#maybe i'll enjoy nocturne more spaced out

[fionainlove]

Tbh as much as i loved the fight sequences and a few moments funny moments, on a whole nocturne felt kinda flat story wise. I absolutely would've taken 4 episodes of build up over 8 over stuffed episodes of hype bc i didn't really share most of the emotional beats the show was throwing down to the point where I'm more nervous than I am hype about season 2. And I wanna be hype!! I love this show!! But idk if the writing is on the same level as season 1 then 🤷🏾‍♀️

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

WHAT IF a Dracopia that hunts like a house cat bringing you a mouse 'cause he just loves you sm

GIRL YES THAT'S SO CUTE

also sorry this took so long, i was traveling. but i'm back now and i hope u enjoy !! <3

masterlist.

warnings/things to note: no pronouns used for reader, mention of bood (it's the mouse's), possibly autistic Copia, fluff

word count: 546

In all honesty, you hadn't realized Copia was a vampire until after you two got together. Which was fine with you at first, thinking he was going to be more of a Twilight Edward Cullen vampire and not... well, whatever he was. You didn't really mind that, though; it was just a bit unexpected.

When he suggested that you both share a living space, you were a bit hesitant as it was common sense that vampires were nocturnal creatures. However, you could never resist his cute little pleading face.

The first few nights were normal, except for the fact that he was a sleepwalker. It took some getting used to, but eventually it became one of your favorite things about him. Things were moving along well, and you thought nothing of it when he slipped out of bed, mumbling to himself as he wandered into the kitchen.

Until the mice started to invade.

You could hear a few of them scurrying in the walls while the both of you fixed dinner for yourselves, causing Copia's eyebrow to raise in suspicion. He said nothing, returning to the pot of boiling sauce for your dinner.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, neither of you wanting to bring it up as exterminators could get pricey and money was tight.

When you went to bed, he stayed awake holding you close to his chest in a protective manner.

"What? Scared of the mice?" You teased, to which he scoffed.

"No, amore. Don't worry about it. Let's go sleep now, yes?" He purred into your ear, pressing feather-light kisses to the back of your neck.

You sighed softly in contentment, slowly drifting off into the realm of dreams.

A few hours later, you heard Copia sliding out of bed. Nothing new to you, as you thought he was sleepwalking again. Then came a little rustle out in the living room, and soon enough you heard Copia's feet pitter-patter back into your room. What you weren't expecting, though, was a small thud of a dead mouse on your lap.

You bolted upright with a scream. "Copia, what the hell?!" You glared at him but were only met with his face in an expression pure joy.

"I caught one for you, amore! I finally got one!" He said, sounding like a small child as he clapped his hands happily.

You blinked, looking down at the mouse carcass in your lap. He'd already drained its blood, which made sense to you as he was a vampire (obviously), but was still disturbing nonetheless.

"I... for me? Is this just a- another vampire thing that I don't understand?" You asked as you lightly picked it up.

He shrugged. "I got it for you, amore. Oh- don't mind the, um... bite marks, I got thirsty."

"O-Okay, um... my dearest, ehm- thank you so very much for this, I'm speechless... but maybe we should... not bring them into the bed?" You tried to reason with him, to which he took a step back and thought.

"Yeah, you're probably right like always, amore. Mi dispiace," he chuckled sheepishly and took the mouse from your hand. "I'll take care of this..."

And with that, he ran off into the kitchen again, mumbling to himself with a slight giggle.

~~

i hope this was what u wanted and sorry if it wasn't 😅

[neutron-stars-collision]

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - Nocturnal Animals

Masterlist; Chapter 2

Summary: Desperate for a scoop (and a pay rise), you scout Gotham for anything of interest. When you cross paths with the mysterious Drifter, you decide to use the chance to spark up a fruitful cooperation.

Warnings: Swearing.

Author's Notes: ... Hi *waves*. Yes, that's a new series because it seems like Rob's characters tend to make themselves at home in my head. I wanted to develop Bruce a little more and this idea came to exist quite quickly. Reader is a journalist in need of a topic, Bruce is out on the streets... and the rest is history :))) Slow burn as always since that's my specialty (apparently).

I hope you'll enjoy this introduction and I'll greatly appreciate feedback!

The only pretty thing in Gotham during the fall was the way neon lights reflected in the puddles of the alleyways and street corners. The myriad of colours and slogans tinted the darkness with a sense of something bigger than the wet tarmac and slippery pavement slabs. Only, that light did not get everywhere, creating niches in the city’s fabric, where no ray of hope could ever permeate. That is where the crime skyrocketed, no matter the season. That is where scoop and intel were found. Conveniently.

Adjusting your hood for the umpteenth time, you frowned as another cold drop of rain slid inside your coat. In October, even waterproofing hardly did its job; especially one four years old and long past its prime. But it did not matter. Your eyes restlessly scanned the surroundings, mindful of anything that could be of interest. Because while murders in Gotham were hardly the breaking news type novelties, a serial killer on the loose, seemingly connected to the city’s elites, was quite the concept. A case to crack and the potential of a pay rise. Something you could not deny yourself, considering the tightness of the pockets and emptiness of the bank account. In short, you needed to find something worth writing about. Something worth covering by the GC1. Or else… No.

There was no time for that. Having made it to the docks, you stopped, hiding underneath the roof of an abandoned warehouse. The last victim had been found here, stabbed multiple times with an unidentified weapon. Potentially – a meat hook. Which did sound lovely, you had to admit. Having left the apartment that evening, you were led with the idea that maybe back at the crime scene, you could discover crucial evidence everyone had missed. Now, drenched, tired and disheartened, you realised how wrong you were. There was nothing left aside from the rain, the murky water by the docks and the foul stench of trash and urine. The police had cleared everything.

With a resigned sigh, you took a quick round of the area, taking photos with your phone. Apart from a few unidentified objects lying on the ground and rusty spots you could hope was the residual blood, there was nothing.

“Fuck,” a soft curse escaped your pursed lips, ringing out in the quiet alleyway.

Finding absolutely nothing meant another stressful debrief in the morning. And you have had enough of those already. With the mind half-focused on the idea of heading back home and drowning the sorrows in a glass of cheap red wine, the unmistakable roar of the chopper pierced the ambience and made you look up.

At the sky first, using the instinct whole of Gotham had acquired throughout the last few months. Because once the signal had been lit no one could rest easy, watching the shadows with anticipation of what came next. But tonight, the light was off. The masked vigilante, the Bat-Man, Vengeance… there’s been many names and even more theories about his identity. No one knew when he appeared or when he left the scene. Having heard rumours, you held your breath until the black motorcycle appeared on the horizon. It was not him. Or at least it did not look like it was.

Your target parked the vehicle on the opposite end of the warehouse spaces. You observed, hidden in the shadows, as the man took off the black helmet and stood up, quickly pulling up a black hood over the head. He was moving with purpose, throwing a non-descript backpack over his shoulder and heading towards the abandoned building. With curiosity, you watched as he kicked open the chained door and disappeared inside with the clank of metal. Now that was a way of investigating you had not thought of yet…

For a moment, you wanted to follow him, to satisfy the curiosity as fast as possible and (hopefully) get some answers. But then reason kicked in, with yet another sigh, you backed into the shadows, waiting for the stranger to return. After all, no one sane would leave a motorcycle like that unattended for too long. Once he appeared fifteen minutes later, you were ready. Keeping away from the light, you skirted around the area and approached him without making a sound. A handy chat-up line on the tip of your tongue:

“Visiting the crime scene, are we?” once the man looked up at you with surprise evident in the abruptness of his reaction, you grinned.

Even with the flickering streetlights, it was hard to make out his features. You could see sharp edges of the jawline, slightly crooked nose and wide eyes, their intense stare intriguing.

“Who are you?” his voice was hoarse as though he was not used to speaking.

The sharp edge to the vowels told you the stranger was not easily intimidated. Yet your appearance was unexpected. His lips were pursed as he stiffened, clearly bracing himself against what would come next.

Perhaps he was the case you could crack…

“I could ask the same question, Mr…?” leaving out the opening, you waited for a beat before adding in a faux disappointed tone, “I see. Well, I can’t blame you for snooping around this case is quite the sensation” making sure to drop the bait, you watched him closely.

There was no apparent reaction. The man threw a nervous look towards the alley’s exit and then glanced back at you. As your eyes adjusted to the half-light, you could see more of his face. The chiselled features and fascinating eyes drew you in despite caution. Yet you still did not know who it could be. He did not look like your usual thug or a drophead, and you would bet he was not one of the Falcone’s. So… who?

“What do you mean?” your internal ruminations got cut short with a simple question.

The enticement worked. Pasting on a mysterious half-smile, you stepped closer to the stranger and lowered your tone to a confidential whisper:

“The usual… Corruption, Gotham’s finest… perhaps some revenge to trigger it all and… boom” with pleasure you noticed that the man seemed transfixed on your story “Here we are. I wonder who’s next” it was a simple deal, two people wanting something out of the conversation.

A game you were willing to play. Even if to understand more about the case and the mysterious drifter. Something shifted in his eyes, acceptance replacing the previous uncertainty. An agreement had been reached without either of you laying out the terms. Feeling an inexplicable rush of adrenaline, you awaited the question as the man thought hard. Once he looked up again, you allowed yourself to stare at him intently as he asked:

“Do you think the killer is after the people in power?” the innocence in his voice made you throw a cheeky grin to the mix.

For whatever reason, you felt like extending the conversation if he was willing. The rain and damp clothes faded into the background as you eyed him closely, thinking on the next move:

“Sure looks like it. You’ve been mapping the area from the roof, weren’t you?” it was the obvious conclusion, so you decided to run with it, “Found anything good?”

The more you observed him, the less everything made sense. The dark streetwear, muddied motorcycle, and how he moved, like a fighter, a nocturnal animal. Yet he did not seem dangerous like a criminal. Before you could run on with the ideas, the man replied:

“I’m not sure” the hint of caution made you frown.

‘Not sure’ wasn’t an applicable answer. Ignoring the pang of disappointment, you bated your eyelashes once your gazes locked and chose to voice the let-down:

“That’s a shame, I could do with some scoop” slight reveal of the identity in hopes he would follow.

But it was for nothing.

“You’re a journalist” it was his turn to measure you coolly.

Mindless of the interest burning bright, you raised an eyebrow, mirroring his judging stance with an aura of theatricality:

“That wasn’t a question,” another telling stretch of silence, making you add with the familiar tinge of bitterness “Yes, one of the hyenas, as some say” the cold had caught up, making you shiver and helping to make up your mind “Well if you don’t want to help me, I better get going” you sized him up one last time, the traitorous part of your brain hoping you could meet again.

Why? Because if there was anything you loved more than a good scoop, it was a mystery. A puzzle to crack. Something to motivate and drive you forward. He was an enigma you wanted to decode. With a parting shrug, you moved to turn away just as he spoke up:

“You shouldn’t be wandering out alone at this hour. It’s dangerous” oh.

That was new. A personal touch to an exchange of information between strangers. Turning towards him again, you noticed with a surprise that he reached up to remove the hood. As the streetlight hit his unobscured face, you tried hard to look away yet found yourself unable to. There was something hauntingly beautiful in the blue of his eyes and the tightly set jaw. Pain written onto the features that could not be wiped off with a mere smile.

But one could try. You scoffed, choosing to armour yourself in humour to deny the maelstrom in your head:

“And the sky’s blue” the repartee waiting for a punchline you delivered while looking the man point-blank “Or black,”

It could have been an illusion (or wishful thinking), but his lips twisted in the faintest of the smiles. There was no time to verify it. In a flash, he was putting on the helmet and turning the engine on, disappearing with a spray of water from the puddles.

Alone again, you grinned. There might’ve been no intel, but there was something else found tonight. A different sort of mystery.

***

Closing your umbrella with a groan, you pushed open the door leading to GC1 headquarters. The complaint was always the same – how come a leading tv channel in Gotham doesn’t even have an automatic set of doors? Funding cuts apparently.

It has not stopped raining since last night, puddles deepened, and the mood grew dense as the city descended into yet another circle of seasonal depression. As with most things, even that was extreme here, making an ordinary citizen keen to commit murder if it meant having one cloudy day without rain. Sometimes you did consider doing just that. And today was not any different. Your steps grew heavy as you neared the office, your mind unable to focus on anything that was not him. The stranger. It made no sense. But he was there every time you closed your eyes, every second you drifted away from reality. As though in a dream, you passed through the familiar maze of cubicles, knowing the path to your desk by heart. Only once you reached the spot, falling into the chair with a groan, you did acknowledge the surroundings. Sophie, an acquittance of convenience occupied the cubicle next to yours, her keyboard clicking with aggression. A scowl on her face. With curiosity, you peeked over her shoulder, an innocent question accompanying the movement:

“What are you working on?” noticing a fat pile of newspaper clippings on her desk, you frowned.

With so many current affairs and scandalous murders, barely any attention had been given to the past. Yet it seemed like that was precisely what Sophie had been assigned. She acknowledged your appearance with a nod before flipping through a couple of pages without attention:

“A column about Wayne. I know, I know, the man’s a cryptid, but-” she waved a hand dismissively as you cut right into the sentence, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

“What? The Wayne?” the intonation that once used to make you laugh, now commonplace in your dictionary.

Because, yes, theWayne was a cryptid. And yes, writing about him was a task nearly impossible given he appeared in public once a few years.

Ignoring your paralysis, Sophie threw you a sceptical glare and picked up one of the clippings, putting the newspaper directly in the line of your eyes.

“Yeah. The boss said it’s been long since-”

As soon as your gaze landed on the black-and-white photograph on the page, everything faded into the background. He did not look the same when wearing a crisp white shirt and a tailored suit, but there were no doubts left in your mind. Even if it made no sense whatsoever. Mindless of Sophie’s protests, you tore the page out of her hand to examine the photo closely. Same features, same dark hair, same eyes. But-

“That’s Bruce Wayne?” your hand shook as you set the clipping back on her desk, aware of the waver in your voice.

“Yes, why- You look like you’ve seen a ghost” Sophie fixed her curious eyes on you, noticing how blood drained from your cheeks.

Without giving it too much thought, you got up from the chair and picked up the bag you had just set on the desk. There was only one thing you needed to do. Everything else be damned.

“I did” grinning at her puzzled look, you waved your hand, “Bye, gotta go” without waiting for an answer, you set upon the journey back through the maze.

Work had to wait. The blue eyes flashed before yours as you took out the phone and checked the next train that would take you to the Wayne Tower.

***

The initial bravado wore off when you approached the tower, gaze landing on the massive steps with apprehension. At the very top, you could see the heavy wooden doors with a brass knocker and a more modern doorbell button with a golden plaque above. As though massive letters on the top of the building weren’t enough. You took a deep breath as you eyed the fortress, unable to concoct a plan that had any chances of working out. Because another thing everyone knew about Bruce Wayne was that he never allowed any visitors. And yet you also knew that you could not give up, having joined the dots. A final long inhale. Let’s wing it. What could go wrong, eh?

As you reached the set of doors on top of the staircase (and rolled your eyes at the said plaque), you plastered on a confident smile on your lips and pressed the doorbell button. The ringing pierced the silence, making you involuntarily flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake? The doubts descended over your mind as your feet started itching, legs shuffling to fulfil the fleeing instinct best they could. With half the brain already eager to bolt, you barely registered when the door creaked open. In the newly created gap, stood an older woman in a weirdly old-school maid uniform. She eyed you closely, never losing the pleasant smile that seemed fixed to her face.

“Good morning, Miss” her smile widened as she asked the innocent question, “What brings you here?”

A good one, you had to admit. Stifling the increasing uncertainty, you beamed back, rushing out the words one after another:

“Hi… I, um- I’m here to see Mr Wayne” your tongue stumbled over the surname, unused to the sound.

Never in a million years, you would have expected it to happen. And yet there you were.

“Have you got an appointment?” her smile faltered as she increased the scrutiny, hand tightening on the handle, ready to slam the door in your face.

Only one way out of it.

“No… But he’ll know who I am” hopefully “Think he’ll be happy to see me, actually” an addition to charm the woman into letting you in.

The logical part of your brain knew that he would not be happy. Quite the contrary, probably. But that did not change the needs. So, you strengthened your back and took an experimental step forward as though already confident of the outcome.

“I’m not sure-” she hesitated, the pleasant smile nowhere to be seen anymore.

C’mon. Another step towards the door, one hand reaching out to touch the wooden surface. A likeable face expression put on like a mask. Seeing a shadow of conflict pass through her face, you added:

“Please?” the puppy eyes that had earned you a few ins when it seemed absolutely beyond the realm of possibility right on hand.

Before you had to search the arsenal for more weapons, the woman replaced the uncertainty with a weaker version of the lovely smile as she took a step back from the doorway.

“Oh, all right” she opened the doors wider for you.

A passing desire to hug the woman had to be abandoned for now.

“Thank you” instead, you gave her the brightest grin available and took the liberty of having a look around the hallway.

The interior did fit the expectations with stone pillars, a wide mahogany staircase and hand-embroidered carpets laying on the floors. But it was evident everything had long expired from its glory days. Upon closer examination, you noticed the chinks in the balustrade and the old stains on the carpet. Mr Wayne did not care much for his family’s legacy. But then, you knew better than anyone that material objects did hardly matter when contrasted with life’s tragedies.

“Here, Miss,” your thoughts had been interrupted with the woman showing you an entrance to a vintage elevator, “Mr Wayne is upstairs in the study,” she added as you stepped into the cabin.

She shut the metal crate and pressed one of the buttons on top of the list. The elevator creaked to life and began a slow ascent with the accompaniment of metallic clutter. With curiosity, you studied the floor plan, noticing how only the upmost levers seemed to be in use, for the buttons were worn out from the regular touch. The elevator could also go below the ground floor, but the levels lacked numeration, adding to the interest and occupying your mind with possibilities until the cabin came to a standstill with a groan.

Your stomach was tied in a knot before you even stepped out of the elevator. And for a good reason, as you soon understood. There was barely time to register the surroundings as your eyes got drawn to the gothic arches and large windows showing the cityscape of Gotham laid out beneath the tower.

“Dory, who is this?” the familiar voice rang out from the side, making you whip around in a flash.

Two discoveries: the woman’s name is Dory, and Bruce Wayne doesn’t enjoy having surprise guests.

You did not dare wait for her to introduce you, instead took a step closer to the man and grinned with the simplest of questions:

“Remember me?”

Sure, hope he does. Using his moment of hesitation, you let your eyes wander over Bruce, immediately noticing the dark circles underneath the bloodshot eyes and scarred forearms, revealed by the old, oversized t-shirt. He was not the man you saw in the newspaper photograph an hour ago. It was the stranger you talked to the previous night. Seeing the flash of recognition in the blue eyes made you release a shuddered breath.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me” Bruce shot you a glance before motioning for Dory to leave the room.

He seemed much less confident without the veil of anonymity and darkness, protecting him from knowing stares and judgement. The awkward movement and slouching posture nothing like the man you met less than 24 hours beforehand. But it was the assumption that got you, emitting an honest scoff you did not bother hiding.

“Oh, come on… How could I not?” you stared him down with disbelief, the head still soaking up the reality of the situation and recalibrating to fit the new needs.

With a start, you noticed a flash of surprise in his eyes before he turned away, staring at the cityscape. The wall had been put up, and there would be no more peeking. For now.

“What do you want?” Bruce’s back tensed as he asked the question, apprehension and frigidity filling every syllable.

Immediately you understood what it was – a public persona, the Bruce Wayne everyone thought he was. Cold, rich, and distant. Only, you knew that was not the whole picture. The memory of his faint smile from the previous night flashed before your eyes as you offered him a one-word response:

“Information” that simple.

You were not sure what that came from or why it became the reason for your rash decision to visit him. But it seemed to make sense. And that was better than giving up.

Because forgetting didn’t sound like a viable option.

“Isn’t that your area of expertise?” the sharp edge in his voice was accompanied by a side glance full of disregard.

As though he wanted you to surrender and leave him alone. Little did he know of stubbornness and persistence… Using the room as your stage, you quickly closed the distance to Bruce and placed yourself in the line of his sight to accentuate that he would have to listen. A sweet, knowing smile on your lips:

“It seems like it’s yours too,” you threw the remark, pushing onwards before he could think of a rebuttal, “Never in a million years I would have guessed it. The prince of Gotham scouting the streets at night and investigating the crimes. And yet” with interest you observed as his confidence wavered and he dropped the gaze to stare at the floor.

You had lied out the issues perfectly. Now was the time to reveal the terms. But before you got that far Bruce raised his head and began:

“If you want money-” the contempt in his voice did strike a chord, making you frown and drop the act for a split second.

Karma for negotiations with the rich bastards, huh? For a moment, you wanted to scoff and tell him where he can put that money in the plainest of terms. However, you still needed him to agree and cooperate. So, instead, you offered him a warning glare and replied in a measured tone:

“Don’t be a jerk, Mr Wayne. I just think it’s no coincidence we’ve stumbled upon each other, and we could use it to our advantage” noticing the glimmer of curiosity in the blue eyes, you allowed yourself another step closer, resting your hands on the back of a dark wooden chair “Here’s what I suggest: you’ll let me work with you, we’ll share the intel and whatever tips we get our hands on” it probably sounded better than it could function.

To hell with reason. There was that rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins again. Making everything brighter and sharper. Because if it worked out… You did not dare hope that it could. To keep your hands from shaking, you gripped the wooden frame tighter, awaiting the response.

“What will I get from this?” this time, Bruce’s voice was devoid of spite.

In its place, you detected genuine interest and determination. Although it was difficult to admit, you were not that different. Each driven by their own needs and ambitions, desperate to make it work, no matter the cost. Alone.

Your mind got stuck on that word, making your mouth follow its logic by saying:

“A friend?” warily, you met his gaze over the table; his walls were up yet you could still see a shadow of recognition “And a promise that I won’t pry into whatever it is that you’re doing. I won’t write anything about you or our cooperation. It’s going to be our secret” concluding the pledge breathlessly, you knew the earnestness could not be hidden from your eyes.

It was there, making your heartbeat speed up and your hands shake. You never believed in destiny or fate, yet somehow, everything that happened since last night felt like it could be one of those. Like a plan devised by someone else in charge. An opportunity you did not dare let go of easily.

“All that for information exchange?” Bruce’s question caught you by surprise as he added, eyeing you closely, “You must be desperate,”

It was his time for scrutiny, a chance to take apart the protective armour and see what you were made of. You met his inquisitive gaze, showing a degree of loneliness in your eyes and the extent of dedication. Just so he understood. And then you shrugged, letting a genuine smile bloom on your lips:

“Aren’t we both?” not expecting an answer, you allowed yourself a longer look at his face before throwing the conversation off its profound grounds “Listen… It’s not like I’m trying to bribe you into a marriage of convenience or other such bullshit” on its own accord, the thought entered your mind.

Marriage of convenience? Now that was an idea you’d rather not delve into. Where the hell did that come from? Sure, he was not a dapper gentleman you always expected him to be, but he certainly was not ugly either. Stop. Ignoring the urge to shake your head and stop the ridiculous train of thought, you found a distraction in the subject of the mess.

There it was again, the not-quite-smile from the previous night. As soon as you spotted it you grinned, feeling an inexplicable sense of triumph deep within your heart. Because it did seem like he was capable of smiling, and that discovery alone felt like a victory.

“I’m glad” Bruce rolled his eyes, evidently trying to distract you from the observation.

He still had a lot to learn.

“Me too, sweetheart” your smile widened as he visibly froze at the nickname, “So… what’s the verdict?” there was no point in dancing around the subject.

You relaxed the pose, making it seem like you did not care, all the while holding in a breath and feeling the pulse speed up in the veins. Everything depended upon it. Or it seemed like it did. Bruce met your gaze warily, conflict visible despite the veil in how he had caught the bottom lip between the teeth, worrying the fragile skin. Despite yourself, you glanced at his mouth, feeling the warmth spread over your cheeks because of the act of looking alone. It had been too long.

You mentally slapped sense into your brain exactly when Bruce broke the silence:

“Fine,” he spared a final look at you before wandering off to gaze out of the windows.

A clear signal. Despite the cold response, you grinned, unable to process the feelings filling every corner of your mind. You would make the best out of the situation. You had to.

“Great,” letting the quip slip, you added, “I’ll talk to my sources about the docks’ case, and I shall be back” there was a promise in the sentence that you could not deny yourself.

Even when knowing that it was only you that felt excitement at the prospect.

“Fantastic,” Bruce sighed heavily, for once not hiding the myriad of feelings aroused by your suggestion.

He still had his back turned to you, expecting your imminent exit. You did not want to disappoint, so one last, selfish look had to do. Your eyes slipped over his form, the broad shoulders and the worn out clothes, looking out of place in the grand study. And yet all of it was his, the master of the house personified. A mystery to crack.

You could not deny yourself the pleasure as you turned towards the lift, aware you could not even see his reaction. It did not matter.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna love it, darling” glee made your heart summersault as you stepped into the cabin with a final remark, “I’ll let myself out,”

For once, the rain outside did not matter.

[angelz-dust]

spare thoughts on dick grayson and nighttime, ma'am?

dick thrives at night, for obvious reasons. he's nightwing, protector of blüdhaven. on the nights where he's just dick grayson, though, that's a different story. he can rationalize not going on patrol for a few reasons. a prior engagement, pursuing leads or an injury. at least he's doing something (or in the case of an injury, he can't do anything) but when he's just at home, doing a whole lot of nothing by choice, he gets restless. he has to keep moving, keep himself busy. he will find something to do and it will not be a leisure activity. that is the last resort. if he has no choice, he'll find a game to play or a movie to watch. he won't exactly hate it, but he isn't enjoying himself, either.

going to bed is even worse. he just won't. not immediately. he'll need something to aid in the process. some tea or melatonin pills. even then, he's fighting sleep like a toddler. he'd much rather be out on patrol fighting, but he'll settle for resisting his body's natural function. when he does end up sleeping quality is a toss up. sometimes he'll just sleep like a log until the morning, other times he's tossing and turning, maybe even waking up a few times throughout the night. it's far from ideal.

dick might as well be a nocturnal creature. getting him to sleep even after a night of patrol can be difficult. he's always hopped up on adrenaline, not ready to give his body a break. unless he's on his deathbed, he's awake. even after stripping out of his suit and taking a shower, that man is wide awake. it drives you crazy because you'd like to cuddle up with him and go back to sleep. you never get used to waking up at the crack of dawn. seeing him sweetened the deal but not by much.

"richard..."

"i'll be in the other room. go back to bed."

you didn't want him in the other room. you wanted him in yours. in the bed. sleeping. not sitting up on the couch, watching tv with a bowl of leftovers in his lap. that usually ended with him knocked out after a couple hours and you with an empty right side of the bed. it was the same when he didn't go out. he'd get up in the middle of the night and leave you in the bed by yourself. you understood, but it didn't make it any less lonely.

there were some nights where he was completely exhausted. his body overworked, more so than usual, a bit banged up. just tired in every sense of the word. you, selfishly, loved those nights because it meant he'd stay put. no tossing and turning, no sneaking out in the middle of the night. just him, snoring softly against the pillow and his heat radiating next to you. you never touched him during these times, giving him the space you assumed he needed. not that it mattered much. you always ended up tangled up in his limbs by morning, anyway.

[leboutique-lily]

Class

》Jimin x dancer!reader

▪︎Summary: The joys of having a little dance studio at home in the late afternoon, you decide to give yourself some time there and Jimin happens to come home right on time.

▪︎Warnings: basically none, kisses, some teasing words, nothing much for now.

▪︎Author's note: I couldn't hold back my dancer ass, so there's a bunch of ballet technicalities and some classic composers, I'm sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

I just needed to write this to get it out of my head, maybe I'll do it a second part with some good stuff in it.

Plié

Hold your core, knees out.

Grand plié

Keep those hips in, firm elbows and light hands. Melt like a dripping champagne all the way down and firm those feet to get up. How many things do you have to think to do a plié? More than you could imagine.

Check your en dehors, open your hips and knees, push those pelvic muscles up and keep your core engaged. Head follows the fingers of a very soft and delicate hand, and a lot more things that could fill a whole page. Oh! And breath. Very important.

All this was going through your trained head, while you started you barre after warming and stretching your muscles and joints deliciously, at home. You've got yourself a mini ballet studio, mirrors on the walls, a good brown linoleum floor and a soft grey color on the details of the room. It was light and calming, it was your safe place.

You didn't dance as a profession, but you loved since you could remember, you felt most at peace when you did. All the problems going way in the moment you put your leotard on. That was your place.

Jimin got home and was welcomed by the soft notes of Chopin's nocturne. 'Plié ' he tought, he knows how much you love that nocturne to start your exercises, it's been a week of you using only this piece to warm your body.

He couldn't resist and slowly, very silently went to your studio, opening the door enough to see you graciously going to your fifth position in your back open royal blue leotard, voil white short skirt and your beloved flats. My my... he loved seeing you dance, you look so beautiful- even more -your posture perfect, your lines soft and precise... He's beautiful ballerina.

He stays there watching you, not wanting to disturbe your moment. You only notice eyes watching you when you're at the end of the left side of your jetés, being too engrossed on do the steps right.

"Is my audience enjoying?" You say with your back to him, pushing your feet up to your knee in a passé and balancing on the other leg in a demi point. If you saw the smile that formed in his face... you certainly would've melted. No option.

He enters the room barred foot and in a flash he's behind you, holding your waist while your arms stays in fifth position up your head in a pretty round shape.

"Beautiful" you hear and feel his whisper in your ear, making you close your eyes to not fall from your position.

"Jimin, don't distract me..." you whisper back to him, his hands getting a better grip on your waist to turn you to him. Now that you're face to face with him, your arms forgotten in his shoulders and your legs still in passe, he proceeds.

"But baby, I'm helping you. See... we're working on your balance." Then you feel his plump, pillowy lips on yours and you forget about your position, legs going limp in his arms.

"Uh uh... back to balance baby. You were doing so well." He dare to smile, no... smirk at you after securing you on your center again and grabbing the side chair to seat down and watch you some more.

You nodd your head at him in disbelief, this man is such a tease... all you want to do is throw him on the floor and ride him till complexion, his lips are so soft and he smells so good- His voice brings you back to present in a teasing tone.

"Y/N-ah... you have a whole class a head. Come on, show me those beautiful lines baby." His fingers playing with his lower lip, he knows what he's doing to your mind and your body and he enjoys it, so much.

You muttered a 'fine', pouting at him and preparing yourself for the adage. He choose Schubert, a melodic slow piece and you hope that he can behave.

You take a deep breath and get yourself together for the mental journey that is the adage, this thing is not easy people.

Everything seems to be going just fine, you're going through the positions and holding your tempos nicely, Jimin is seated there transfixed on your lines, his eyes loving and attentive of every movement you do.

Once you're done, you're almost at the end of the barre and you hear a "gorgeous" in a soft tone coming from his heavenly lips. He has this power to make you feel like the best, like the most beautiful girl and the most beautiful ballerina in the world. You don't need a full audience, you just need him watching you... you can dance for him for the rest of your life and don't get tired, ever.

The feeling is mutual, he feels like he can watch you dance for him, even if it's just a barre, a class... for days nonstop. He loves to see you dance anything for him, the way your body move by memory and yet so gracefully, the way he can see you soul in every tiny thing you do inside that studio, on stage... it's his favorite thing.

You smile, eyes shining in love with him. God! You just want to squish his cheecks and kiss the hell out of him at the same time. This man...

You go to the last part, the allegro. Listen, adage is slow and difficult... but you hate allegro with every fiber of your body. So much. Its fast and precise, wich is nice... but you never were very fond of it.

And Jimin knows it. The cute, lovely vibe is gone as soon as he notices that the end is here and that means the part you dislike. So your considerate boyfriend gives you some Stravinsky and you laugh at him knowing exactly what he's doing.

"Come on baby, I know you prefer what every normal human being hates, your precious adage, but I like it fast. So be good, uh.."

You scoff, eyeing the boy who's smiling provocatively at you.

"You sneak into my class, disturb my attention and make demands? You're not my teacher baby."

"But you love when I am." His smirk grow when he sees your cheecks blushing. You close your eyes and leave it be because you know you can't beat Jimin at his own game. The flirty quality run in his blood.

He play the music and your legs go flying beautifully in your grand battlements. You're not lifting to high because you wanna take slow and gentle today, not wanting to exert yourself to much, but Jimin's not having it.

"Baby we both know your legs go much higher than that - His words referring to your extensions inside and out of the ballet class - here, let me help."

Suddenly you feel him at your back, one hand on your waist and the other extended at your side, waiting for you to lift your leg and place it in his hand. You know that the rest of your class is ruined now and really hope it is indeed. You place your leg on his hand and he start to lift higher and higher until you can see it right beside your face, almost touching your ear. The strech feels good, his hands know how much he can push you.

"See... - his hand travel from your ankle to the back of your knees and your inner tigh - so much better. Hold it, baby"

As fast as he was at your back, he's gone to his chair again. You slowly lower your leg and turn to look at him, his eyes playfull and waiting for your words.

"Can you help me cool down baby? I think I'm done for today." You ask him innocently.

He get up and walk to you, standing behind you again and guiding your movements, slow and gentle to cool off your body, his eyes never leaving yours and his lips brushing your skin here and there a few times. You let out quiet hums and moans at the stretches and the feeling of his hands massaging your muscles, his fingers expertly working on your neck and softly descending to your arms, finding place in your waist and your hips and you relax, nestling your head back in his chest with your eyes closed.

He brings your body closer, no space between you two now and you can feel something against your ass.

Seems like your little moans has made someone happy, so you decide to have some fun and arch your back as if you're doing one more strech and press your ass against he's hard cock. You hear him inhale and feel his hands tightening on your hips.

"Thank you baby... you're great!" You say turning and giving him a quick kiss on those plump lips and go to the door to take a shower leaving Jimin standing in front of the mirror looking at your reflection.

Oh no... you're not gonna leave like this. Before you can comprehend what is happening, he grab your hand and push you back, taking a hold on your waist and lifting you from the floor.

"Jimin! What are you doing?!"

You place your arms around his neck to secure yourself, his eyes holding a mischievous desire, then he places you on the bar fixed to the wall, going for a little bite on your lower lip.

"I'm not done with you baby, we have a long way till the end of this class."

🌸

[plutojones]

An Evening Chat

Summary: Andie and Byrnjolf have a chat about the events involving Mercer, Nocturnal, and what lies ahead of them.

Andie sits on the hill above the Nightingale's Hall, near one of those strange, old standing stones. A daedric cultist lies on the ground some paces away, an arrow sticking out of his chest. With her legs bent and ankles crossed, she stares at the night sky. The only light illuminating her form is that of the stars and large moons in the sky. She's wearing a simple blue dress and brown leather shoes, having left her armor back at her home. Her night-black hair, while usually pulled back into a tail or braid, is currently left loose around her shoulders, reaching all the way past her chest. She holds a brush in one hand, running it through the hair, using her other hand to help work through the various snarls and rough patches the brush comes across. She nearly drops the brush, however, when she hears the sound of someone's voice from beside her without any warning.

"I thought I might find you out here, lass." Brynjolf flashes her a smile, still wearing his thieves' leather, hood pulled over his head. "Everything alright, or did you just come here for the air?"

Andie sets the brush down in her lap, shaking her head. "Little warning next time, Bryn. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days." She reaches over and pushes his hood down, revealing his long, ginger hair in the moonlight.

"Where's the fun in that?"

She gives him a deadpan glare.

"What? I need to keep you on your toes. Just because you're Guild Master doesn't mean you get to start slacking off."

"Uh huh. I'll keep that in mind next time I debate whether to sneak up on you while you're enjoying a drink."

"Oh come on, lass. You wouldn't do me dirty like that."

"I wouldn't?" She raises an eyebrow with the question. The two stare at each other for a few moments before Brynjolf shakes his head, looking away. "That's what I thought."

There are a few more moments of silence as they look out across towards the rooftops of Riften and the night sky above it. Eventually, Brynjolf breaks the silence again, looking back at Andie.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Me?" She looks over at him with a concerned expression. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well... I know this wasn't exactly easy for you. I mean, Mercer was part of the family for so long. To find out what he did, and then what he did to you in the ruins, making you fight Karliah-"

"I remember what happened." He raises a hand to stop her from continuing.

"And?" She thought to herself, but she remained quiet, waiting for him to continue on his own if he so chose. There are a few more moments of quiet before he sighs and looks back out towards the rooftops and the skyline.

"Looking back, thinking about what Mercer said to you in the ruins, I can't help but think he sent you to Goldenglow to die. I was so worried when you left. I believed in you, I did, but if Vex couldn't even do the job, then..." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "And then, he took you to kill Karliah. Not me. You. I told myself it was because if anything happened, he wanted me to take over in his place. But then why not take Delvin? He spent time with the Brotherhood. Certainly had more experience than you did." He pauses again, still keeping his gaze from her. "When he showed up without you, I thought maybe he was wrong. That maybe you had survived. I scoured those ruins high and low looking for a trace of you, but you must have already been up in Windhelm. Then we heard of you in Markarth, and... you know the rest, lass."

Andie is quiet for a few moments, just watching him, trying to give him space and time to think through his thoughts. When she feels she has a moment to speak, she reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. It's okay."

"It's not okay." He turns to look at her, blue eyes locking with her own steel grey ones. "After all that, I thought 'finally I can help her', 'I can be there for her'. Then when we found him, he did, whatever the hell he did. Not only couldn't I help you, but I was also making it harder for you. You shouldn't have had to fight him on your own. You shouldn't have had to return the key on your own." He reaches up towards her, hesitates, and then sets his hand on top of the one she placed on his shoulder. "You shouldn't have to do any of this alone. I'm going to do my damndest to make sure the guild runs smoothly whenever you're away. Assumin' you still want me as your right hand."

She tilts her with a smile, expression clearly written across her face 'of course you idiot'. Shaking her head, she slips her hand away from her and back to her lap. "You're the best of the best. I wouldn't pick anyone else. Now-" She shifts to stand up, dusting herself off. "-I think it's gotten pretty late."

She waits for a beat before looking down at him with a smirk.

"Wanna rob a shop or two?"

He returns the smirk and pulls himself up onto his feet. "Do you even have to ask, lass? Lead the way."

[mister-maiden]

Pikmin 3 Is a Wonderful Gem

Pikmin 3 was one of my most anticipated games for the Nintendo Switch. I didn't have the good fortune of owning a WiiU, so I never got to experience the third game for myself. After spending 60 dollars on the title, fixing myself up for a long weekend, to my surprise I beat the game in two days...but was I disappointed?

Absolutely not. 

Gameplay: Pikmin 3 forces you to take control of three captains who had crash landed on the planet of PNF-404, a planet encompassed with dangerous fauna, familiar faces, and delicious fruit. Using the captains to form smaller groups of Pikmin, you can effectively multitask across each of the diverse maps available. 

Several puzzles force you to use this feature by giving you the ability to flung captains alongside Pikmin, effectively allowing you to reach new areas both high and far. This ability is best used with small groups performing tasks across the map. Having one captain destroy a gate while another keeps charge of pikmin harvesting berries. Meanwhile you can have your final pikmin harvesting the corpses of enemies to make even more pikmin! 

In this regard, you can play in anyway you want. If you want to keep your pikmin together to keep an army of 100 so you may overpower all in your path, you are certainly free to do so..you may just be hurting a bit on time in comparison to if you divided and conquered. To add onto this, there is a familiar special ability which allows you to split your army apart into the specific elements at your disposal so you can clearly choose the best group for the job.

The objective of the game as you quickly find out is to gather as much fruit as you can to bring back to your home planet of which is having a rather serious issue: starvation. So you'll be looking in every nook and cranny for each piece of fruit you can find to juice and bring back home. 

The fruit are finite, and each gives you a specific amount of juice for fruit. Some fruits have enough juice to give you two days worth of sustenance while others barely give half. It is certainly a welcome change from the first game's finite time limit. It allows players to be rewarded for how well they are performing instead of giving them a deadline. This is a huge gripe many had with the previous installments as well as other games with a similar time limit (Dead Rising comes to mind)

Alongside the fruits, powerups lay hidden amongst the maps which give you certain abilities. I won't dive into this as not to spoil it for any of you new players, but all I'll say is it is worth it to check every corner. To retrieve these treasures, you will have to use a specific amount of pikmin for each item. You can use a bit more than the maximum per treasure to make the journey back to the ship far more quicker. During this time, I recommend traveling with your pikmin so none shall perish to the random hazards of elements and enemies that may have slugged in the way of the path. 

With a lot of multi tasking and pathing involved in this new installment, it seems the developers worked more with the pause menu. A map allows you to see the areas you have explored and seen, marking a small green blip for each creature you spot. This was done intentionally so the player would be unaware of what lay in a path and to determine their best plan of action. To walk through the shorter parh with several blips and pray they are not too dangerous, or go around. A new feature with the mapping system also works alongside how you will be controlling three captains. You can now go to your map, scroll to an area, and press where you would like your captain to walk to. This will trigger whatever captain and pikmin group you have selected to automatically path to the point you selected. This allows for large scale multitasking in which you can have two captains traveling to destinations while your third deals with an entirely different task. A very welcome development for people such as I who want to use their time as wisely as possible.

Combat is roughly the same as the previous installments: overwhelm by sheer number while also avoiding the attacks that have a potential to wipe your armies. Picking the right pikmin for each battle is crucial...but to be honest I felt like this game gave me a bit too much leniency for making mistakes. For instance, there wasn't too much punishment for throwing an incorrect pikmin at an opposite element. You can just whistle them before they perish and all will be okay. Maybe it's my new game wisdom I have earned from thousands of hours of gaming, but I don't remember pikmin 1 being so easy.

Pikmin 3 also brings back the system in which you can slay your enemies...and use their bodies as mulch to grow your garden empire upon.

Your empire is stored in a pikmin bulb! In previous games you would have several bulbs, each being a different color representing the different pikmin types. In this game, there is only one bulb which is chromatic and swirls with different colors. Although I miss the triple pikmin bulb threat and getting violent/white pikmin from the ship, this is a welcome change since it allows the player to quickly populate a group instead of wasting time going to each bulb. 

You can carry the corpses of creatures you kill with your pikmin to their bulb to create even more pikmin! It's always been my favorite part of the pikmin games because it rewards you for playing intelligently and conservatively. 

An interesting development from Pikmin 1 and 2 to this new game is the replacement of the C stick directing agility of the pikmin to a new ability which allows you to send your pikmin forward all at once with a ravenous screech of war. It's great to quickly swarm an enemy, or to feverishly collect fruits and other valuables by surrounding them. While I shall miss the previous agility to accurately create a tendril like construct with my pikmin, I absolutely love the new battle rush!

Each pikmin, as the previous games, have their own situations they are best in. Reds are best at fighting situations, when things get heated up. Yellows for digging and reaching high spaces. Blues are good at swimming...yeah. Then this game introduces two new pikmin at the cost of two of the previous types introduced in Pikmin 2. Stone pikmin and flying pink pikmin replace the fat sumowrestler purple pikmin and toxic white pikmin. Stone pikmin are best when cracking open the defences of enemies or crystal rocks found around the maps. Hell these are my second favorite pikmin because of how they attack. Rather than use their leaves utop their hard heads, they just RUN INTO the enemy as hard as they can. It's amazing. Then my favorite: pink pikmin rule the sky..though they are the weakest in combat (though never underestimate the swarm >:] ) you can have up to 100 total of a combination of the pikmin. My personal favorite is 20 of each, as something special happens as you walk with them.

Spicy berries and bombs make a return in this game. Shrouding your pikmin in a special dust created by the planet's berries gives them a special buff that lets them go mad with energy, moving quickly and hitting harder. What's important in pikmin 3 is that the berry mechanic is much different than the previous games. This game allows the process to be automated. Berries are grown back in minutes, so pikmin can constantly move back and forth from the ship to the plant to harvest more juice in comparison to the previous games where once you harvested a berry plant, it was done for the day.

Bombs allow you to do 'tons of damage'. Throwing a pikmin with a bomb makes the pikmin drop the bomb and run in terror to avoid the massive blast. These are typically used to take down the toughest of obstacles- be it wall or wild creature, nothing shall stand in your way.

These bombs allow you to go forward so you may find shortcuts to shorten your time traveling...and now the final feature I would like to mention is the time system. Each day you are given a specific amount of time to explore the map before day changes to night...and the nocturnal predators awaken from their hungry slumber to feast. Before this time, you must gather your pikmin up as they are helpless without you. If you are unable to gather all of your pikmin, at the end of the day alongside a cinematic of you leading your pikmin to safety, you will have to watch the pikmin you left behind consumed by the hungry beasts of the night...it's rather sad and I would recommend to take track of each pikmin you send out. I have heavy attachments to even these little guys and it pained me just to lose one :c...BUT!

To combat this sad ending, the developers did something wonderful and added a brand new feature to your ship. You can walk to your ship and select a massive whistle option which will attempt to call back EVERY single pikmin on the map granted they can path their way to the ship. This was such an excellent feature as I always had one or so random pikmin in each map getting caught on something random and being stuck. With this tool, it gets rid of a lot of the stress of poor npc pathing which plagued the games before. Sure the pikmin can still get caught, but now there is a proper solution.

Also: there are missions and side content to do if youd like. I enjoyed it! Certainly felt alright...but i still enjoyed the main story more. I never was a huge fan of these types of side missions...didn't really feel like Pikmin.

I also understand there are harder difficulties, but truthfully I hate having a difficulty meter review, so I typically play on normal.

VISUALS and AUDIO 

The Pikmin series has never looked so beautiful. It still holds the familiar cartoon wonders we all loved. Those small moments of captains sticking their eyes out in surprise or pikmin expressing themselves in cute little squeaks of joy or terror. The water is gorgeous, the plant life is vibrant, and the wildlife is horrifying. Seriously, the creatures in this game have never looked so revolting yet adorable at the same time. 

You can take pictures of the world with the camera feature which is nice. It gives you a complete POV from the captain's point of view which is quite hilarious to see pikmin right in front of your face. Adorable little things just staring at you both full of wonder and waiting for direction. I really don't know what else to put here since I can't describe the game by any point except cute since the game isn't about its visuals in the slightest, so I'll leave it at the game absolutely nailing what it was going for.

Overall:

I really enjoyed this game, no matter how little time it took to finish it. It was a happy gift to my childhood in which I got to experience another mouthful of happy juice. It was something I was really looking forward to and I have a certain someone out there who can attest to that. 

Nintendo did a fine job in tuning the nobs of the game in a way that made it better yet still paid respects to the previous installments. I can't explain just how quickly I was taken back to my childhood with the familiar Pikmin themesong that I could sing at any moment on the spot because of how many times I've heard it. I think we all have those sensations that bring us back to moments when we were kids...mine always seemed to be sounds and music, be it the login music of Runescape to the Pikmin themesong. I almost have tears listening to some tracks...but regardless!

Pikmin has always been one of those games I can look at and just say "yeah. that's fun". I love the ability to command troops, make friends, and explore, and this game did all three in a cutely brutal way that I can respect. While I found some disappointment in how short my journey, nothing shall ever beat my love for Nintendo's Gem that has been in my memories for years. I highly recommend you give this game a shot.