in denial at the stubbornness of the man in front of her, slightly lifting her head and meeting him for a brief, passionate kiss. “We really should. If we had done that, I certainly wouldn't have had to go through some pretty unpleasant conversations.…”

He growled, finding his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. “You were right, none of them would be trying to court you and treating you like you had no mind of your own, like Walton did, if they knew we were together.”

She smiled happily at her boyfriend's admission. “Come on…” she said, taking his hand. “We can discuss further how we will do this in my apartment.” she commented, moving away a little and adjusting her seat belt. She certainly wouldn't stop saying 'I told you so' at least once by the end of the day...

[himasgod]

Enemies to lovers! Neuvillette x Reader II

Where you keep pushing him to try to break his facade

(I have many ideas in mind, many requests that I want to complete and many daily one-shots that I am writing, but still, here is part II of Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers for all those who requested it. Enjoy it! <3)

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers! PART I

The roar of the storm had ceased by the next morning, but the sky of Fontaine was still covered with grey, heavy clouds, as if the city itself were holding its breath. The Court was strangely quiet; the sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, an echo that seemed to mock your temporary freedom. You had managed to evade prison once again, although this time not thanks to your usual legal tricks. This time, your freedom had a higher price.

As you walked through the corridors, you couldn't get the image of Neuvillette's cold eyes out of your head, that look that seemed to pierce your soul, but that also revealed, in ephemeral flashes, a contained rage that he rarely dared to show. If there was one thing you had learned in all these years of confrontation, it was that the Judge was not as indifferent as he pretended. And that was precisely what kept you on edge. You had learned to read his expressions, the little nuances in his voice that slipped away when he momentarily lost his iron control. And at that last hearing, you had noticed something different.

As you turned the corner into a little-used conference room, you stopped dead in your tracks. Neuvillette’s imposing figure was there, waiting for you, as if he knew exactly you would take that path. There was no one else in the room. Just you, him, and a silence laden with the tension that had characterized your relationship since the first day you met.

“Are you following me now, Neuvillette?” you mocked, raising an eyebrow with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Or has Fontaine decided it no longer need a formal trial to convict someone?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just watching you with those clear, unblinking eyes. Yet there was something different in his gaze today; an intensity that made your skin tingle, as if an electric current floated in the air between you.

“You and I have unfinished business,” he said finally, his voice lower and deeper than usual.

The smile on your lips widened, a provocative glint in your eyes.

“Oh, really?” You took a step forward, closing the distance between you. “I don’t recall leaving anything unresolved for you, Monsieur Supreme Judge. Unless you’re here to confess that you’ve finally found a law I can’t evade.”

Neuvillette watched you in silence for a long moment, and the air seemed to grow thicker around you. The room, which had previously seemed cold and lifeless, now felt suffocating, as if every breath cost you twice as much.

“You are aware that your presence here only aggravates your situation, right?” he asked, not letting himself be carried away by your provocations. But this time, his tone wasn’t as cold as usual. There was an almost… personal tone to his words.

You leaned into him, so close that you felt the heat emanating from his body. Your lips curved into a smile that defied any notion of regret.

“If you truly wanted me locked away, you would have taken me to Fortress of Meropide already, wouldn’t you?” you whispered, letting your words slide between us like a subtle poison. “But here we are, you and I, alone once more. And oddly enough, you don’t seem all that eager to deliver me to justice.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought you’d crossed a dangerous line. But instead of pulling away, Neuvillette took a step toward you, closing the distance even further until you could feel his warm breath on your face. Your hearts beat in unison, a frantic cadence that betrayed the calm you both pretended to maintain.

“Do not mistake my patience for leniency,” he growled, his voice low and strained. "If you’re still free, it’s not because of a lack of evidence, but because of something you don’t yet understand."

“And what would that be?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

His gaze darkened, as if he were fighting an internal battle that you couldn’t see. Then, unexpectedly, his hand moved. But it wasn’t to restrain you or imprison you. Instead, his hand rested on your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Sometimes justice isn’t just about laws and evidence,” he murmured, his voice so low you could barely hear it. “Sometimes, it’s about redemption.”

The word seemed to hang in the air, as heavy as the storm still brewing outside the Courthouse windows. You couldn’t help but laugh, a low, bitter laugh.

“Redemption?” you scoffed. “If that’s what you’re after, you’re talking to the wrong person. Fontaine doesn’t need redemption; it needs someone who isn't afraid to get their hands dirty to expose what's really wrong with this nation. And that person, Monsieur Iudex, is me.

His eyes darkened, but he didn't remove his hand from your chin. On the contrary, his grip became a little firmer, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't take your eyes off him.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded, to your surprise. "But that doesn't change the fact that you remain a danger to the peace of Fontaine."

The intensity of his gaze took your breath away for a second. There was a mix of anger, frustration, and something you couldn’t quite place. Something that, for a brief, confusing moment, made you doubt everything you thought you knew about him.

“And you, Neuvillette, are still a coward who hides behind your laws so as not to face the truth,” you said, and this time there was no mockery in your tone, only a cold, defiant sincerity.

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he lowered his hand to your neck, his fingers brushing your skin with a strange mix of firmness and softness. It was a touch that unnerved you, because it was neither a threat nor a show of affection. It was something else… something you couldn’t quite figure out.

“You keep getting me wrong,” he whispered, his voice a barely audible murmur. "Don’t underestimate me… or yourself. This feud of ours is an abyss that can consume us both if we’re not careful."

You fell silent, your eyes locked on his. There was something in his tone you hadn’t heard before. Something that told you that no matter how much you two fought, no matter how much he wanted to see you behind bars, he couldn’t deny that there was an attraction between you that even he, with his relentless sense of duty, couldn’t ignore.

But before you could say anything, Neuvillette released his grip on your neck and stepped back, his face returning to its usual impassive expression.

“This isn’t over,” he said, turning to leave the room. “And the next time we meet, I won’t be so forgiving.”

As you watched his figure disappear down the hall, you couldn’t help but smile. Because you knew that, even if he wanted to keep his distance, the line between enemies and something more was growing thinner and thinner.

And both of you, however much you denied it, were dangerously close to crossing it.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[sunstone-smiles]

A Proper Send-off

Original request (Part 2): "...but kieran is so adorable and i would love to read a fic of him that you wrote!...[Could you do] 11. snickers for the indigo disk version? just because of his character development and change in personality! sorry that i’m requesting two fics, but you’re one of my favorite fic writers and i know you’d do him justice. thank you so much for answering! 🫶"

Author’s note: Happy Day 11 of Tickletober everyone! This fic is partially a part 2 to my fic “You’re Not Ogerpon!” from day 5 of Tickletober, but it works as its own stand-alone fic as well! Here’s Day 11: “Hug,”  “Snickers,” and “Noise” from August’s Prompt List, Crow’s Prompt List, and Nim’s Prompt List! I hope you enjoy!

Series: Pokemon

Characters: Kieran and Juliana

Word count: 1,115

Summary: While Kieran and Juliana are reminiscing about their past adventures, a memory reminds them both about the fun they once had together, and the fun that can be had again.

---

No student wants to wake up early unless there's an important reason. The sun is just beginning to rise over the sea and the light gives the sky around it the hue of pink lemonade. The glow creeps its way onto the central battle court of Blueberry Academy, where Kieran and Juliana watch the sun awake from the stands.

This is how to start a day that will end a series of adventures. 

“You know,” Kieran says as he takes in the sight. The sea breeze graces its presence through his hair. “For as early as we have to wake up, this is always worth it.”

Juliana nods. “You said it.”

Another rush of wind from the sea passes by them. 

“I’m glad you’re able to properly see this before you leave,” Kieran breaks the silence. “Sitting here in the stands with the sea around you, it makes a difference.” 

The breeze glides in their hair again.

“It’s going to be weird not being able to see you everyday,” Juliana’s eyes drift down a bit.

“Yeah, but it’s not goodbye forever. We still have our Rotom phones to stay in touch.”

“True. But I’m going to miss the frequent battles we had. Can’t really do that when we’re in different regions.”

A moment passes where only the breeze speaks.

“You’re always welcome to visit Blueberry academy,” Kieran says.

“And same to you with Paldea.”

Kieran reminisces. “If it wasn’t for that trip to Kitakami, I would have never met you.”

“Yeah, we had a lot of fun times there.” There’s a pause before she chuckles. “Hehe, do you remember the time when I scared you in the woods and tickled you so you wouldn't be mad at me?”

“Heh, yeah, I remember,” Kieran responds. His head tilts downwards. “A lot has changed since then.”

Juliana sees his expression drop and tries to lighten the mood. “Yeah, but if I had to guess, I bet you being ticklish would be the same, huh?” she nudges him in the arm.

A smile forms on his face. “Tch, I grew out of it.”

“Really? You pull your hair up and get a fancy new champion title and now you're telling me that you’re no longer ticklish?”

“Yep, that’s what I’m saying,” Kieran replies before turning his view back to the sea.

“Well, we’ll just see about that!” Juliana smirks. 

Kieran glances at her just in time to see Juliana lunging at him. He tries to lean to the side, but Juliana wraps her arms tightly around him in a big hug from the side.

Kieran’s voice turns to one of panic as he tries to squeeze himself out of Juliana’s hug. “Wait! Juliana! I don’t want to make any noise!” Kieran manages to say before his body seizes up from the sudden scribbles delivered to his side. The corner of Kieran’s mouth begins to twitch into a smile. He clamps his arms to his sides and attempts to twist away from Juliana while also trying to hide his face in his shoulder.

“We don’t have to worry about waking anybody up, Kieran. It’s just us up here while everyone else is still in the academy underwater.” She fakes a gasp, “Unless, you’re making up an excuse to hide that you’re still ticklish?”

“N-no!” Kieran stutters as Juliana’s fingers still scribble at his sides, “Of c-course not!”

“Uh-huh,” Juliana gives him a playfully disbelieving look. “Let’s see, if I remember correctly, this got a reaction out of you last time,” Juliana says before scribbling a hand into his belly.

Kieran reacts with a sudden giggly shriek that temporarily breaks his defenses. He shuts his mouth up tight from the slip up and slams his foot onto the ground, as if to stomp down the giggles just bursting to release. However, bubbly snickers begin to fall from his lips.

Juliana grins, “Was that a laugh I heard just now, Kieran?”

“Nope! D-definitely not! Definitely not a laugh! Hehehe!” he tries to push Juliana’s grip away as more snickers end his sentence. At this point, he knows she has him figured out, but he’s not willing to give up yet!

“Hmm, it seems my opponent is still holding his ground. Then it’s time to bring out a super effective attack!” Juliana exclaims. She pulls him closer to her in a tighter hug, causing Kieran to almost fall back in her arms.

“W-wait! Don’t you dahare!” A nervous giggle already slips form Kieran, right before Juliana slips her hands into his underarms.

Kieran squeaks and a burst of laughter follows, “Nohohoho! Julianahahaha!” he flails his limbs from the giggles now surging through his body.

“Ah ha! I knew you were still ticklish!” Juliana grins.

“Ohohokay! Okay! Yohohou got me! Yohohohou win!”

“I did, but I want to commemorate this occasion! I’ll only stop if you admit that you’re still ticklish!” Juliana playfully bargains.

“Whahahat?! Nohohoho way!”

“Kieran,” Juliana says knowingly. She quickens the scribbling of her fingers.

He squeaks again. “Ohohohokay! I’m still toohohoho ticklish for thihihihis!”

She giggles and pulls her hands away, allowing Kieran to rest. “Those were just the words I was looking for.”

Kieran wraps his arms around his torso in a protective hug of his own. He catches his breath, leaning forward on the stands as if he just ran a marathon.

“Are you okay, Kieran?” Juliana asks with concern.

He leans up straight with his arms still wrapped around himself. “I guess so…”

She chuckles. “I’m getting a sense of déjà vu. You said the same thing last time too before we had our nice conversation and went off searching for Ogerpon. Maybe things haven’t changed as much as you thought, Kieran.”

His expression eases into a smile. “Yeah,” Kieran looks back on the past for a moment. A warm feeling comes over his chest as he thinks about those happy memories. They didn’t find Ogerpon that day, but he was fortunate to have Juliana on the adventure with him.

As the sea breeze cools his skin, a mischievous smile grows onto his features.

“But you keep forgetting something, Juliana.”

The girl turns to him, “Hmm, what?”

“That things have changed since then.” He leans forward with a grin and wiggles his fingers in the air at her. “This time, I want revenge.”

Juliana gasps and her eyes widen. She leans on her arm to back away. Giggles already fill her words.

“Oh no! Kieran?” she backs up even more. “Kieran–Eeek!” she squeaks when Kieran lunges at her and wraps her in a hug, now tickling her. The sound of her giggly laughter pairs with the breeze and the waking sunrise as the day begins anew.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

More on Clover's personality/mbti

this one's shorter don't worry

So, I mentioned before how Clover's creative when it comes to a lot of stuff (more than they are grounded), but there's also the fact they can sing (that's how they spare Insomnitot), dance (not as much into it as Bailador, but they CAN dance), make puns (Gun-hat and how they wanted to make puns in the stable in Wild East; idk the exact line) are into drawing (in Axis' office, you'll get a text saying "You wish you could draw that well..."), video games (with Mew Mew) and they even know how to play the harmonica (from the teaser trailer), plus tend to zone out ↓

They constantly kept choosing kindness over what's right.

Those are PERSONAL values they have, that these monsters deserve forgiveness. I really think the inferior Te clashes with dominant Fi in their case. Clover wants to do what's objectively right and just, but at same time their heart is just too pure. They were able to empathise with everyone and get in everyone's shoes (also affectionate but that's a bonus) ↓

there's no change in their kindness from the beginning to end

Like if they were actually in court I don't think they'd act like a "typical" judge and deliver 100% fair consequences. No, that Fi kindness would ALWAYS win, like it did with Star and Ceroba.

Clover's Fi was always there, but differentiates depending on the route. In pacifist, they decided that everyone, in spite of what they objectively did wrong, should be forgiven and understood. In neutral, they decide whose actions were moral enough to get spared, and whose weren't. In geno, instead of killing five monsters, they wipe out anyone THEY think is in their way.

If they were Ti dominant they'd naturally be a lot more rigid and have/show a lot less empathy, imo. The Te inferior is present in geno bc they think they are dealing with the events in the outside world objectively, but the Fi is still there, that's why they don't stop killing: THEY are the one who thinks it should be this way. Clover wants to influence/control the outer world (Te; they don't spend a lot of time dwelling on their actions, unlike Ti users, Clover's a lot more forceful) based on how they subjectively think things should be (still that Fi except that it manifests differently than in pacifist). Clover as a thinker would naturally be more detached from emotions, but they're... they're not. Even in the beginning.

Inferior Te present their Fi opinions like they are objective Te facts - I found this line and it instantly reminded me of geno Clover. "Yeah, I'm right for killing everyone, even though I'm really not"

Clover becomes like a "manager of justice" when in their dark side. You step outta line, you're dead - that's kinda the "structure" I think we're talking about here. Still values over how logically to assess a situation, though. Ceroba calls them naive.

This means that Clover WANTS.... no, ALWAYS WANTED to approach the "missing children" situation like they're in control, but in reality, they were without a clear plan of what to do and how to do it. That's inferior Te.

On the contrary, in the vengance route, they step into their inferior function and take control... but at what cost.

As for their Si, we have the fact Clover remembers their past home life, remembers cramped living conditions, their responsibilities at home, the TV channel they "watched"...

All this stuff from the past contributed to them leaving for the Underground (aka affected their future). I really really don't think Clover has auxiliary Se. That would mean they're usually present-focused. But no, this kid's thought process feels more complex to me. As explained, Se mostly focuses on what's in front of them; Clover, while in the present, can think of the past (their home life), which then influences their future (jumping down Mt. Ebott). And when in the present, they can think of the far future (dying during their mission and therefore never coming back home or becoming an adult, and in the end the potential freedom of monsterkind) and recall the past vividly (all those things their friends told them throughout their journey)

They don't suspect Flowey's malicious, either. And even if some part of them didnt trust Ceroba, Clover never showed it or said anything out loud (not that i remember), and even if they did, they still chose to spare Axis since he is the only thing left of Chujin. That's naive, maybe. But Clover's REALLY REALLY REALLY sweet.

Speaking of Flowey... remember how he would often encourage Clover and tell them to have more confidence and that they "don't have to be scared" and "lean on him for emotional support" and that they should "have some faith in themselves too"? Yeah, that's the aspect of their personality that they had to work on; becoming the leader they were always meant to be.

Their arc feels like going from a scared kid to a great hero. Aka stepping into that inferior Te... the right way.

[strawbeerossi]

Heartless

Pairing: Unsub!Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Part Description: With an old foe breaking out of prison, there are complications when Y/N is left alone with them, exposing her secret to Spencer about just who she is.

Content Warnings: Coarse language, there’s spoilers for season 12 and prison Reid, mentions of drugging, mentions of death, use of a knife, use of a gun, violence, death.

Word Count: 4.4K

Part one || Part two || Part three

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Confusion had set in the minute that Y/N had gotten to Spencer’s car, watching the clumsy man nearly trip over his own two feet as he was pulling open the passenger side door, his tender touch against her lower back as he was so lovingly nudging her so she’d get in the car. “I thought you said this killer killed men. Why am I going to the office? Her MO isn’t women.” She tried, her boyfriend’s head shaking.

“Just listen to me!” Spencer snapped, bringing his hands to his hair while drawing in a breath. Trying to compose the very overwhelming emotions that seemed to be taking control. After prison, Spencer became more irritable. It was harder for him to control his emotions, he had major tunnel vision, and he was in a post traumatic stress state that wouldn’t ever leave him. Sure, things got better, in spurts. Therapy did so much for him, his girlfriend could only do so much, it was like his mind was against him.

“We need to get to the office now, okay? I promise you that I will explain everything in vivid detail but I need you in the fucking car! You’re gonna get hurt and I can’t lose someone else. Please just get in the car..” Watching Spencer panic and grow fearful was enough to make Y/N’s heart shatter. Her poor baby. In order to fulfill the man’s wishes, she was pressing a soft kiss against his cheek before climbing into the car, the seatbelt being snapped into place as soon as she was settled. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Who the fuck was trying to take Y/N’s position? To claim all her hard work as their own? There was no doubt those men, no, those dirty pigs deserved to die. However, she was the one doing it. She was delivering justice to women who were failed by the system, by the courts, even by their spouses. What she did was vigilantism, doing what the law couldn’t. Even if her boyfriend was part of that same very law and would look down upon her choices. She had to keep it under the radar. She knew what would happen if her boyfriend was to find out.

She’d have to kill him.

It was almost a little laughable how naive Spencer was with the whole situation with his girlfriend, the way she would come over at all hours of the night, the way she’d always be tightly wound up. However, working in customer service for all shifts was a good excuse for that.

Spencer, the genius FBI profiler who had so much under his belt, had no idea he was in bed with a woman who he wanted to strangle. She’d like to think that he loved her, that he was overlooking everything just because he found solace in her arms. It was something that he told her, saying he needed her, that she made him sane after all the hell that he’d been put through.

Deep down, she knew that he was one of the good ones. The ones who deserved a loving relationship, a woman willing to take care of him, willing to deal with the long nights, days, even weeks when Spencer was off on a case. That was why she was there. To give a man who was the most deserving of love the very thing that he craved, needed. It wasn’t even just the sex that kept her there. It was that studious, lovable dork who always had so much to say, so much to teach her.

“There’s this woman, a woman who has been messing with me for years. I outsmarted her.” Spencer answered, one hand coming up to rub his right eye, the tunnel vision setting in as he was growing more overwhelmed. “Cat Adams. She-“ He let out a low sigh. “She drugged me, she framed me for murder, had me incarcerated, she.. She..” He was taking in a shaky breath while Y/N was reaching over to let her hand rest on his upper arm.

“You don’t have to say it right now, okay? I promise that it’s alright. I’m here for you.” Y/N assured her boyfriend, a weak smile on her face. Oh, she was gonna kill this bitch, for sure. She felt like this was going to be a bigger fight than it needed to be. Way too big.

Spencer was pulling in the parking garage soon after that, sitting in a deafening silence while he tried collecting himself the best that he could. He had to think clearly. Not only was he at risk but his girlfriend was too. Cat had so many people to do her dirty work outside of prison, he knew that. This was her handiwork. He didn't know how he didn't see it before.

Cat made the most sense. She was a 'Black Widow' killer. She used her seduction and charm to lure men in. She saw all men as threats, considered them all as evil and dark as the next. She never spared a thought for most of them. Spencer though.. Oh, Cat was infatuated. He was the only man to ever outsmart her, to arrest her while winning the game that she rigged against him. That woman wouldn't ever leave him alone, not until she was dead.

Being locked in a maximum security prison didn't deter her. Instead, it fueled her. It drove her to dig up every piece on Spencer that she possibly could. Hell, she had him drugged and imprisoned all the while blaming Mr. Scratch.

Emily Prentiss, the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, was the one who greeted Spencer and Y/N by the elevator. "I'm glad you could make it. I know you've been busy with your personal investigation." She hummed, turning her attention to Y/N. "I had a suspicion our beloved Dr. Reid had a secret girlfriend." She joked, holding a hand out. "I'm Emily."

Y/N did her research on the BAU leader. She was strong willed, determined, and loyal to her work family. However, the mommy and daddy issues were apparent in her work ethic. The way she took on a more demanding tone, the way she looked at Y/N with that hint of mistrust. It was enough to make the other woman almost respect her. Emily was definitely going to make things difficult if she didn't play things smart.

The leader gets suspicious, and the team turns against her. No thanks.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." Y/N greeted, a smile gracing her features while her hand was reaching out to hold Emily's, the two shaking hands before their hands were falling back to their usual places.

"Spencer. If you wouldn't mind taking Y/N somewhere she can get comfortable, everyone else is waiting on us." Straight to business.

"I know it's not really work appropriate," Spencer began, his gaze falling on his girlfriend before he was taking her hand. "I'd really appreciate it if she came in too. She's been my rock throughout all of this and I don't think I can even talk about.." He paused briefly, making Emily look at Y/N before letting out a sigh.

"Alright. If you would feel more comfortable with her there, she can sit in. However," Now her attention was on Y/N. "I don't know what Spencer has told you but this is a violent case. We are going to be talking about a lot of dark subject matters." She spoke, a warning to the very woman who was behind every single murder except the most recent one.

"I understand. I think that I can handle it. If I can't, I'll quietly excuse myself." Her tone was soft as she offered a gentle smile.

Following close behind her boyfriend and his boss, Y/N was looking around the bullpen. There was a lot of structure and order, yet a hint of chaos judging by the piles of files and other papers on certain desks. She could already guess which one was Spencer's, which made her smile.

Inside the conference room though, the talking was coming to a halt when a new woman was stepping in the room, hand tucked in Spencer's.

There was a blonde woman that was speaking up first, a wide smile on her face. "Who is this?!" She asked, the case at hand almost being forgotten by the woman with purple framed glasses, a dress that was littered with unicorns amongst other fantasy style items. She didn't look like someone who would willingly choose this career, seeming very overjoyed and kind, too kind for the world.

"I'm Y/N. You must be Penelope." Y/N spoke up, the woman perking up even more if it was possible. "You've been talking about me!" She laughed, putting her hands together. "Is this your girlfriend? Oh! Spencer she's so-"

"Garcia."

Emily's voice was bringing the woman back to the heavy reality of the situation, making her smile fall as she nodded. "Sorry, sorry. Um," She began while grabbing the remote on the table. "We have Matthew Thornton." She began, clicking a button on the remote to pull up the crime scene.

Whoever was trying to take Y/N's thunder didn't even do it right. They stabbed the body about seventy times, which was far too much work for her to even attempt. Besides that, she'd never think to leave behind a note taunting anyone. However, this wasn't her. With the way she could feel her boyfriend tense up, she knew this was the work of the woman he told her about in the car.

"She ended up being a part of a well coordinated prison break." Tara was speaking up, her gaze looking over the files in hand while frowning. "How did the guards not notice?" She asked while Matt was looking over at the woman's direction. "Guards were in on it. It doesn't help that some of those same guards were killed while on their shift once the break happened and their clothes were stolen. Makes it easy to scan an ID and open the doors for everyone."

"So, wait," Y/N interjected herself into the conversation, however nobody seemed against her speaking her thoughts out. "With the break and how it flew under the radar for so long, do we know how long they've been out?" She asked, her eyebrows raising in curiosity. Maybe blaming this on Cat Adams could potentially get her fully off the suspect list.

"According to reports, this went on months ago." David responded, making Luke nod. "Meaning, Cat has been fighting for Spencer's attention in the only way she could. It looks like the killings led up to Spencer's apartment at one point but they stopped, now they are back on track."

Oh. Blessing in disguise maybe?

"What do we know?" Spencer finally broke his silence, his hand reaching over for one of the files before he was opening it, although it was almost like he had it to where Y/N could see too. Was she unknowingly getting signed up to help?

"She was seen in a convenience store security footage." Penelope answered, quickly pulling up the files. As they went through the footage a couple times, the blonde was pausing it on Cat's face. There was no doubt about it being her. Why was she playing the long game though? When Y/N found someone she wanted dead, she got on with it. There wasn't any doubt going through her mind.

"She's taunting us. We could be walking directly into a trap." Emily pointed out the obvious, her hands resting against the tabletop while keeping a sharp eye on the screen ahead of her. "I think it's time for us to go off of our leads. Garcia, send us coordinates for her last known locations. Judging by how recent this footage is, she's close. I’m pairing all of us off. We need to play this safe.”

Emily just didn't know how close Cat really was.

◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

Cat had successfully evaded police capture for months now, keeping her eyes on one specific person. She saw Y/N approach Spencer in a bar a few months ago, getting cozy with him before going back to his apartment. So.. Cat did what she did best, digging.

She followed Y/N around on her nights of leisure, watching her use her intoxicating voice and seduction to lure unsuspecting men back to shitty motels and other discreet places just to kill them. Yet, after all that, she’d made sure to not leave a trace of evidence behind before she left.

Going straight home to her boyfriend, an FBI agent who would no doubt kill her if she found out.

That was when Cat decided to make her escape known, attracting the attention of the BAU in order to throw this woman under the bus. Cat’s obsession with Spencer knew absolutely no bounds. She would do what she could to make him suffer, all the while managing to keep him all to herself.

He didn’t deserve to be happy. No, he deserved to be with someone who was meant for him. She knew from the moment she met Spencer that he was an evil person, harboring a dark side that only she had managed to bring out after being part of completely breaking him down, making him crumble into a form of himself that he would never fully recognize.

She knew they’d be catching on soon. The BAU never disappointed her, she was going to one place where they wouldn’t be looking. In fact, it was the place where Y/N was sent after Emily was making the woman leave due to the fact that no normal civilian needed to be part of this. Spencer was against the idea entirely but at the promise of an agent going to guard his girlfriend, he had to deflate and accept she needed to go home, where she was safe.

So, as she was being ushered home by some big agent to keep her safe, Y/N could help but frown. They thought she needed a man to protect her?? She knew what she was doing. If Cat even showed up on her radar, it’d be easy to kill her. No guard would be able to hold her back either. She’d pieced together every horrible thing that Cat coordinated against Spencer, the way she pulled the strings in an elaborate plan to completely break him.

There was going to be a long, painful death in store for the notorious escaped convict, that was all she knew.

“You don’t have to be here you know.” Y/N murmured to the man beside her, her hand reaching in her purse so she could unlock her front door. “Sorry, ma’am. Orders.” He wasn’t gonna let up. It was enough to get under her skin, wanting to grab her blade tucked away in her bag and slit his throat. However, she wasn’t going to fully incriminate herself after seemingly getting away with murder.

As soon as the door was unlocked, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Thankfully, the man outside would just be standing guard, which was a shitty decision if Cat was as good as they said she was.

Y/N had gotten her shoes off before heading to her kitchen, flipping on the light before raising an eyebrow as she saw Cat Adams, the woman the whole team was looking for, at her kitchen table. She had a folder resting on the table, labeled for Spencer. “You’re home! Thank god, I was worried I’d have to go find you!”

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment? How did you get into my apartment?”

“I have my ways! Now, why don’t you sit down?”

The way that this woman was talking to her had Y/N rolling her eyes. “I think I’m gonna have to ask you to leave before I shove a knife in your throat. I mean, it would be self defense, after all. You broke into my home, you’re a convicted murderer.”

“Ah. You’re a murderer too though.” Cat stated, opening the file in front of her to reveal the prints linking Y/N with each victim. The same bar where she met Spencer, the same drink, the same body language. “I mean.. This is plenty of evidence. The cameras may not work there but people have their eyes open. Always. I know so many people around here, you’d be surprised.”

Cat didn’t give Y/N time to ask any questions. “Now, what I wanna know is, what are you doing with Spencer Reid? Your whole crusade is to kill men who have gotten away with violence against their partners and/or their children. Men who are violent, harboring dark thoughts and using their strength to either take life away, or to try and end it.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with Spencer.”

“You don’t? You do know that Spencer murdered a woman, correct? In cold blood, might I add. She was trying to help him and he returned the favor by stabbing her to death.”

“Because you drugged him, Cat. I’m not fucking stupid, I’ve already been made aware.”

“Were you aware that after his release from prison, he came to visit me? He had to talk with me about my involvement, which I’m sure you know that I had his precious mommy under my lock and key. Do you know what he did to me? What he said?”

There was silence from Y/N’s end. That was something she hadn’t heard yet.

“You see, I was pregnant in prison. Spencer had come to question me, asking me all sorts of bullshit questions. So I answered. He got impatient with me. Started yelling, threw a table out of the way, and slammed me against a brick wall. He was going to choke me to death, Y/N. I had bruises for months after that. I even miscarried. If JJ hadn’t been there, I would’ve been dead.” The story wasn’t as tragic as Cat believed it to be. She deserved it.

“You fight for women and children who have been fucked over by the crooked structure of law enforcement. The same law enforcement that your sweet boyfriend is a part of. Killing all of those men was a waste of time. If you truly cared about those people who you claim to be fighting for, Spencer would’ve been dead a long time ago. I respected your choices leading up to that moment. The moment that you grew weak. The moment you betrayed every single thing you were fighting for.”

As if right on cue though, there was the sound of banging right outside the front door, Spencer’s voice being muffled by the front door as he called out to his girlfriend. He willingly sent her home, thinking she’d be safe. All the while, Cat left plenty of clues as to where she was. “Right on time! I knew Spencie wouldn’t fail me.” She grinned.

“Go be a good girl and unlock the door. I think you and him need to have a long talk about what you did.” She spoke, leaning back in her chair while nodding towards the front door, where Spencer was still yelling for his girlfriend. If she didn’t open the door soon, he’d have to pull a Derek and kick the wooden door clean off its hinges.

This was where Y/N’s heart fell into her stomach. Realization was setting in. Spencer was going to know. He was going to see the incriminating bullshit that Cat had in front of her. Everything was going to fall down to Y/N killing Spencer. This was what Cat needed her for. What she used her for.

She quietly approached the front door, unlocking each individual lock before pulling it open. “Oh thank god!” Spencer croaked, his arms wrapped tightly around his girlfriend while he held her flush against his chest. The comfort of knowing she was okay was enough to have him sobbing in her arms, unaware of what darkness was looming in the kitchen. “She’s on the way here.” He spoke, him against her shoulder while his eyes were closed.

The moment was gone in an instant. “I’m already here, Spencie. It’s so nice to see you again. I bet that you thought you were doing justice here,” Cat smirked, body leaning against the kitchen archway as she let an eyebrow raise. “I suggest you come inside, sit with us in the kitchen. We both have a lot to discuss with you.” She began, causing the couple to break apart from the hug as Y/N grabbed her boyfriend’s hand. “Come on.” She whispered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she led him into the kitchen.

“Now, I think you guys should recruit me into the fbi. Because I solved this case for you!” Cat grinned, pushing the closed file to Spencer. “Your killer, the one you’ve been searching for, has been right under your nose this whole time. It’s not even me!” She had a wicked smile on her face. This was another shot to Spencer’s heart, making him go through pain all over again. As long as she was alive, Spencer wouldn’t ever escape her.

You could hear a pin drop the minute that Spencer opened the file, his eyes staring at the pictures inside while his mouth ran dry. That was Y/N. His girlfriend. With the men who were murdered, the same bar they met in and everything.

“What the fuck is this?” There was anger in his voice, betrayal. “You’ve let me nearly kill myself from lack of sleep and bringing me to near heart attack level because of you?!” The venom in his voice had Y/N flinching upon impact, her eyes squeezing shut. “You don’t understand-“ She began, though it wasn’t long before Spencer was throwing the file down and standing.

“Was I another victim?! Were you playing the fucking long game with me? You wanted to catch me fully off guard?” He growled, the woman being backed up to the wall. Y/N felt powerless, her heart beating out of her chest as the man she loved was towering over her, keeping her trapped between himself and the wall.

However, once his back was to Cat, it was almost like something else flashed in his eyes. There was anger but now there was something else. Encouragement? She didn’t think much about it until Spencer was reaching over to take a knife out of the knife block, holding it out to his girlfriend. “Do it then. Go for it.” He growled, though there wasn’t fear behind his eyes. No.. There was a fucking smirk on his face, egging her on to make a move.

Y/N was slowly taking the knife once Spencer backed up, this time sitting in a chair. There were a few moments of silence while Y/N was looking at her reflection within the blade of the knife, something ticking inside of her. Something she’d been waiting to act on for a while. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking over at her boyfriend who seemed unbothered. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Just hurry up. We don’t have much time.” 

The way she was encouraged made her face Cat, then everything went black.

The first thing she did was charge the other woman, knocking her out of the chair. The air was thick with adrenaline as the woman was wrestling the other to the ground. This was a long time coming. However, cat put up one hell of a fight, the woman ending up getting a good hit on Y/N and knocking her to the ground, which had Cat be the knife wielder.

As the woman was climbing on top of the other, she was pushing the knife deep into Y/N’s shoulder, the woman letting out a loud cry. “You’re pathetic, you know that? All that promise? All that strength. He was going to take it away from you anyway. You never loved him and he never loved-“

BANG

Blood was splattered all over Y/N’s face, the sound of a gunshot echoing through the apartment. The deadweight of Cat falling on top of her was enough to shock her. Did Spencer just.. There were a few moments where Y/N used the adrenaline coursing through her veins to shove the dead weight off of her.

“How dumb do you think I am?” Spencer asked after a moment, using a lighter to light up the incriminating evidence in the sink to let the pictures burn completely. “I’ve known the whole fucking time. You’re not exactly subtle. Be real. I was in that bar on a stakeout.” He continued on while looking back at Y/N.

“I was supposed to go in, do my job, and get out. However, you sat beside me. The way you were talking to me, touching me, and your body language gave you up immediately. However.. Against my better judgment, I had some sort of trust in you. I took you home with me.” He began while turning on the water to put out the fire from the burning evidence before grabbing the unidentifiable pictures and throwing them in the trash.

“I fell in love with you. Even if you didn’t deserve that love. Quite frankly, you still don’t.” He was taking off the purple scarf around his neck, wrapping it around her bleeding wound while he was moving to grab his microphone, putting a finger up. “Prentiss, send up medics. Cat’s down and Y/N is wounded.” He sent off the message while letting his arms cross as he looked over his girlfriend.

“I’m not gonna say a word about any of this. I told you that I refuse to lose you and I mean that. You’re not going to be locked up in a jail cell the rest of your life or mine. But you have to promise me that you’re not gonna fuck around and keep doing this bullshit. I mean it, if I feel like you are killing anyone else..” He was grabbing her chin by making her look up at him.

“I’ll kill you myself. Now, go get stitched up before you bleed out.” There was a soft kiss pressed against her lips while he was standing straight again, walking out of the apartment to greet the other team members downstairs.

He left Y/N to stand there, mostly in shock.

What the fuck just happened?

[bestmusicalworldcup]

Best Opening Number Tournament - Full List of Songs

Due to the formatting of my spreadsheets, most of the songs listed here do not have the name of the musical they are from next to them. However, it is my intention that there is no ambiguity as to which songs from which shows are included, and if there is, feel free to send an ask.

25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee 30/90 A Comedy Tonight A Man Of No Importance A Rumor in St. Petersburg A Word to the Wise Alexander Hamilton And You Don’t Even Know It Another Day of Sun Anybody Have A Map? Backstage Babble Bah Humbug! Beautiful Blow Born to Lead Can't Wait Carrying the Banner Circle of Life Company Concerto in F Deep Beneath the City/Not There Yet Deliver Us Don't Stop Me Down in New Orleans Dream a Little Harder Every Story is A Love Story Everybody's Got the Right Ex-Wives Falsettoland/About Time Fancy Dress Fathoms Below Fathoms Below Finland Four Jews in a Room Bitching Frozen Heart Give Them What They Want Good Morning Baltimore Good Morning, Good Day Grease Half as Big as Life Hannibal Hannibal Happiness Heaven on their Minds Hello Here Right Now High School is Killing Me I Don't Know I Hope I Get It I Need a Life I Want to Be Impress Me In In the Heights Intermission Song Invocation and Instructions to the Audience It All Comes Back (Opening) It Sucks to Be Me It's Your Wedding Day Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats Just Another Day Just Leave Everything to Me Just Like it Was Before Leave Let There Be Light On My Feet Live in Living Color Live Like This (Opening) Madame Guillotine Madrid is My Mama Magic to Do Me and My Town Merrily We Roll Along More Than Survive Murder Ballad No One Mourns the Wicked O Virga ac Diadema Oh My God (You Guys) Oh the Things You Can Think Oh, What A Beautiful Morning One By One Opening (The Secret Garden) Opening Number (Tootsie) Overture/All That Jazz Overture/Food Glorious Food Peace on Earth Penser l’impossible Pieces of Lives Prelude Prelude: The Ballad of Sweeney Todd Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord Prolog (Elisabeth) Prologue (Little Shop of Horrors) Prologue (Great Comet) Prologue / The Day I Got Expelled Prologue: "Into the Woods" Prologue: Once Upon a December Prologue: Ragtime Prologue/A Warning to the Audience Prologue/Invisible Prologue/The Launching Road to Hell Rock Island Santa Fe (Prologue) Science Fiction/Double Feature Seesaw Sit Down John Spies Are Forever Superhero Girl Tear Me Down The Bells of Notre Dame The Forest The Greatest Show The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals The Old Red Hills Of Home The Oldest Orphan in the John Grier Home The Pajama Game/Racing With the Clock The Stars Look Down The Sweetest Sounds The Virginia Company There Will Be Sun There You Are There's a House This is Halloween Tina's Mother To Be Me Tower of Babble Tradition Tulsa 67 Untitled Opening Number Vérone Vuelie/Let the Sun Shine On Was für ein Kind We Are What We Are We Dance We Start Today We're in the Money Welcome To The Renaissance Welcome to the Rock What Are You Thirsty For? What Time is It? What’s Inside When You're an Addams Where is the Justice Wilkommen Willamania Work Song (Look Down) Worst Team Ever Your Day Your Day In Court

In addition, it is unclear which opening number(s) will be featured for the following shows:

Urinetown The Lord of the Rings Rent Ride the Cyclone

[anemhoez]

The Duke…

A/N: NOT ME JUST MEETING THIS FUCKER TODAY AND WRITING THIS! BARK BARK BARK! 😮‍💨

WARNINGS: rough sex, slapping, harsh language, handcuffs

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

(its just barely proofread, wrote it quick 💀)

———————————————

Wriot, please!” you exclaimed as your lover continued his brutal pace behind you. He chuckled and bent down, his hot breath on your ear, “Please what?” he gave you a small nip on the shell of your ear, the action causing you to wince slightly. He continued to thrust into you, not once breaking his concentration on pleasing you while you visited him from the surface.

You didn’t think a simple visit delivering papers from the chief justice would turn into this, but the second he saw you in your uniform, your cleavage exposed to him as you bent down to hand him the papers, he began to stiffen in his pants. He simply leant back in his chair, playfully twirling his handcuffs on his index finger, “How much time do you have, love?” And now your hands were bound with those same metal cuffs, behind your back so he could use your arms to pump into you that much deeper. “Fuck!” you yelped, this time your legs shaking under him as your peak neared. He sucked his teeth, slowing down as he felt your walls clench down on him, “I asked you already,” he growled, his large hand coming to slap your ass since you decided in that moment to disobey him.

Your peak was rounding the corner, you knew you didnt have much time before you had to get back to the court so you obliged him, just this time, to spare the lecture from Neuvilette if you returned late. The saliva that pooled by your mouth where your head lay stuck to your cheek in a long string as you lifted your head and turned to face him, “Please, Duke Wriothesley, make me cum,” spilled from your lips and he came in to kiss you. His tongue licking at your lips and cheek as he fucked you harder, the skin slapping sounds echoed through the room along with your whines. “Thats it, love, cum for me.” he whispered with a snarl as he felt you clamp down and let out a back arching scream.

“Wriothesley!” you exclaimed out, not caring for a second who could hear with the way he continued his thrusts until he too came. He grunted and grabbed onto the flesh of your ass, “Archons,” he huffed and heaved his chest with heavy breaths as his seed shot into you, “you’re so good for me Y/n.” You panted hard, turning towards him as he finally pulled out, tucking himself back into his pants. He came over to undo the cuffs, pocketing them and rubbing your wrists to soothe them. He watched you as you wiped at the mess on your face, “Maybe if you spent more time on the surface, you wouldnt be so desperate to fuck me every time you see me Wriot.” you teased while fixing your uniform and then moving closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He held you close, “Now wheres the fun in that?” he said in jest and gave you a gentle kiss right back. “Off with you now, before the chief justice gets his briches in a twist.” he dismissed you with a hard slap to your ass. You yelped at the contact and watched him as he sat back down and got to looking at those papers.

“I’ll remember that for next time Wriot, mark my words.” you said as you walked towards the door, turning back to him when you heard him clear his throat loudly, “I love you.” he said sweetly, his eyes looking at you with all the love in the world. The words caused your stomach to flutter and a wide smile to spread across your face, “I love you too, Duke Wriothesley.” you confessed and headed out, making your way back to work.

A/N: leave me the fuck alone 😭 idc if i just met him, i love him okay??

[ardentprose]

Absence Makes the Heart Grow....Fonder

A/N: I'm better at smut than I am fluff. Yet here I am blushing as if I didn't agonize over every delicious dirty detail. This was supposed to be a longer scene but it would end up as a novel so I split it into two scenes. If you want me to write the second scene after this one, let me know!

Type: shameless explicit smut; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+ ONLY; Foggy Nelson x fem!reader

Length: 3.3k~ | 15 min

Warnings: explicit f/m sex, explicit names for genitals; cursing; masturbation; Foggy in a suit deserves a warning; subtle dom!Foggy undertones if you were inside my head and knew that already; not beta read

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.

Summary: After a complicated court case extends your boyfriend's trip, you are desperate for relief. Try as you might on your own, nothing compares to Foggy's touch.

Good thing he just walked in the door.

You have no shame when it’s been this long.

It was meant to only be a week, but predictable complications with the justice system’s processes extended your boyfriend’s court case another seven days. Whenever he’s gone, you are left to your own devices. Quite literally.

Unfortunately, when you’re this riled up neither your toys nor your own hand is sufficient. Despite the countless times you have the privilege of riding his thicker, more dexterous fingers, you can never replicate the effortless patterns Foggy massages into your clit with just the right pressure to get you off.

Even worse, Foggy has been an outstanding partner while he’s been away. He dutifully texts you several times a day, whether it’s to ask how you are doing, share his thoughts on the case that stole him away from you, or send yet another selfie with his goofy smile and a thumbs up - along with what looks like a perturbed Matt Murdock - in front of some tourist trap in the current city he was in. His ability to ask you follow-up questions about passing comments you had spoken of days ago over the phone, his willingness to call you at bedtime because he knew you were anxious alone at night, and the sincerity in his tone when he admitted he wanted to stay in the hotel room and talk to you rather than go out for drinks with Matt — it was all innocent and very sweet of him.  It makes him such a kind, caring, and thoughtful partner.

It also makes him so fucking hot.

You don’t want to rudely dismiss his texts, so you’ve been keeping your licentious thoughts to yourself for days. In normal circumstances, a flurry of text messages would leave you frustrated with your phone pinging every time you neared the peak. Instead, it only served to edge you into desperation. You were left yearning for him more than ever. And he was absolutely to blame for it too, clueless as he was to your current predicament.

Sex with Foggy usually involved his distinct skill of making you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe and then making you come so hard you blacked out. Sometimes it was his five ‘o clock shadow whispering against your ticklish thighs. Other times it was because Foggy thought he was a stand-up comedian and liked to test out bits while fully seated inside you. He would pause to deliver a punchline and wait for your endearing giggles to distract you. Love-drunk eyes attentive to your face, he would bask in the moment your laughter evaporated into wanton cries of ecstasy as he resumed fucking you into the mattress without warning. It was his favorite method of unraveling you. You swear he’s trained you with sexual Pavlovian techniques that at this point, you couldn’t even get yourself off without his help.

You didn’t want to interrupt Foggy’s stream of texts rambling about how he found a quaint little cheese shop next to the airport this morning and that he bought way too much cheese and even found one that he thought you could eat as well as enjoy and that he might have been conned into a subscription box…

You didn’t have the heart to send him your current position on your shared bedspread, left hand buried deep in yourself. How could you admit how his sudden cheese rant had not only interrupted your deviant perusal on a private browser, but was also making you laugh so hard you couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand? The situation was becoming dire. Or downright embarrassing if you weren’t so determined to cum at least once on your own.

Hence, your shamelessly sprawled position on the bed, wearing Foggy’s boxers and one of his faded band tees when the front door opens with an audible click.

You scramble from the bed, hopping on one foot to untangle your ankle from the twisted sheets. Glad to be rid of your tireless, unrewarding solitude, your feet fly down the stairs towards the foyer without a second to lose.

Two modest suitcases make their way through the doorway first before Foggy’s hunched figure shuffles in after them.

Before he finishes locking the door, you’re bounding towards your travel-worn lover. No doubt hearing you thunder down the stairs, Foggy turns, tired eyes alighting. He drops the suitcase handle bar just in time to open his arms. You collide into his chest with a satisfying thump.

“Hello, my lo-“

Your lips cut short his greeting. The rest of his words are swallowed by your tongue reacquainting itself with his while your fingers crawl up his shoulders and tug on his hair that inexplicably feels longer since he’s been gone the past two weeks.

Twisting the blond ends before they unravel from your fingertips, your hands scope out his face next, coming down to cradle his fuzzy cheeks as the beginnings of a beard - something new he’s trying out (and achieving incredibly well) - burns your palms. Your thumb brushes over his chin, savoring the new sensation.

Foggy moves his lips in tandem with yours, and you can feel his grin as he squeezes your hips under his large palms in excited reciprocation.

Yet, he dares to pull back from your warm welcome, albeit licking his lips as he does so.

“Good to know I was missed.”

“You don’t know the fucking half of it.” You exhale.

Foggy’s laugh hitches as your hands tug on his belt and he stumbles into you.

“I have a feeling I’m about to find out.” He mutters, grabbing the base of your neck, fingertips on your chin in order to meet you halfway this time in another searing kiss.

You moan, responsive beneath the subtle weight of his hand on your throat and fully press your chest against his torso.

Foggy tries to keep the kiss going as he releases you in order to shed his overcoat, revealing a deep maroon suit beneath. The texture feels like butter and the waistcoat is impressive. The suit was no doubt another expensive investment of his fashion sense. He must have been striking to watch in court, commanding the room visually, however you cannot help feeling as you run your hands over his arms - that he’s wearing too much damn clothing.

“Baby, baby.” Foggy laughs, pecking your lips after each endearment. He tries to catch your wrists, halting your wandering hands that have managed to slip apart his belt buckle. “At least let me take you upstairs.”

“No.”

These past fourteen days were torture, made only worse by the unintentional edging from your fingers failed agility to keep a pace that would be enough to send you into bliss. You’ll be damned if you wait another second.

Foggy’s lips break and he finally acknowledges the lustful inferno of your gaze.

You grab his tie and yank him with a small yelp back to where he belongs, tasting your mouth as you devour his tongue.

“Here.” You speak against his lips. “Now. Please.”

Your hands unbutton his suit jacket, then slide into the jacket sleeves. The fabric drops from his shoulders, leaving him in his matching waistcoat. You reach for it but Foggy beats you to it, his thumbs deftly popping open the brass buttons before he sheds it, leaving him in a wrinkled, white collared button-down.

On any given day, Foggy is easily exhilarated by your affection for him. Right now? He’s beyond aroused by your demanding desire. Usually, things are much more coy between you two. A playful give and take that acts as foreplay until the teasing grows into touching. But here you are, hands pulling the belt from his slacks, desperate only to take, take, take.

If this is what two weeks away earned him, painful as it is to be away from you, he might be tempted to leave more often.

This time, Foggy steps into your space and reconnect your lips. Your fingertips skim the outline of his cock and whatever thought of leaving you alone again evaporates.

Foggy’s arms find your waist and become a vice.    He keens when you reward him with a firm squeeze. His hips return for more, pressing up into your awaiting palm while he backs you into the wall of the entryway.

The coat rack rattles as your shoulder smacks it. You barely feel it, though Foggy exhales an apology and slides you more to the left before your back finds the wall with a vague thud. His leg parts your thighs and you recoil from the wall into his chest, dropping a few inches to writhe up against the thick muscle beneath his slacks.

You turn your chin towards Foggy’s mouth, breath hitching into his own rapid inhales. Foggy presses a kiss into your chin, then drags an open-mouthed kiss up to your ear, full bottom lip leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Like a flower blooming, your head tilts in the opposite direction, opening yourself to your lover and basking in his warmth. He nips the crest of your ear, then placates the sting with a kiss.

You revel in Foggy’s kisses as they come back down your neck, his facial hair scraping against your skin deliciously. Your eyes flutter, overwhelmed by the sensations from his lips, teeth and tongue. Moaning, your thighs lock around his leg, and you grind your hips with more fervor.

Foggy grunts, keeping his thigh pressed against your body. He meets the upturn of your hips with his fingertips slipping beneath the elastic waistband of your- his boxers. He maneuvers his middle finger between your folds and up to circle your clit with an expertise that comes from familiarity alone.

With a shudder, your legs fall open as Foggy intended. His thigh now free, he adjusts his stance, keeping his wrist rotating and grinding against your pelvis so his free hand could shove down his pants and briefs,

The fabric curls around his thighs as Foggy slides his sensitive cock over the elastic band, hand growing slick from his own arousal leaking down the expanse of his dick. It should be alarming how fast you turn him on, but Foggy never hesitates to dive headfirst into your love with abandon every time.

With bitten lip, you eye the weight of his pulsating cock in the grip of his palm. Your hands fall from his biceps to tug his collared shirt up over his stomach. Bringing your nails down over the surface of his stomach, you scratch past his belly button to his happy trail. Foggy nearly whimpers and steps impossibly closer into your breathing space, removing his left hand from between your legs and lavishing his tongue over his glistening fingers like tasting icing from dessert.

“Please.” You whine, eyes threatening to water with how worked up you are from his ministrations. Foggy is no better, his own flushed skin and frenzied eyes making him look feral.

He draws his hand from his mouth, eyelids weighted with lust. His forehead comes to rest against yours, and his eyes meet your pleading gaze before flitting down.

Foggy takes the head of his cock and presses firmly against your clit. He hums a questioning tone, lips parting to ask consent.

You all but growl your assent, shaking fingers falling over his wrist to shove his cock into you. Panting into each others mouths as if the other will provide oxygen, your heads swim with the intoxication from his initial touch.

Foggy in turn grabs your face, squeezing your cheek slightly as his thumb presses past your lips. You nip him as he tries to guide himself in, careful of your comfort. The slow pace scrapes pleasure from your walls and ignites every nerve ending in your body.

Foggy just manages to slide his palm up behind your head, catching you just before you slam your head back into the wall as your hips curve, slotting him against your cervix. Your high and breathy whine harmonizes against his guttural moan pressed into the center of your chest.

Foggy brings his hips back just enough to slam them forwards, pinning you to the wall with each increasingly rapid thrust. Your arms drape over his neck, lackadaisical. Your legs jerk in his large palms which knead and claw and eventually lift you up further and further as he drives into you with relentless fervor.

Your breath punches from your lungs. You can hardly keep your eyes open past alluring slits that look down upon Foggy’s bitten, swollen lips, cherry flushed cheeks, and furrowed brow. Each thrust forces his hair to fall from it’s once professional, gelled back style. A few strands fall between his screwed eyebrows. You manage to lift a free hand to swipe the hair before it tickles his nose, curling it behind his ear and leaving your hand there to cup his cheek as you pull his face upwards to kiss you once more.

Your fingernails scratch against his scalp, his blond hair scrunched in your death grip. It will be tangled and knotted by the time this is over but that only means you get to wash it later, combing it out with an intentionally slow hand, sometimes tugging his head backwards so you can drop a kiss on his parted lips. Perhaps lick into his mouth and repeat another round late into the night.

Your lips curve into a private smirk, amused how even now, while being fucked senseless against the wall of your foyer, you’re still thinking of scenarios in which you and Foggy continue to have sex all night.

Foggy ends the kiss with a bite and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. His short nails burn your thighs as they creep towards your ass. His gold watch is a cold contrast against heated skin as he shoves you towards him again and again, beginning to fuck into you with abandon. He always gets aggressive when he nears his climax and you take full advantage, instigating in any way possible in order to drive him even more insane.

You anchor your hands in his hair and rock into his thrusts. His breathing escalates into strained exhales through clenched teeth. Then his eyes snap shut and his head rolls towards the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

You feel his abdomen spasm against yours as he comes. He leans into you, the length of his body pressing you into the wall and keeping you pinned there as his cock head twitches against your cervix.

You gasp into his neck. The heat of his seed and the jerky pumps of his wavering hips fray the last of your nerves. Black stars explode across your vision. Your throat seizes your exhale, releasing a strained cry as you arch into Foggy’s embrace..

Coming back up to cradle your head again, Foggy’s fingers scratch at your scalp. It’s the sting of his nails that gradually ropes you down to the material plane once more.   

You crumple into Foggy’s embrace. His dress shirt is now sheer with sweat. You eye his arms, appreciative of the biceps that have held you against the wall this entire time.

“You alright, baby?”

Foggy kisses your forehead three times, lips brushing your sweaty temple.

You can only moan, the last spasms of your cunt making him stumble slightly as he lowers your feet back to the earth - or rather, the hardwood of your hallway.

Your forehead lands on his chest, using the rise and fall of his breath to steady your own gasps. Your fingers tremble as they make their way up and attempt to curl around the loosened tie that is one wrong move from falling from Foggy’s shoulders.

Foggy brings his palm down over your sweaty hair, leaves a light squeeze at your neck, then starts to run patterns up and down your back. His other hand remains on your waist, keeping you stable, but you still feel the slight tremor of his own fingertips pressing into your hip.

Another moment of quiet passes before Foggy’s hand comes forward to catch your chin, tilting your face up to his searching eyes.

You give him a lazy, sedated smile, satisfaction shining in your eyes. It makes the corners of his swollen pink lips quirk up.

“Welcome home.”

Foggy’s lips part to respond. Before you remember moving, your own teeth are pulling his full bottom lip into your mouth and sucking it with abandon.

Foggy chuckles, moans, and attempts to break the kiss as you nip at his retreating mouth. , He finally presses against the base of your neck to hold you still.

Your pulse thrums to life beneath the weight of his thumb and forefinger brushing your clavicle. By the slight shake of his head and disbelieving smirk, you know you must be staring at him with those faux doe eyes that have inevitably brought him to his knees many a past night.

Foggy says your name, firm but expression gentle.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love making you feel good - and I plan on doing so the rest of the night,” Foggy bumps his forehead into yours and pecks your lips with a grin. “But I also just missed you. Seriously, how are you?”

Your pout bursts into a smile under his soft admission.

“I missed you too.” You nose at him, tempted to kiss that adorable grin of his again but resist. You squeeze his shoulders.

“I’m sorry if I came on a little strong, but I-“

Foggy cuts you off with his own quick kiss and pulls back with a smirk.

“Honey, you can come on me anytime you wish.”

“Foggy!” You roll your eyes, annoyed at how you laugh so easily at such a terrible joke.

“You just said you missed me. Don’t you wanna know how my day went before fucking me again?”

You relish the flicker of lust in his baby blues before Foggy shakes his head, trying to stay on task.

“Yes. Yes, yeah, definitely. I missed you and your voice and our apartment and I wanna know everything you were too lazy to text me.”

He says this while stepping away from you in order to adjust his pants over himself again. Then he turns to gather up his belongings that were haphazardly thrown to the ground when you pounced.

“Hey.” You grab his carry-on as you protest. “I’m not lazy. You just text full-blown essays that no one else has the time to respond to in matching detail.”

You yelp as he swats your ass, following you through the kitchen, towards the staircase.

“You said you liked my long texts. That I’m very thorough.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You snort. “I don’t think you can help your long-winded messages. It’s the lawyer in you.”

“Ha, ha. I’ve never heard that one.”

You turn on the current step, midway up the staircase.   

“Oh, Foggy.” Your smirk grows as he balks at your sultry tone, eyelids lowering and lips parting on cue.

“Don’t misunderstand me. I enjoy that mouth of yours and just how thorough it can be.”

Foggy eyes flit all over your form before meeting you against with such intensity your heart rate picks up.

“What can I say, you’re my favorite case study.”

“Come on!” You throw your head back, moment ruined as his boisterous laugh echoes against the walls.

You continue up the rest of the stairs. Foggy ventures up the rest of the way behind you with a self-satisfied smile dimpling his cheeks. He hits the landing just as you turn into your bedroom.

“If I’m your favorite case to study, how about a dissertation?” You call out of sight.

Foggy rolls his eyes, ignoring how his heart skips at your giggles.

“First of all, that’s not what they’re called and second-“

Before he reaches the doorway, you lean into the hall, top half devoid of the faded band t-shirt.

“Second?”

“Second….Fuck it!” Foggy drops his luggage once again.

“I’m about to have seconds.” Any response at his corny humor evaporates when Foggy darts forward, chasing your giggling, retreating form into the bedsheets for the rest of the night.

[homochihuahua]

Extremely Dark and possessive Jason, with a no bullshit kinda of attitude.

Jason comes back sick and twisted. Made even worse by Talia's manipulation and her assassin world tour. The difference is that Jason is pretty clear headed of it. The pit juices work extra perfectly on him, and instead of giving him bouts of uncontrollable rage, the pit recognised Jason's worth and extinguished him of anything that's standing between him and his darkness.

Jason still comes back to take control of Gotham's underworld. He still practised and delivered justice in the ways he saw fit. No final showdown with Bruce though, Jason now understood that if Bruce was willing to truly stop the Joker he'd had done it a long time ago. And thus, Jason makes sure to rid himself and his city of that bastard. With a bullet to his head in a nondescript location, making sure to burn his corpse too. Jason has a first hand experience with returning from the grounds after all, he won't take any chances.

And so Red Hood becomes this formidable entity in Gotham's underworld that the Bats can't really find anything about him. He keeps his distance too, no good will come from mingling with people who replaced him and moved from his demise this quickly. And he doesn't have it in him to enact a petty revenge on a teenager or his adoptive father figure anymore.

There's one thing Jason still wants from the Bats though, and that is Dick Grayson.

His poor younger self had the biggest crush on the golden boy. And he had denied himself from fear of rejection by his predecessor. Not that this new Jason cares of now. He's going to make Dick his. Force him to be Jason's alone...

Jason finds that guns lacks intimacy in their executions, and that's why it is his primarily method of justice. Because those people he kills, are so vile they don't deserve any closure or warmth in their final moments.

Jason finds that the only person he wants to share such intimacy is Dick.

That's why the Hood seeks out Nightwing regularly, exchanging blows and wounding Dick's perfect body with his jagged knife. Leaving marks of ownership on Dick's body.

The Hood becomes a sort of an alley and a nemesis to Nightwing. Even still their dance with blood still remains.

And due to it's constant presence, Dick becomes addicted to the pain that's practised on his body, by hands that gentles him before leaving strokes of blood on his body.

Sometimes when Dick is tired he just give himself fully to Red Hood's hands. His back to a wall, arms encircling Hoods wide shoulder, eyes behind the mask watching as his hands work on Dick's body. Cutting through his suite, leaving trails of seeping blood behind. It's a pain bordering on pleasure for him now...

The Hood offers to go back with him to treat those cuts, and Dick keeps on denying him. Enjoying their prolonged courting and this game they are playing.

What will happen when Dick finally agrees to let Red Hood in and close? When he eventually will take that helmet off then Dick will be greeted with the sight of a face he thought that is no longer there with them in this world? What will he do with those inescapable feelings?

[1960z]

tgaa 1: final thoughts

wow, I can’t believe I’m done!! that was a lot of fun I enjoyed it!

firstly with case 5, I definitely enjoyed it a lot, it did a great job at delivering on the mysteries and themes previously set up in case 3 which I loved. gina was a great defendant, I really did care what happened to her. the court discovering the blood on the coat almost made me sick.

while I maintain what I said in this post about preferring singular witness testimonies/cross examinations, I gotta say the multiple witness model was used expertly here too. it was so cool to notice gregson doing weird shit without it explicitly being pointed out to you, have it end up not being super relevant in the moment but it all coming back in the final stretch. I loved that.

I do think it got a little long winded by the end — like I felt kinda lost in the sauce at the point where the jurors decided gina was guilty based on ryunosuke not being able to 100 percent prove graydon and gregson struck a deal, even though he DID prove graydon’s testimony was completely bogus, so they really didn’t have much reason to think she’d done it by that point. also the whole cat flap felt a little silly and contrived to me I can’t lie — but it did at least serve a decent display of susato’s mental state and feelings towards the justice system at the time which was cool.

also weird thing to bring up maybe but I think this game has the best credit sequence in the whole franchise. it does the whole “what are all the characters up to now” that the other games do of course but when the transition to… idk what you’d call it the “secondary” credits occurs, instead of just having them scroll on a black screen they basically have ryunosuke walking through his arc of the entire game, picking up and leaving behind various characters he’s met along the way. it was cute as hell and weirdly emotional. I loved it

as for the game on the whole, I did really enjoy it! honestly I think it does take a little longer to get into than with other games, especially with that second case, but the set ups and pay offs that come once they’re in england and the ball really gets rolling are definitely worth it and the intrigue for the second game is set up nicely.

learning that both games were initially meant to be one big game made a lot of the decisions made here make sense, this definitely feels like part one of two and not necessarily a story that can stand completely on its own which, on the whole I’m not sure about how I feel about that decision. aa4 kind of did the same thing and because it didn’t end up getting the kind of sequel initially intended, it suffered for it and I keep envisioning some nightmarish alternate timeline where the same thing happened here. but I mean at the end of the day that’s not what happened. not only are there two games I practically get to experience them as one anyway on account of the collection. so I really can’t complain too much. so excited to dig my teeth into the second one I plan to start it very soon. that vague spoiler I alluded to knowing about actually seems to be explored in this game and not the first like I had assumed so… very excited to see what the fuck is happening there!

[mariacallous]

Apple has been ordered to pay €13 billion ($14.4bn) of unpaid taxes to the Irish state, in a court ruling that ended a decade-long fight between Europe and the big tech company.

In a judgment handed down on Tuesday, the European Court of Justice (ECJ) agreed with a European Commission ruling in 2016, which found that for a period of more than 20 years Apple enjoyed illegal tax advantages that constituted state aid from the Irish government.

“The Court of Justice gives final judgment in the matter and confirms the European Commission’s 2016 decision: Ireland granted Apple unlawful aid, which Ireland is required to recover,” the court said in a statement.

“Today is a huge win for European citizens and tax justice,” Margrethe Vestager, the European competition commissioner, said in a statement on X. “Ireland granted illegal aid to Apple.”

The Irish government said that it will respect the decision of the court, and points to it being of “historical relevance only”, claiming that it dates back to revenues in 1991 and 2007 which are “no longer in force,” because it introduced changes to its tax regime. “The Irish position has always been that Ireland does not give preferential tax treatment to any companies or taxpayers,” the government’s statement read.

Dr Stephen Daly, a reader in tax law at King’s College London, says he is “stunned” by the decision, which has come after a lengthy back and forth legal battle that saw the European General Court find in Apple’s favour in 2020.

“I really didn’t see this coming,” Daly says. “I thought the Commission’s path to victory was incredibly narrow because it suffered some big defeats in similar cases against Fiat and Amazon. I thought this would be the same outcome. I’m also stunned because this is the biggest tax case in history: €13bn—which will be more than €14bn when interest is added on—will have to be paid back.”

The case relates to tax deals the Irish authorities struck with Apple in 1991 and 2007 to encourage it to headquarter two European subsidiaries in the country. Other companies were not offered the same favourable terms, leading the European Commission to accuse Ireland of giving Apple a “selective advantage.”

Ireland has long come under scrutiny for allegedly providing a tax haven for US firms. During his last stint in the White House, current presidential hopeful Donald Trump namechecked the country in a speech in which he vowed to bring “trillions of dollars” in tax revenues back to the US.

“For too long our tax code has incentivised companies to leave our country in search of lower tax rates,” he said in 2017. “It happens—many, many companies. They’re going to Ireland. They’re going all over.”

According to Daly, the ECJ decision is “not good for Ireland.” “Ireland has always tried to position itself as a country that provides generous tax rules but rules that are fair,” he says. “This certainly has harmed Ireland Inc.”

Chiara Putaturo, an EU tax policy advisor at the charity Oxfam, which is engaged in a long-running campaign against tax havens, said the judgment “delivers long-overdue justice after over a decade of Ireland standing by and allowing Apple to dodge taxes,” adding that it “‘exposes EU tax havens’ love affair with multinationals.”

However, Putaturo said that while Ireland will be forced to recover the €13bn from Apple, the case has not outlawed the use of so-called “sweetheart tax deals” in the EU. Notably, in the Fiat and Amazon cases, which were decided in 2022 and 2023 respectively, the ECJ ruled that similar deals struck in Luxembourg did not amount to state aid.

[whimsywandererech]

Total Drama Headcanons!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello there Tumblr reader ! Well I'm quite new to Tumblr so please try respecting me first before I say please follow me later on because I have huge ideas on these headcanons because it would help A LOT ! Thanks :3

Alejandro Headcanons

1.Alejandro possesses a unique talent for beatboxing, delivering impressive beats even when no one is present.

2.He enjoys cheesy romantic comedies and sheds tears at happy endings.

3.Alejandro enjoys experimenting with gourmet cooking and creating culinary masterpieces in his free time.

4.Despite his tough exterior, he's a softie for cute puppies and frequently volunteers at animal shelters.

5.Alejandro and Heather perform karaoke duets, transforming mundane nights into unforgettable performances with their powerful vocals and dynamic harmony, leaving the crowd in awe.

Beth Headcanons

1.Beth is adept at executing elaborate pranks using her chameleon-like abilities.

2.She is a shady science enthusiast who enjoys experimenting with gadgets and conducting unconventional experiments in her leisure time.

3.Beth, despite her shy demeanor, is a fierce competitor in gaming tournaments, dominating with her strategic mind.

4.She is a discerning snack enthusiast, always seeking out unique and delectable treats to surprise her friends.

5.Beth's ultimate goal is to become a passionate wildlife conservationist, dedicated to protecting endangered species worldwide, she wished she could do that but sadly she didnt have the chance to participate world tour.

Blaineley Headcanons

1.Blaineley is a renowned social media personality known for her glamorous lifestyle and controversial opinions.

2.She is a dedicated camping enthusiast who finds solace in the wilderness away from the spotlight.

3.Blaineley's secret talent is her opera singing, which leaves audiences in awe with her powerful vocals.

4.She is a confident vintage fashion collector, showcasing a wardrobe filled with rare pieces from various eras.

5.Blaineley aims to host a talk show, captivating viewers with her wit and charm, bringing drama and entertainment wherever she goes.

Bridgette Headcanons

1.Bridgette is a dedicated marine biology enthusiast who spends her time exploring the depths of the ocean and studying its diverse creatures.

2.She is a talented musician who uses her ukulele to create soothing melodies that captivate the waves.

3.Bridgette is a reliable friend who provides genuine advice and support to those in need.

4.She excels in beach volleyball tournaments, despite her laid-back demeanor, showcasing precision and skill on the sand courts.

5.Her dream is to establish an ocean conservation center, educating others about the significance of marine life protection and ocean preservation for future generations.

Coutney Headcanons

1.Courtney is a confident and strategic leader who effortlessly takes charge in any situation.Even though most people thinks that she sucks at it but she still believes that shes good at it.

2.She is a secret adrenaline enthusiast, enamored with extreme sports like skydiving and bungee jumping to satisfy her adventurous spirit.

3.Courtney, despite her tough exterior, has a soft spot for DIY crafts, dedicating hours to creating handmade gifts for her friends and family.

4.She is a dedicated fitness enthusiast, consistently working out at the gym to maintain her physical fitness.

5.Courtney aspires to become a successful lawyer, harnessing her passion for justice to advocate for her beliefs and make a positive impact on the world. She might get out of control because deep inside she wants to sue all of her enemies.

Cody Headcanons

1.Cody is a tech genius, adept at hacking complex codes and creating revolutionary programs, showcasing his bright geeky side.

2.The individual is a passionate film enthusiast, a knowledgeable movie trivia expert, and hosts epic movie marathons for his friends.

3.Cody, despite his nerdy background, is a breakdancing enthusiast who skillfully performs moves that challenge his stereotype.

4.He volunteers at animal shelters, demonstrating his compassionate side by loving and caring for their furry companions.

5.Cody's ultimate fantasy involves traveling the world as a tech travel blogger, sharing his unique experiences and spreading geeky positivity globally.

DJ Headcanons

1.DJ is a culinary genius who creates delicious dishes that tantalize the taste buds, blending each bite with a symphony of flavors.

2.The individual is a talented pianist who delivers soulful melodies that captivate audiences and transport them to a different world.

3.DJ, despite his size, is a skilled dancer who moves gracefully and fluidly, captivating audiences with his rhythm.

4.He is a nature enthusiast who finds peace and serenity in the outdoors, connecting with the earth and its beauty.

5.DJ envisions establishing a community center to mentor and inspire young people through his culinary skills, music, and passion for nature.

Duncan Headcanons

1.Duncan, a renowned graffiti artist, creates intricate street art that narrates tales of rebellion and freedom in the city.

2.The individual is a skilled skateboarder known for performing daring tricks and stunts that showcase his fearless attitude on the streets.

3.Duncan, despite his stern exterior, possesses a remarkable talent for poetry, composing raw and emotional pieces that reveal his underlying emotions.

4.He is a skilled craftsman who creates custom motorcycles, showcasing his unique style and mechanical prowess in each ride.

5.Duncan aims to establish a youth center, providing a creative outlet and sense of belonging for troubled teens, utilizing his rebellious spirit for positive change.

Eva Headcanons

1.Eva, a fitness expert, consistently exceeds her limits through rigorous workouts and training sessions, leaving others in awe of her strength.

2.She is a renowned rock climber known for her unwavering determination and fearless attitude, showcasing her exceptional skills in challenging peaks.

3.Eva aspires to establish a self-defense academy for women, empowering them to defend themselves and thrive in a world valuing strength and courage.

Ezeikel Headcanons

1.Ezekiel is a skilled woodworker known for his intricate pieces that showcase his skill and connection to nature.

2.The individual is an exceptional organic gardener, renowned for his vibrant fruit and vegetable cultivation, demonstrating a strong commitment to sustainable living and farming practices.

3.Ezekiel, despite his rural background, impresses with his unique poetry style, capturing the beauty of the countryside and the simplicity of farm life.

PART 2 COMING SOON !!

The more likes the more i can do !!

[a-sin-to-be-rin]

What Have They Done?

Tim expected to find a serial killer. No one told him anything about superhuman strength.

---

They don't have a name for him. Not officially, anyway. He’s been sneaking around Gotham, killing people left and right. He's careful but brazen, leaving behind no fingerprints but always pinning the victim to the wall with steel knives and leaving a bloody message beside them:

BEWARE THE COURT OF OWLS.

So at this point, they call him the Owl Fanatic. Birdbrain, sometimes. Damian once referred to the killer as “MP.” (“It's short for Member of Parliament, Drake,” Damian had explained, rolling his eyes. “Groups of owls are called parliaments, so a member of the Court of Owls would be an MP.”) This did not catch on.

But regardless of what they call him, he's strong, dangerous, and smart. It's a bad combo for a criminal, especially when there's yet to be a surviving witness.

So when Tim is cornered by a guy with eerie round goggles and knives strapped down his chest and up his back? When the guy says in a dead monotone, “Timothy Drake, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die,” and charges at him?

Tim is pretty sure he's going to die.

Throwing a smoke bomb, Tim grapples up to a bell tower and engages his comm. “Red Robin to Cave. Requesting immediate backup to Gotham Cathedral.”

Oracle is in his ear immediately. “Cave reads you, RR. Batman and Robin are on their way. What's your 9-2?”

“Owl Guy is at it again. And he knows my name.”

“... your real name?”

“Affirmative.” Tim dodges a knife, and it just barely misses his ear.

“Hood’s in the area. I’ll send him too. Standby.”

Tim tries his best to stand by. It gets tricky when the owl man gives up on ranged attacks and goes in with a ferocity to rival a starved tiger in a petting zoo. With a blade in each hand, he delivers a flurry of attacks, going for Tim’s head, his chest, his hands. Tim keeps up, blocking each attack with his staff, but only barely.

“ETA?”

“Five on Hood. Ten on B&R.”

Tim jumps back but earns himself a graze across the cheek. “Any chance there's someone closer? Spoiler or Batgirl or- I know Signal is a morning guy but-” He's cut off by the owl man’s vicious overhead swing. He has to brace the staff with both hands, feeling his shoes slide back from the force.

“Spoiler and Batgirl are still covering Blüdhaven.”

Right.

“Signal’s at the Cave. It’d take even longer for him to get there.”

Tim doesn't have time to be disappointed. He's too busy trying to keep his head attached to his shoulders. He's blocking and dodging so much that there's no chance to even get a hit in, much less hurt the guy.

“Is this a Justice League-level threat?”

“No.” The answer is automatic, though Tim wishes he could say yes. This guy isn't slowing down for anything. Without backup, Tim may lose this one. “Just tell everyone to hurry up.”

“Copy.”

Tim ducks a sword slash, sweeping his staff out in the same motion. But rather than fall, Owl Dude backflips away.

And that's when Tim is overtaken by the sense that something is not right. The owl person’s fighting stance. His lighter-than-air defensive strategy. The build, the height, the fighting style. It's all familiar. (Impossible, but familiar.)

“Who are you?” Tim demands, landing a blow to Owl Guy’s stomach but instantly retreating before a sword cuts him down the middle.

“Timothy Drake,” he says, which definitely isn't true. “The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.” And then he's back at it, kicking and swinging and fighting with the strength and speed of a metahuman. Tim considers that this may actually be a metahuman, but he doesn't have long to think about it before a blade catches his thigh, carving a deep wound across the front.

Tim stumbles. He tries to fight through it, but the best he can do is defend. The best he can do is survive. At the beginning of the fight, at his best, Tim couldn't do much more, so now, with a heavily bleeding leg, Tim is feeling particularly helpless.

The owl man knows this. He raises the blade over his head for the killing blow.

And then a bullet tears through Owl Guy’s skull. He pauses, then topples to the ground.

“You good, man?” Jason crouches beside Tim, eyeing his bleeding leg warily. “I keep telling you guys to carry guns, but nooo. No one listens to me.”

“Who… Who was that guy?” Tim scooches over to the dead man and pulls off his goggles and hood.

“No,” Jason murmurs.

Tim swallows back bile, shaky fingers hesitating over the face. Over the familiar cheekbones and distinct nose. Over the undeniable lips and angled jawline.

Tim is staring at the corpse of his missing brother.

The first, immediate difference, however, is his eyes. They look similar, sure. The patterns of his irises remain the same. But what was once blue is now a deep yellow. Almost amber-like.

His complexion is different too. The warmth is gone, leaving behind a chalky pallor. Like he’d been dead for weeks.

“Fuck,” Jason mutters over and over. “Fuck, I… Shit. I didn't know it was… I didn't mean to… Fuck.”

“What happened to him?”

“I shot him in the head,” Jason says, voice tight. “That's what happened to him.”

And then Tim realizes that Jason hasn't looked at Dick since Tim pulled the mask off. He saw the face and had to look away.

“No,” Tim insists, batting Jason’s leg with his free hand. “Look. Dick doesn't look… There was something wrong with him before you… before he died.”

Begrudgingly, Jason crouches down, tilting Dick’s head with a frozen reverence, searching for abnormalities. “He's cold already. And what’s…” He scowls, pushing Dick’s hair aside to find the bullet entry wound. It’s rough. Circular. Almost normal-looking.

Almost. Because the dark red welling in the hole isn’t dark red at all. It’s black.

A brief check of the other side of Dick’s head confirms this. The exit wound is oozing black goop.

“What could turn someone’s blood black?”

Tim has no answer. He just holds out a hand. “Look, just help me up, okay? He got me pretty good, and we need to figure out how to tell Bruce.”

Jason nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He starts to stand when a knife embeds itself in his shoulder. “Wh-?”

Tim isn’t sure if the head rush is from blood loss or emotional turmoil.

“Timothy Drake. Jason Todd. The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.” Without the hood in the way, Dick’s voice is obviously his. But as he staggers to his feet, Tim has to wonder what kind of monster this thing is. What kind of creature can take on Dick’s appearance and survive a bullet through the brain?

There’s no time to ask questions, of course. Dick grabs his swords and slashes at Tim. Adrenaline thrumming, Tim jumps to his feet and limps back, just missing the blade. Jason recovers much quicker, emptying a clip in Dick’s chest.

Dick doesn’t even flinch. He flips over Jason’s head and cuts across Jason’s back. He knocks Jason down with one boot to the knee and lets Jason slam into the rooftop.

“Hood!” But Hood doesn’t stand up. Dick turns, yellow eyes flashing, and stalks towards Tim. He knows Tim is injured. He’s taking his time. Playing with his food.

“Shit. Oracle. Cave. Do you read??”

There’s a hissing, so loud that Tim doesn’t hear what Barbara says over the comms. And it doesn’t matter what she says, really, because Dick has fallen to his knees, hands clawing desperately at his chest. Then the strength leaves his eyes, and he lands solidly on his shoulder.

The hissing doesn’t stop, freezing air continuously directed at Dick. It’s Bruce, finally arriving with what looks like a cold gun in his hands. He passes the gun off to Damian and approaches Tim.

“Keep pressure on your leg. Get to the Batmobile.”

And then he’s gone, shaking Jason’s shoulder.

Tim gives Dick one last glance before grappling down to the car.

---

Bruce might have expected this. He should have expected this.

… well, he expected half of it, anyway. He correctly identified the killer as a Talon of the Court of Owls. He properly incapacitated the Talon.

But he never expected it to be Dick.

The clues were there. Dick going missing, no trace left behind. Dick’s family history with the Court of Owls. The murderer being intimately familiar with Batman’s patrol route and everyday operations.

Maybe Bruce really didn't expect it. Or maybe he just didn't want it to be true.

But here's the proof, right in front of him. Dick Grayson in a containment chamber, the air hazy with frost. He's slumped against the wall, watching Bruce with half-lidded eyes.

(Eyes once so bright and hopeful and determined. Now warped into the sickly yellow of a predator.)

Bruce holds the button of the intercom. “Who are you?” Because Bruce must exhaust all possibilities. (Because Bruce really doesn't want this to be true.)

Dick’s expression is unchanged - drained and confused. “B-B-Br-Bruce W-Wayne…” he stutters. “Th-The C-Court has… The Court h-has…” He doesn't finish the thought, the cold slowing him so severely that he's barely aware of anything.

“Who are you?” Bruce presses.

“Talon.”

“What is wrong with him?”

Bruce sighs, looking over at his youngest. “Damian, go help Alfred.”

“Alfred is finished. Drake and Todd are recuperating. I’m here to help Grayson.”

Bruce snaps. “You can't-!” And then he cuts himself off, trying to keep calm. “You can't help him,” he says quietly.

As expected, Damian takes this poorly. “There's always a way,” he bites. “What did they do to him, Father? Why is he…?” He waves a hand at the containment unit.

“You're familiar with the Court of Owls?”

A scoff. “Of course. You taught me about them.”

“And you know about their champion soldiers? Their assassins?”

“The Talons.”

“Right.”

Bruce doesn't elaborate. Damian puts the pieces together but is, understandably, baffled.

“So Grayson is a Talon? That's what you're saying?” He sniffs. “Talons aren't human. Grayson is.”

He’s sporting a fair bit of denial there, considering Dick is currently trapped in a small box pumped full of liquid nitrogen and has yet to choke and die, but Bruce tries to give him grace. “I didn't say they aren't human. I said they're inhuman.”

“Same difference,” Damian snaps. “Grayson isn't a Talon.”

“We ran tests, Damian.” Bruce kneels so he's at eye level with the boy, but Damian looks away. “DNA from the skin cells are a perfect match, but his blood… It's not blood, Damian. It's electrum.”

Damian won’t look at him, arms folded.

“The Court of Owls has been reanimating the dead with electrum for centuries. Dick… We need to do more testing, but… odds are good that Dick died a while ago. The Court killed him or found him dead. Either way, they swapped his blood with electrum. He's not… He's not himself anymore.”

This time, when Damian speaks, it's tense. The words barely squeak out of his mouth. “So he's gone. And he's not coming back.”

“Not the way he was. We might…” He shakes his head. He’ll discuss this with the others later. This is not a conversation to have with a child.

Bruce stands, staring at the sunken figure in the containment unit. “Let me know when Jason and Tim are awake. We need to talk.”

---

“You gave me a concussion, you know.”

“J-J-Ja-s-son T-”

“I mean, I shot you in the head, so I guess I’ll give you a pass. Just this once.”

“The… The C-Cour-”

It's hour forty-two since they found Dick. Not much has changed.

“Bruce said you're stuck like this. Physiologically, you're… He said there's no coming back from it.”

And silently, Jason hates the Court all the more. How dare they. How dare they take his brother and-”

“I know you want to kill us,” Jason continues. “Which is new for you, but I get it, I guess.” He sighs. The cold of the containment unit's glass makes his back numb, but Jason stays where he is. It's the closest he can get to Dick without inciting violence. “Bruce thinks we might be able to undo the psychological effects. Remind you who you are. He's probably being optimistic for Damian’s sake, but…”

“J-Jason.”

Jason waits for the “Todd, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die,” but it doesn't come.

“We’ll keep trying,” Jason swears. “We’ll get you back. I promise.” He turns around, trying to judge Dick’s expression.

Dick is staring at him. Maybe he's been staring this whole time. “J-J-Jas-Jason.” He doesn't try to say the rest.

“I know,” Jason says sullenly. “I know. Just hang in there.”