#Ladies and gentlemen of the audience I present to you:

[venomous-qwille]

Haters gonna hate. (Noon from my GITM AU, homage to Martinez' 'knife thrower')

[tbaluver]

bridgerton au! sanemi shinazugawa x reader

warnings: none just cursing

wc: 2k

author's note: i was intending to make this with all the hashira's in one post but tumblr said something about 4096 word block???? tumblr pls im so confused I'm still new at this but please let me know if you want me to write the other hashira's and if there truly is a word count ;-; also sorry if he sounds ooc! this story came in mind because i just have a hyperfixation on demon slayer and bridgerton. anyways enjoy!

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The great hall of Ubuyashiki Palace shimmered with a soft glow of crystal chandeliers, casting intricate patterns of light upon the polished marble floors. It was a significant evening, as the elites gathered for the anual presentation to Her Majesty, Queen Amane. Among the debutantes awaiting their turn, you stood as your heart aflutter with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

You wore a gown with your favorite color in silk, with delicate laces and pearls. Your mother stands beside you with a mix of nervousness as this was your debut into society.

As the strains of the orchestra fills the air with a gentle melody, a hush fell over the assembled guest as the doors at the far end of the hall swung open. Each debutant was announced by name as she stepped forwards to curtsy before Queen Amane, each to all pounding with the weight of expectation and nervousness. Queen Amane, seated upon her throne watched as the debutantes approached. Her expression was composed but those who knew her well can detect a hint of uninterested as each debutant entered.

At last, it was your turn. With a graceful sweep of your skirt, you approached where Queen Amane sat. Your breath caught in your throat as you curtsied deeply, fixed upon the monarch, "Your Majesty," Your mother spoke, "may I present my daughter, (Y/N)"

Queen Amane regards you with a keen gaze, her expression unreadable. "Rise, Miss (Y/L/N)," the Queen's voice was soft yet carried such authority that echoed through the room.

You obey, lifting your eyes to meet the Queen. "And how do you find the season, Miss (Y/L/N)?"

As you gathered your composure, your voice steady despite the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach. "Your Majesty, I am humbled by the warmth and kindness I have encountered. The country has welcomed me with open arms and I eager to contribute to its traditions."

Queen Amane studies you for a moment longer, her expression softening. "You carry yourself with grace, Miss (Y/L/N). May your journey through society be as rewarding as it is enlightening."

With that, Queen Amane signals the end of their audience. You curtesy once more before going back to join your parents, your heart jumped with joy by Queen Amane acknowledgment and the promise of what lies ahead.

-

In society, as invitations poured in and gossiped swirled around, you find yourself at the center of attention.

From the moment you descended on the grand staircase of the Duke's ball, you became the focus of every eligible bachelor's gaze. However you remain blissfully unaware of your effect on the ton. With each delicate step, you sought not to conquer society but rather to savor the fleeting moments of freedom and excitement that this season has promised. You were groomed and taught for this moment ever since you learned how to walk. Your mother's careful guidance has shaped you into elegance and grace.

As you mingled with the crowd, your eyes danced with curiosity, eager to explore the world beyond the pages of your beloved novels. You've held a couple conversations with lords and ladies as if you captivated them. There was just authenticity in your words and how you spoke and how your laughter tinkled like crystal, possibly drawing a bright star in the evening sky that made you feel rare apart from the other debutantes.

Sure, there were a couple gentlemen that caught your eye but your heart remains untouched until you met him.

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

He did not want to be in the halls of the Ubuyashiki Palace to watch the debutantes grace their Queen. He thought the time there was rather a waste of time as he had duties to attend too. With his father passing away at such a young age, he had to be the one to take over the family title and perform his fathers duties. But he had too for his mother and for his siblings. ( He's a mamas boy okay ) His mother insisted that maybe with this season, he will find a wife. He immediately dismissed that idea as he was too busy to find a wife. Instead, his mother insisted that he should go for his siblings so they had an idea for when they make a debut into society.

As each young lady approach the queen, his scowling expression remained the same. possibly scarring the debutants as they pass by

His expression remained the same and uninterested as you passed by. It was until the Queen acknowledges you and a murmur ripples through the assembly. His mother nudges him giving him an idea that you might be the one.

Sanemi and his mother have entered the Duke's ball before dropping off his siblings at their estate taken care of by their maids. His mother mingles with her friends as he goes off to grab a drink.

You were by the drinking station as a young gentleman approaches you. "Why hello there madam." He grins, reaching out his hand, "I'm Maeda, Masao Maeda" He introduces himself as you reach out your hand to shake his. As you shake hands with him, he pulls you a little close to your liking, "You know I own a botique that you can beautifully wear or maybe even model for me" His demeanor and tone changing making you uncomfortable.

Suddenly a rough calloused hand grips Maeda's shoulder as he widens his eyes in fear. "Fuck off." Says this man who has silver uneven hair with a scarred face. Maeda whimpers as a response, letting you go and running away knowing who that voice belongs too.

You look at the man who made Maeda piss his pants. His presence was commanding attention before he speaks. He stands tall and broad shouldered and his physique almost peeking out as his suit was unbuttoned a little bit to reveal his chest. His hair looked tousled almost as if wind-swept. His eyes were piercing and sharp as his irises were a vivid shade of lavender. His skin seemed to have many scars as you can see a couple on his face and on his arms.

"You alright?" He asks as he crosses his arms, his gaze not leaving you. You widened your eyes and a small tint of pink dust appear on your cheeks. Were you checking him out?

You nod, "Thank you. He seems rather...." You trail off looking off to the direction Maeda went off too. "An idiot." He scoffs, "Men like him are fucking disgusting. You have to be careful. You shouldn't go around without your maid."

"And how would I know you're not a man like him?" You now cross your arms. "I can handle things myself, sir." Sanemi's lips curled into a sneer, the scowl on his face deepening.

"Shinazugawa" You quirk a brow as you've heard that title before. The Shinazugawa family is now known for their considerable wealth and prestige due to the direct result of their remarkable career as Hashira's and their strategic endeavors. You've heard victories in battles have not only gained him respect but also considerable financial rewards. "Sanemi Shinazugawa."

"Pleasure to meet you then Mr. Shinazugawa." You say as you curtsey and as he grabs your hand and kisses the back palm of it.

That's how you met the aggressive white haired man.

The grand drawing room of your family's estate was alive with a gentle hum of anticipation. The room was adorned with plush furnishing and elegant decor. You waited for the announcement of your family's butler to announce the caller arriving today only to find out it wasn't one caller. There was a whole line of them outside of your estate.

The door to the drawing room opens with a soft creak as the butler announces the first arrivals with a formal tone. You rise gracefully from your seat greeting your bachelor who came in bearing gifts in his hand. At the far end of the room, nestled a cozy corner by the grand window, sat your mother. While she was deeply absorbed in her knitting, she maintained a vigilant watch over the room. Her eyes occasionally lifting to scan the interactions and ensuring that everyone was being attended to with the utmost courtesy. Conversation flowed easily with each bachelor but as more and more go on you realized how none of them seem to capture your heart so you began to grow uninterested. None of them truly got to understand you deep down or truly got to know your likings. It was rather them talking about the properties or land that they own or what they like to do or the titles they hold.

Sanemi rushed to your estate. He ignored the line of potential bachelors cursing him for cutting in line. He internally cursed himself as well, wondering why he even decided to go here in the first place.

During your first meeting, it was quite awkward. However you didn't realize that you dropped one of your jewels as you walked away. He wished your first meeting could've happened in a better situation. No. Why did he even think of wishing that? He has no time for that. He could've just sent one of his butlers or his maid to send this to your estate so why did he think it was a good idea to barge into your estate to give you back your jewel?

Ignoring your butler's warning that you were busy talking to a caller right now, Sanemi barges right in. You and your caller widened their eyes at the intrusion. "Excuse me I was here first!" The bachelor stands up and huffs in annoyance. Sanemi ignores him and approaches you. "You dropped this yesterday." He says gruffly. You look down to the palm of his hand. "Thank you." You say as your fingers brush against his hand. "I think you had too much time here and let another caller have their turn." Your mother butts in the conversation, kindly kicking out the current bachelor. "Thank you ma'am but I'm not here-" Your mother cuts Sanemi off, "Please I insist. You made a trip here so why not stay a little while Mr. Shinazugawa?"

He shouldn't stay. Yet he decided to sit down and have a conversation with you. At first the conversation was rough but eventually the conversation flowed quite easily later. You learned many things about Sanemi that seemed to interest you than the rest of your bachelors you talked too before him. You learned that he had good swordsmanship and that many of his scars were from the battlefield. You also learned that he has 6 siblings, he likes matcha and ohagi, and that he owns several dogs. He seems to love his family a lot from how much he mentions them which warms your heart.

Although he won't mention it or show it he did seem to take an interest in you as well. He didn't even realize that he accepted your invitation to come back and meet again for tomorrow. He figured he might just send a letter writing that he should've declined and he wishes you well. However he found himself coming back to your estate.

The next time you meet, you made him ohagi with the help of your maids and showed him your favorite books or even played instruments that you knew how to play. You offered to meet another time and he knew he shouldn't accept it. He had family duties to attend too.

Yet he found himself always coming back. The more you both spent time together was like weaving a tapestry of love and understanding that would only deepen with time. You slowly got to uncover different emotions and sides of him, very different from your first meeting.

Eventually he introduces you to his family and his mother. He left to go take care of some paperwork that he thought would be quick but took hours. He comes back to you playing along with his siblings and his dogs and the sight of that completely melted his heart.

I have to marry her.

a/n: hi again if enjoyed this please like or reblog tysm! <3

[xtra7s]

Well, since we know her iconic SNL performance (which was on loop) how would r react. Cause like I'm in love with herrrr. It could be like a live reaction or they are live and fans requested for a reaction vid

(Just a gay thought)

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋: 𝐒𝐍𝐋 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Y/N watches Renee preform on SNL.

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, literally just Y/N swooning over Renee as she preforms, complete fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

masterlist | first part | second part | third part

a/n: I LOVED WRITING THIS, I added Snow Angel too because I felt like it was too short with just Not My Fault. Hope you enjoy!!

The stage lights bathed Renee Rapp in a warm glow as she took center stage on Saturday Night Live. The hushed anticipation in the studio was palpable, but amidst the cheering crowd, Y/N sat, fidgeting with nervous excitement. It was a secret thrill, knowing that the woman who held her heart was about to captivate the world.

Jacob Elordi was on stage, smiling widely as he introduced Renee. "Ladies and gentlemen, Renee Rapp!"

The stage was set in a soft, ethereal light as Renee Rapp prepared to perform "Snow Angel" on Saturday Night Live. The melancholic notes of the piano filled the studio, creating an atmosphere of haunting beauty. The audience hushed in anticipation as Renee lay on the stage floor, an ethereal figure amidst the gentle glow.

Y/N, seated amidst the crowd, watched with bated breath. As the first lines of the sorrowful ballad left Renee's lips, a wave of emotion washed over the audience. Renee's voice, rich with emotion, painted a poignant picture of heartache and longing. The harmonies join her as she sings, and Y/N finds herself captivated, unable to tear her gaze away from the captivating performance unfolding before her.

Renee's form on the ground seemed to embody the weight of the song's melancholy. The vulnerability in her voice resonated, and Y/N felt a deep connection to the emotions conveyed. The crowd sat in rapt silence, collectively holding their breath, as Renee lay there, pouring her heart into each delicate lyric.

More instruments joined the song, Renee standing up from the floor as the song swelled. The melancholy tones transitioned into a powerful crescendo, and the studio transformed into a sea of emotions. Y/N, now on the edge of her seat, felt a lump forming in her throat. The raw intensity of the performance left her in awe, a silent witness to the soul-baring artistry on display.

As Renee's voice soared through the studio, Y/N couldn't help but feel a deep admiration for the vulnerability and strength intertwined in the performance. It was a heartbreaking and beautiful symphony, and Y/N found herself lost in the haunting melody, her emotions mirroring the raw intensity and flow of the song.

When the final note hung in the air, the studio erupted into applause. Y/N joined in, her admiration for Renee's talent mingling with a profound sense of connection. As Renee smiled and the lights dimmed, she spun around and applauded the people playing the instruments to her song. Y/N couldn't shake the lingering impact of the song, grateful to have been present for a performance that transcended the stage and touched the depths of her soul.

After a short break, Jacob Elordi hosting and speaking, Rachel McAdams Walks on stage, smiling at the applause before gesturing her hands up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, once again, Renee Rapp!" She speaks loudly, gesturing her arms to the stage Renee is standing on top of.

The first notes of "Not My Fault" begin to float through the air, and Y/N's gaze is fixed on Renee. The way she was dancing, the raw power in her voice, the way she effortlessly commanded the stage, left Y/N breathless. Each lyric that came from her mouth had Y/N squirming in her seat. The crowd responded with thunderous applause, but for Y/N, it was a personal serenade, an intimate connection she could only share in secret.

"god damn, she looks so good I could die," Y/N murmurs under her breath, sitting up and adjusting in her seat.

As the song continued, Renee's stage presence intensified, her magnetic energy filling the room. Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion, pride, and an ache in her chest from the sheer brilliance of the performance. It was a potent mix of love and admiration, leaving her utterly flustered in the midst of the electrifying moment.

The entire time Renee has been singing, Y/N's eyes have been drifting down her neck to her stomach, her cheeks covered in a maroon shade as she takes in Renee's outfit. 

she has too much trust in that top.

Renee does a little dance as she sings with the backup dancers, getting to Y/N's favorite part. "Get her number, get her name, get a good thing while you can. Kiss a blonde, kiss a friend, can a gay girl get an amen?"

Y/N was immediately standing as she watched this, yelling out amen after Renee sang that part. Renee notices her in the crowd beyond the blinding lights and sends a wink her way.

The cake begins to spin around as Renee is singing, revealing Megan Thee Stallion as she raps her part of the song. Renee does a little dance in front of Megan as she sings, them both going into sync as they do their choreography. Renee sticks her tongue out while she smiles, making the cheers louder around Y/N.

Renee dances with her hands in the air and does a body roll as Megan sings, pulling her mic back to her face and singing again. It's short-lived as the song is getting to an end, Megan speaking into her mic. "What's up SNL??!" The cheers get louder as she does, Renee joining in. "Give it up for Megan Thee Stallion!!" She yells into the mic, jokingly twerking for a second before jumping back into the end of the song, "It's not my fault you're like in love with me." She sings as she gets closer to Megan, turning her head to smile at her. "You're like in love with me."

When the final notes hung in the air, the applause was deafening. Y/N joined in, clapping enthusiastically, but her eyes never left Renee. The stage seemed to shimmer around her secret girlfriend, a beacon of talent and passion that left Y/N in awe.

As Renee laughed with Megan and then hugged her, waving to the stage before rushing off stage the applause echoed, and Y/N couldn't suppress the giddy smile that spread across her face. She had witnessed something extraordinary, something incredibly sexy and beautiful, and it filled her with a warmth that lingered long after the lights dimmed. In the secrecy of the crowd, Y/N reveled in the magic of being in love with a woman who could command a stage with such brilliance, all while keeping their connection hidden like a precious secret between the notes of a song.

[fancyfeathers]

Just Like Rosemary

(Yandere William James Moriarty x Ballerina Reader) (feat. Platonic Yandere Louis James Moriarty and Albert James Moriarty)

inspired by this post about Williams with a historically accurate ballerina darling which was inspired by @yandere-wishes

A bit of background, during the 19th century, the ballet world, including the esteemed Paris Opera, operated under a disturbing norm of sexual exploitation. The company essentially functioned as a brothel, exploiting the vulnerability of impoverished young girls who aspired to become ballerinas. Malnourished and lacking support, these girls were often coerced into relationships with wealthy patrons, their only perceived avenue to a better life. These affluent men wielded their power to objectify and proposition the ballerinas both on and offstage, effectively creating a demeaning "men's club" atmosphere. Their influence extended beyond mere harassment, dictating who would rise to star roles and who would face dismissal from the ballet.

TW//pr*stitution, slightly graphic murder, work place abuse, implied human trafficking, kidnapping

You stepped out backstage as the performance finally ended, the applause of the audience fading away into the background as the chatter of your fellow dancers took over the sound of the back halls of the Royal Opera House. You yawned but quickly gasped as you felt arms wrap around your torso along with a high pitched giggle that you quickly placed as belonging to Sorelli, one of your friends and fellow dancers at the ballet.

“Seems like your new costume is fitting wonderfully.” She spoke with a melodic tone which made you roll your eyes as her arms slipped from your waist.

“It only took two weeks of complaints to the costuming department to get a new one.” You sighed as she came to walk next to you. You looked around the backstage, and it seemed like a few of the gentlemen from the audience had already made their way backstage, slipping away from their seats before the show had ended so they could have first pick of the ladies of the ballet. You glanced at Sorelli and she was doing the same, looking over the men present trying to pick out the ones who would be able to pay for her time. “Your rent is due, huh?”

“Yes, and I do not think my landlady will be willing to take a late payment this time around.” You were slightly tempted to stay and help her but looking over the people present you thought it better if you did not since you had already engaged in more unsavory activities the night prior and it seems like Sorelli recognized this as well since she leaned over to whisper in your ear. “You should head home before they come into the dressing rooms.”

“Will you be alright?” You asked and she nodded before pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Fine, but please promise me you will not go home with any of them, you remember what happened to Rosemary.”

“I promise, you have my word.” 

With those words you scampered off to the dressing rooms to avoid any flings that may take place in there tonight. You managed to avoid many of the clientele on the way to the dressing rooms, only receiving a handful of comments and compliments that you responded to with false gratitude in your voice.

“I could not take my eyes off you this evening.”

“Thank you Earl, you are too kind.”

“The way your body moves was mesmerizing.”

“O-oh, thank you, my lord.”

“Ah why don’t you join us for drinks, I have a friend I would like to introduce you to.”

“Oh no thank you, perhaps another night.”

You clicked the dressing room door locked as you began to remove your pointe shoes and slip out of your costume, hanging it up on the rack by your name label on the wall and placing the shoes in a box underneath it. You made note of your worn down shoes, it had only been two weeks but it seems like you would need a new pair sooner than later, but to find ones that actually fit you would cost more money than you currently had so you would probably have to settle on some that were a side to big or small.

You sighed as you slipped on your scarf as you stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door behind you. You managed to spot Sorelli talking to two gentlemen, a viscount and earl you believe, in a doorway, it seems like she will be able to pay rent tonight. You slipped through the back halls of the opera house, ignoring the sounds from all around you as hard as they were to drown out.

You pushed open one of the back doors of the opera house that led into a back alley and the cold winter hair hit your skin like cold water washing away sweat from your hot skin after a summer’s day. You began your long walk home through the dark streets of London, the streets were still populated enough that no one would try anything but it did not stop you from feeling the heat of eyes burning into your skin. You picked up your pace ever so slightly as you felt it begin to drizzle, you did not wish to catch a cold in this weather, you did not have the money to pay for a doctor right now. 

…and it seems you spoke too soon.

A carriage moved past you, the wheel driving through a puddle and the splash landed on you, soaking you to the bone with both water and mud. The carriage did not even stop when you saw the face of someone finally dressed peer out and completely ignored you, speeding down the street. You huffed and shook out your hands  to get the freezing water off of them.

“Miss, are you alright- oh my you are soaking!” You heard a voice from behind you exclaimed. You turned around to see a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a noble it seemed, but his eyes were filled with worry for your freezing form. You watched as he stepped towards you, removing his own jacket to wrap around your shoulders. “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?”

“I could ask you the same thing, sir.” You replied as his gloved hands pulled the jacket tighter around your shaking form. “But I am fine, really, I was just on my way home.”

“Then please let me escort you home, you will catch a cold out in this weather .” He said and he gestured to the carriage across the way and you could see the silhouettes of two other men within. “I am sure my brothers would have no problem with a detour on the way home.”

Remember what happened to Rosemary.

Those words you spoke echoed in your mind as you thought of a response as the scarlet eyed man looked at you. You remember the cries of Sorelli when you found out what happened while you could only stand there, wide eyed, in shock. The photos that were published in the paper were horrific, but the truth was never written and went unspoken by the girls of the ballet. You suppose money can buy anything and everything, even silence.

“Are you alright over there, William?” A voice from one of the two men in the carriage pulled you back into reality. You turned your head to the carriage to see an attractive brown haired man who opened the door to call out to his brother.

“Yes, Miss (Name) here just seemed to be out of it for a moment.” He replied to the man who nodded at his response. The man you now knew as William turned to you once more, extending his hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“I… um….” What happened to Rosemary was a rare occurrence, right? These were not the same people you last saw here with, besides they did not seem to be regulars at the ballet, you would recognize them if they were, then William gave you his coat in the freezing cold, no one, let alone a noble, has ever done something like that for you. You set your own hand in his, feeling his larger fingers wrap around the back of your hand. “Yes, I will take you up on that offer.”

“Lovely.” He led you towards the carriage that had the door open from when the brown haired man called out. William braced your arm as you stepped up into the carriage, along with the assistance of the brown haired man who helped you up by offering you his hand.

 You sat down across from the two other gentlemen in the carriage, the brown haired man and another blond haired man who looked almost identical to William besides the glasses he wore and the hair that seemed to cover a scar of sorts. You did not make eye contact with either of them despite the kind smiles they offered you as William said something to the driver before stepping in and sitting alongside you, his arm pressing against your shoulder that was covered by the jacket he had given you.

You felt the carriage begin to move as you just tried to remind yourself this was not going to end like Rosemary, they were just taking home, nothing else, you were perfectly safe, but what if-

“Miss (Name), are you alright? You look quite pale.” The voice of William stopped you from spiraling even deeper. You jumped at first but managed to regain your composure, but that did not go unnoticed by the three brothers.

“Y-yes, just caught up in my thoughts, apologies.” You responded and he hummed in response and you all were resolved to silence for a moment before you mustered up the courage to speak again. “What brings you to this side of the city, sir-“

“William James Moriarty, but please just call me William, and to answer your question, I was just attending a meeting with one of my clients.” He cut you off as you tried to remember his name. He extended his hand, gesturing to his two brothers, the blonde first and then the brunette. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”

You pieced the names together in your mind…

…Louis James Moriarty.

…Albert James Moriarty.

You had heard the name of the brown haired man before, whispered in conversation of the nobles after shows at the ballet when you were hanging on one of their arms. You learned quite a lot when listening in to those conversations, gossip and dirty secrets kept in hushed tones among the nobility, and even a few names, the Earl you sat across from being one of them.

“Earl Moriarty, correct?” You asked and an almost embarrassed smile came across the man’s face.

“Yes, but how did you know?” He asked, a playful curiosity coming into his voice.

“I am a ballerina at the Royal Opera House.” You answer but not one of the brother’s expressions turned to one of shock, it is as if they already knew. “It is honestly surprising what you learn when the aristocracy get drunk and already have no filter around someone they already deem as insignificant- I should not have said that, apologies.”

“No need to apologize, I promise no one here will be offended.” William responded on Albert’s behalf with a small laugh, you glanced at Albert for confirmation and he nodded along with a smile. William’s red eyes fixed on you as your gaze went from Albert to him. “Now I am curious, what does a lady like you hear from such nobility?”

“Well mostly meaningless gossip, whose wives are having affairs with other men, failed business deals or scams, but currently the unknown Lord of Crime has caught the attention of the ton.” You looked at William as you spoke, unable to see the narrowing eyes of Albert and Louis as you did. “But I suppose none of it truly applies to me, just something to listen to in order to pass the time of the last few hours of the work day.”

“Hm, but would your day not end at the end of the performance?” You heard Louis chime in, finally hearing him speak. You shook your head no, your smiling fading ever so slightly. “How so?”

“One unfamiliar with the ballet may be surprised by what happens within those walls.” Your eyes fell down to your skirt, your gloved hands gripping the fabric of it as you spoke. “ It is not all as beautiful as it may seem after the show.” 

You jumped a bit when you felt and saw William’s hand come to rest atop your own, his thumb running circles over your knuckles. Your eyes shot up to him and he offered you a comforting smile.

“It is alright, you can tell us.”

“You… you promise you will not tell a soul that I told you this.”

“You have our word, my dear.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Albert who nodded in agreement, then at Louis who also nodded in agreement, then back at William. He smiled down at you with those lovely scarlet red eyes and it felt like any hesitation melted away.

“Well… after shows many gentlemen of the aristocracy will come to… socialize with the female performers of the ballet.” Everyone’s attention and gazes were fixed on you as you began to explain. “Sometimes it is just harmless flirting with some conversation and drinks, other times it becomes a bit… more. But it pays, keeps a roof over my head and enough food on my plate so I don’t starve.”

“I see….” You did not notice the drop in William’s voice as he responded and pondered over what you just explained. “And I could imagine the money one would make if one was to go home with one of them for the evening.”

“That… that does not happen anymore, not since Rosemary.” 

“Rosemary?”

“She was another ballerina at the opera like myself, I performed alongside her and her sister, Sorelli.” You responded to Louis, explaining who she was. “She was a kind lady, too kind for her own good. She went with some Baron after a performance, she told us that she would see us in the morning but that was a lie. Two weeks later, a shop owner, a tailor I think, found her body in the river, gutted like a fish.”

“That must have been horribly hard for you.” Albert was the first to respond after hearing your explanation.

“What I went through was nothing compared to what Sorelli went through. I remember her crying when we found out, it was after a performance and I had to drag her away to not start a scene, but you can’t blame her, the law enforcement did not even bother telling her until the death was published by the papers.” You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you recalled that horrible day, there was not even a funeral, just the grave marked when the body was identified. You had taken Sorelli to visit the grave and she was just broken. “But that is not the worst part, that man still goes to the ballet and even paid off the owner, every single girl there knows he did it but no one will say anything, not if they value their life.”

“I am sure they will receive their punishment in due time.” William spoke to you after a moment, his hand coming up from your hand that he held and up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears. The leather felt warm against your cheek, from the heat between your hands. “I will see to it personally.”

“If only the world worked like that.” 

The rest of the carriage ride was peaceful, a few more pleasantries exchanged here and there but soon enough you arrived outside of the apartment building you lived in. Like before, William helped you out of the carriage and as soon as your feet touched the ground he took your hand that he held and brought it up to his lips, kissing the back of it.

“It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Miss (Name).”

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, William.” 

He released your hand and you quickly made your way inside the warm apartment building and scurried up into your own one room apartment, it was not much but it was home. Your landlord finally repaired the ceiling so it would not leak during the rain and freeze you during the winter, but you still had to stuff whatever extra bedding you had in the window because it would never close all the way. 

You went to remove your coat, only to find that you were still wearing William’s coat, you had forgotten to return it and he forgot to take it back. You sighed and peered out the window, the carriage was gone so you doubted you would be able to return it now so you simply decided to hand it up alongside your own clothes in the closet. As you were beginning to strip out of your wet clothes to change into a nightdress, you reflected on your conversation with the three brothers, they were so kind to you especially when you mentioned such a sour topic as murder. Then the way William looked at you, it was like he knew you better than any man alive, like those lovers who attend performances with one another and they gaze into each other’s eyes when the romantic music begins to swell…

You felt your breathing stop…

You pushed yourself to turn your head to gaze out the window once more…

Looking over the streets…

The other buildings…

The people that walked the streets and dwelled in these houses were nothing like the brothers, they were commoners and the Moriarty family was nobility, you should have no prior interactions with one another…

But how did they know your address without you telling him…

And how did he know your name…

You felt your stomach lurch at those thoughts…

Has he been watching you?

Were you going to end up like Rosemary?

—————————

A week had passed since your encounter with the Moriarty brothers and life carried on like it always had, minus the pocket knife you had bought off from one of the stagehands at the opera house. It was after another performance and you were going to go straight home with Sorelli tonight since she had begun walking you home due to your growing paranoia. You both had stepped into the dressing rooms and Sorelli immediately ran off to her own things and reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a box.

“Macarons!” She exclaimed as she opened the box and sat on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her. “Come on, I got these for both of us.”

“You are an actual angel, Sorelli.” You replied, going to sit down next to her, not caring about ruining your costume by sitting in it or eating in it, it was already old enough that it needed to be replaced. 

“Well with all the stress you have had as of late, it was the least I could do.” She spoke as you both reached in to grab one and you brought it up to your lips-

“What are you two doing in here?!” You heard a voice angrily shout as the dressing room door slammed open. You both gasped as your eyes shot up to see the ballet mistress in the doorway. She stomped over to you two and you immediately stood up and fell silent. You felt her eyes look you two over, scanning over you like fire covering the room. “Eating and sitting in costume, do you even care for the things you are provided? Do you know how much these cost?”

“No madam.” You both said in unison like you had been taught, along with not making eye contact with the old hag out of fear.

“Well you better pay for the damages you caused.” She snapped at the two of you, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I want the money for them before the opera house closes for the night, do you understand?”

“But madam, I-“

You were cut off with a sharp pain across the face as she stuck you.

“I did not ask for buts, do you understand girl?”

You had to bite back tears as you replied.

“Yes Madam.”

“Good, now fix your makeup, no man would want to be seen with a girl who looks like that.” She stated as she finally walked out the door and you finally broke, weeping in your hands. Everything has finally become too much for you. You felt Sorelli rub circles into your back.

“I hate that witch.” You muttered through your tears.

“Have to agree with you on that one.” Your fellow ballerina replied as she helped you stand up straight and wipe away your tears. “Why don’t we fix you up and we can deal with this together.”

“You are too sweet for your own good.”

Sorelli sat you down and began to do your make up again, cleaning up the tear stains on your cheeks and taking special care to hide away the red hand print that was forming on your skin. You sadly had to put the box of treats away to enjoy some other time since you did not wish to get caught again. 

“I can take care of my hair, Sorelli.” You said as you picked up the brush from the vanity. “You can go on ahead, I think I will find that viscount that is here tonight.”

“Alright, see you at closing?”

“I will see you then.”

You watched as she scampered out of the dressing room and you began to brush through your hair in near silence minus the chatter and other noises from outside the dressing room walls. Sometimes with Sorelli it did not even seem like she had a sister, her name had become a warning among the dancers of the ballet so that is what Rosemary’s identity had melted into.

“You look lovely tonight.” Your eyes shot up into the mirror when you heard that voice and in the reflection of the glass you saw those same red eyes from that carriage ride once more, Williams was standing behind you and you did not even notice.

“Thank you… William.” He stepped towards you again, his feet clicking against the old wood floor. You felt his hand slip into your own, grabbing the brush you held and he took a strand of your hair and began brushing through it himself.

“You have been crying, your eyes are swollen under your makeup.” He stated this as a matter of fact and you could only nod as he brushed through a knot. “Now why do you stain your face with such tears? What is wrong, my dear?”

“Everything, everything is wrong.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, there is not a day I don’t imagine leaving this hell hole, but there is no day where I do because I have nowhere to go. The way they look at me and touch me, it feels like I am nothing but just something for their amusement.” You wrapped your arms around your shaking form as you tried to hold back your tears. “The sometimes it feels like Sorelli has all but forgotten what happened to Rosemary, she is in the ground now.”

“Oh you poor thing, I was in the audience tonight and I have to admit I noticed their looks as well, a terrible thing for you to go through.” He pulled a little harder as he combed through a tangle. “But as for your friend, I am sure she will come to terms with her grief in time, sometimes it just takes action in order to recover.”

“I just wish this all would go away, I want none of it, I just want to see this place burn up in smoke and flames.”

“Then your wish is my command.” Before you could question his words he spoke as he tied up your hair with a ribbon. He reached into his pocket and took out more than enough money to pay back the ballet mistress. “Why don’t you go home early, I am sure you need your rest after such a long day.”

“Thank you, William.”

After he left the dressing room, you scampered to get changed so you may go and find Sorelli. You made your way through the halls looking for her and you found her in the oddest of places with the oddest of people, you found her near the entrance to the storage cellars talking to.

“Lord Albert? Sorelli?” You called out to the duo who were talking, but they did not seem to share the same playful chatter as most others in the building did. Sorelli and the eldest Moriarty brother looked at you with a bit of surprise.

“Oh (Name), are you ready to go?” She asked, a false smile coming across her face.

“Um… yes, are you not coming?”

“Oh well, Lord Albert and I were just having the most interesting conversation.” She replied, gesturing to the man beside her. “I think I would like to talk to him a bit longer if you would like to head home.”

“Talking? About what?”

“Pyrotechnics.” Albert answered on her behalf and your gaze shifted to him. “Some theaters in the Americas and France are using them in their stage performances.”

“Sounds dangerous.” You replied and your eyes shifted back at her, you were about to say something, but sighed, deciding to let it go. “I am going to head home, I already paid both of our portions to the old hag so just head home when you are done.”

“I will.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” You turned on your heel and began walking down the hall, slowly…

You waited for a reply but all you got was a simple…

“Goodbye.”

—————————

“Fire at the Royal Opera House: Three Dead, Ten Casualties.”

That was the first headline you saw in the morning when you picked up this morning’s paper from a newsboy. 

You threw up on the spot.

Apparently after the opera house closed last night, a candle fell over and ignited the whole building, or at least that was the most logical guess but the other part of it was a mystery. Two men were found with bullet holes in their heads in the rubble while a girl was simply found, most likely suffocated to death…

Sorelli…

Not only were you out of the job but your best friend was dead.

You raced to the scene immediately, your warm breath showing white fog in the cold as you ran through the streets of London like a mad woman. Then upon arriving at the sight, all that was left was the burnt ruins of the opera house. The sight was being contained by law enforcement since the ruins were still smoking and the sight was being investigated. You could see three bodies, covered in a black tarp in the the distance, two larger and one smaller…

Sorelli…

She did not deserve this…

No…

Please god no…

You must have stood in the street for hours, just staring at your friend’s dead body in shock…

Just like you did when Rosemary died…

You had to be told to go home by one of the officers since you looked exhausted, so you did.

Your mind just felt numb…

You felt dead…

Why…

Why…

Why…

You pushed yourself back inside your apartment building and your landlord who was reading the morning paper, the same edition as the one you bought, looked up at you.

“Someone is here to see you, I let him into your apartment.” You nodded at his statement and as you went to walk up stairs he spoke again. “Oh and rent is due by the end of the week.”

You gritted your teeth…

Selfish bastard…

He is literally reading about how you just lost your best friend and job and that is what he says.

You rolled your eyes and walked back upstairs, not even remembering the fact that you have a guest. You pushed open your already partially opened apartment door and you immediately dropped your keys and paper…

“William… what are you doing here?”

William James Moriarty sat on your bed, holding his coat he gave you that night in his hands. He looked up at you with a smile, but this time it did not feel kind, it felt almost wicked.

“I am here to take you home.”

“Home?”

“Yes, with the opera house burnt down I figured that you would be out of the job so the least I could do was provide you with a safe place to rest your head.” Your lips were slightly agape in shock when he said those words. He looked at you, a new pity coming into his eyes. “I am also here to extend my condolences for your loss.”

“Sorelli…”

“Yes, I am afraid so.” He nodded at your words as he stood up from the bed. “We tried to get her out before she got trapped in the flames, but she just would not listen.”

Your eyes went wide when he said those words and you felt your heart stop beating in your chest.

“What…”

“She told me to tell you to live for both her and Rosemary and told me to take care of you since she knew you would be quite grief stricken.” You felt your mind grow numb again in shock as he continued to speak. “She did it for you, she did not want to see you end up like her sister.”

“She… she did what?”

“Well she murdered both the owner of the opera house and the man who killed her sister.” You felt the bile building up in your throat as he began to explain again. “The fire… that was her idea, to burn it all away so you would never have to go back there.”

“Oh my god…”

“I know it must be a lot to take in, my dear.” You felt William’s ungloved hand come to rest against your check, raising your head up to look at him. “But I will be here to help you through it, my brothers as well. Louis already has your room prepared, and Albert was expressing to me at breakfast how happy you will be there-“

“Don’t touch me!” 

You slapped his hand away, backing up towards your door. Your eyes were wide with both rage and fear.

“Dearest-“

“You are the Lord of Crime, aren’t you?” You cut him off, raising your eyes to look up at him. William’s smiling expression had all but disappeared at your words and instead was replaced by something darker. “You knowing my name, where I lived, it all makes sense, you were trying to kill those two men all along.”

“While you are not incorrect with your first guess, you are with your second.” He stepped towards you after you stepped back. “I was originally looking for someone to assist in the removal of those two men but when I was looking into you, you were just too pure to do such an act.”

“What… what are you on about?”

“You have been tossed around all your life, forced into this work by your mother and kicked out when you said you did not want to do it anymore. Then your ballet mistress, who abused you for even making a mistake. Then those men, who took advantage of you because of your weak state.” You were frozen as he finally stood before you again. “Did you even know that you were the next target of the man who killed Rosemary?”

“…no…”

“You were, and if it was not for me and your late friend, you would be dead.” The breath left your lungs as he spoke. You could barely process the feeling of him draping his coat over your shoulders, just like that night when you first met. “She told me to take care of you and who am I to refuse a request from a dying woman?”

You did not process anything after he spoke those words…

Not you being led downstairs by him…

Not him handing over your keys to the landlord…

Not him taking you outside…

Not him helping you into the carriage…

Not the carriage beginning to move as William placed a kiss upon your lips, just like all the men who have done that before….

The only thought that came into your mind came to you as William laid your head in his lap as you began to daze off into sleep…

…You were just like Rosemary.

[unforgivenn]

16th HOUR - #6: Under Hammer

Masterlist/ Previous

CW: Violence, Dehumanisation, Slavery, Drugging, Family rejection, Non-con Handling

Samuel’s pulse raced as the curtains parted, revealing a dimly lit room filled with rows of seats. The audience sat in shadows, their faces hidden, yet he could feel their eyes on him—cold, calculating, eager. The auctioneer, a tall man with a slick appearance, stood at the front of the stage, his voice booming as he introduced the event.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight’s auction!! We have a special treat for you—a handsome young man, in excellent condition! Perfect for your collection or personal use.”

Samuel’s heart pounded in his chest. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck His mind screamed in protest, but his body was paralyzed with fear. What the fuck, what the fuck, Somebody please get me out The room felt like a nightmare, the air thick with anticipation and depravity. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck Every step he took felt like a march toward doom, his chains clinking softly against the polished floor. What the fu-

“Present the item,” the auctioneer commanded.

A handler pushed Samuel forward, and he stumbled, the chains around his ankles preventing him from catching his balance. He fell to his knees, the rough wood biting into his skin. The audience murmured among themselves excitedly, some even squealing and giggling. Samuel’s face burned with humiliation, but he forced himself to stand, his legs trembling.

“Please... let me go,” he whispered, barely audible. The handler yanked him upright, ignoring his plea. Not like he expected the man to listen to him anyways.

“Head up,” the auctioneer snapped. “Show them what they’re bidding on.”

Samuel lifted his head, meeting the gaze of the audience. The best he could do right now was listen. He wanted to scream and shout as much as he could though that didn't seem like such a good idea in a place filled with strangers, and guards with guns across their chests. Especially if he wanted to avoid pain. The faces he saw were devoid of empathy, their eyes glinting with greed and curiosity. They saw him as a product, an object to be bought and sold. It made his stomach churn with revulsion.

“Look at his build, his complexion,” the auctioneer continued, walking around Samuel, gesturing at him like he was a piece of meat. “Healthy, strong, and obedient. Perfect for any household. We don't get such men much. I'd consider this a special one then.” The auctioneer winked and laughed, though Samuel felt like puking.

Obedient. The word echoed in Samuel’s mind. He wanted to scream, to fight, to break free, but he knew it was futile. The system was designed to crush any semblance of rebellion, to strip away every ounce of humanity.

The bidding started, voices rising from the darkness. Samuel’s thoughts swirled in a chaotic mix of fear, anger, and despair. How had it come to this? How had he gone from being a person with dreams and aspirations to a mere item on a stage?

“Do I hear one million? One million, thank you. One point five? Two million, excellent!!,” the auctioneer’s voice droned on, each number driving a nail deeper into Samuel’s soul.

He remembered his family, the way they looked at him when the classification results came in. The disbelief, the horror, and ultimately, the cold rejection. They couldn’t accept that their son was now livestock, a being stripped of rights and dignity. They didn't care. The memory was a knife to his heart, the pain as fresh as the day it happened.

“Three million, ladies and gentlemen. Three million for this fine specimen. Do I hear three point five?”

A wave of nausea washed over Samuel. He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his helplessness. The air seemed to thicken, pressing in on him from all sides. He wanted to disappear, to escape this twisted reality-

“Three point five! Going once, going twice—”

“Four million.”

The voice was cold, authoritative. It sliced through the murmur of the crowd, drawing all attention. The auctioneer paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he regained his composure.

“Four million. Do I hear four point five?”

Silence. The room was thick with tension, the bidders hesitant. No one else dared to challenge the new bidder. The auctioneer smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Four million, going once, going twice—sold!”

The gavel came down with a resounding thud, sealing Samuel’s fate. He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach, the finality of it crashing over him like a wave. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, his chains rattling in the oppressive silence.

“Congratulations to the winning bidder,” the auctioneer announced. “You’ve acquired a truly exceptional specimen.”

The handler hauled Samuel to his feet, dragging him off the stage. The curtains closed behind him, cutting off the view of the audience. Samuel’s mind was a whirlpool of emotions—fear, anger, despair—all mixing into a nauseating cocktail that threatened to overwhelm him.

He was led down a dim corridor, the oppressive atmosphere pressing in on him. His thoughts raced, trying to grasp onto any shred of hope, but there was none. He was a prisoner in this twisted system, a pawn in a game he didn’t understand.

The handler shoved him into a small, windowless room. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the confined space. Samuel sank to the floor, his body shaking with silent sobs. He was alone, trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight.

As the hours passed, Samuel’s mind wandered. He thought of his family, his friends, the life he had lost. He thought of the government that had condemned him, the society that had turned its back on him. He felt a burning rage, a deep-seated anger at the injustice of it all.

"Why?"

There was no answer, only the cold, unyielding silence. Samuel curled up on the floor, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to find comfort. "Why why why why why?!!" His thoughts drifted to the future, to the unknown fate that awaited him. "FUCK WHY?!" He tried to steel himself, to prepare for whatever horrors lay ahead, and to just not cry but it seemed impossible now. He was being sold. Like someone who had no life, no thoughts, no family.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. Samuel looked up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. The man was tall and impeccably dressed. He had expected some fat, old, pervert which this man was definitely not. He could still be a pervert but he wanted to cancel that situation out the most.

“Hello.” he said, his voice smooth and condescending slightly leaning down to see Samuel's face properly.

This fucker. He was talking to him like one would to a cat. Swears were burning up at his throat with tears that unfortunately only heavied when he saw the man. He wanted to punch, kick, swear, kill him but the only thing he managed out was- "G-Get away.."

The man’s gaze remained impassive, his eyes cold and calculating as he took in Samuel’s defiant posture. “Oh, come now,” he said, his tone patronizing yet unbothered by the hostility. “I’m here to finalize the details of your new life. You’ll find it’s quite different from the one you’ve left behind.”

Samuel’s heart raced faster, the blood pounding in his ears. The man’s words seemed to echo in the empty room, mingling with the remnants of Samuel’s fading hope. He could barely focus on the man’s features, his mind a tumult of panic and resignation.

The man continued, unperturbed by Samuel’s pleas. “You should be grateful. Not many get to experience such... exclusive treatment. Rather, you would've already been beaten down for not giving proper respect to your owner.” He gestured dismissively towards the door. “Now, we'll discuss the rules when we reach home.”

Grateful? How could he be grateful for being bought like an object, for having his humanity stripped away? How could anyone be grateful when being treated like this? His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to hold back the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Who... who are you?” Samuel managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

The man straightened, a smile playing on his lips. “My name is Marcus Caldwell. And you, Samuel, are now my property.”

Samuel’s stomach turned at the word. He wasn’t a person anymore, just a possession, a thing to be owned. His mind raced, desperately and he almost didn't even notice the needle now in the man's hand.

"No no no no no noo get away!" The man was on him in seconds with the needle stabbed into his arm. Samuel screeched, his back arching at the rough treatment.

"Shhh.. It's for your safety, love. Just until we reach home."

That wasn't his home. His home was- oh.. he didn't have a home.. Tears filled his eyes with black spots forming in front of them.

Just how many times was he going to be drugged in this life?

Next(soon to come)

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@vampiresprite/ @lucas--43

[urluv69]

Task Force 141 COD

Y/N(18+ user) X Ghost

Mature content!

Carnival

It was October 31; Halloween. You didn’t normally dress up or go out for Halloween since you were normally either on a mission or too tired from a mission, but this year was different. You joined the task force 141 just under a year ago and found that they all liked to celebrate (in some way or form) holidays.

As usual, you weren’t planning on doing anything to celebrate Halloween but when Ghost invited you to a carnival, you couldn’t help but say yes. You dressed in fish neck stockings, a tiny leather skirt, a short black tank top, a red racing jacket and healed combat boots. You weren’t quite sure if it looked good or not when you arrived with Ghost but the looks people were giving said you looked hot.

The day went well with you and Ghost playing some games and carnival activities. As usual Ghost kept a stoic expression and lacked a smile but you could tell he was enjoying himself just as you were. When the time came everyone entered the large tent that had a huge stage in the middle. An odd box sat at the center of the stage but you didn’t pay any mind to it as you found two seats with Ghost.

“Ladies and gentlemen, to finish off your evening here I would like to present the annual event. As most of you have been waiting all day for this I won’t take long and will chose a lady from the audience to start us off.” The ring man standing in a flashy red suit announced through a microphone as the whole crowd roared.

It was only now that you noticed how many ladies were dressed in under garments and lacy clothes showing off more then they were covering. You couldn’t say you were covering any more than them but most almost looked as if it was intended to be taken off.

You gave a confused glance towards Ghost who was looking ahead and didn’t meet your gaze. Suddenly a white beam of light shone over you and the ring man pointed towards you. You were confused before he motioned for you to come down to the center stage where he stood.

You hesitated but did make your way down to him. “Now what is your name, doll?” You tell him your name as the crowd cheers and your cheeks flush not used to the attention being on you.

“Do you know the rules or shall I remind you of how we play here?”

“I-I don’t know the rules….”

You stammered as you nervously shifted on your feet.

“Very well. You will step into the box at the center of our ring. You will find various holes and cameras that way we can see and interact with you inside. You may exist at any given point you please by simply pressing the red button on the door. You can strip down at which ever speed you’d like and may choose who you interact with.”

You nodded as realization hit you. It was a pleasure box. You go in and others can chose to interact with you or not. You let out a shaky breath as you walk over to the box and close the door shut. Slowly, you strip off your jacket, top, and finally your skirt and fishnets. You are left in small black thongs and a black skimpy bra.

Soon enough you see something appear in one of the hole. A long, veiny, and strained cock. You sink to your knees without much hesitation and wrapped one hand around its base. You look to a screen inside the box to figure out who it was and see a tall brunette with messy hair in a fire fighter costume.

You wrap your lips around his tip and sensually swipe your tongue over. Your hand begins to pump as you start sucking harder and hollowing out your cheeks. You take him down your throat as far as you can go without chocking and pump the rest. Your tongue swirls around him as you now feel heat pulling in your core.

You should feel dirty and ashamed doing this in a semi-public scene but you don’t. It only turns you on more to think about it. Your body begins to heat up more as you feel him twitch signaling he is close. Another hole is filled to your left and another slightly shorter but thick cock is now in your view. You take your hand away from the man you are still working on and bring it to stroke the new one.

Your free hand reaches behind your back and unclamps your bra. You don’t pay mind to wear it falls and only focus on the load of cum being released into your mouth and down your throat. You swallow everything and pull away with a pop from his tip. Your one hand is still eagerly pumping the newcomers cock who you look up to the screen and see a blond, younger man dressed in a suit and tie.

It doesn’t take long before cum is dripping down your bare chest and you pull your hand back. At this point you are aching to be touched and receive any type of friction. This time when a new cock appears you stand up and shimmy out of your panties. You press your back against the wall before bending over and exposing your pussy to them as they pull back for a moment.

Conveniently there is a hand bar in front of you to hold as you glance up at the screen again. Ghost. He’s the one whose tip is circling your tight and clenching hole. He suddenly slams into you and your legs almost buckle right then and there. He fills you up perfectly as you clench around him. His thrusts are relentless as you have no time to adjust.

You’re so close already as he slams against your spongy g-spot with every thrust. You moan and can’t help your self as you reach down with one hand and rub your clit.

It doesn’t take long before you cum around him and he’s not far behind. After a moment of coming down from your climaxes, he pulls out. You lean against the wall as you manage to pull your clothes back on. You press the red button on the door and as promised it opens and you step out to see Ghost with a clear smirk.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 27 - Blind Date

@wolfstarmicrofic May 27, word count 984

Sirius had agreed to go on a new TV show designed for you to basically pick a blind date. It was hosted by a blonde that he couldn’t quite remember her name. Nita, Tina? 

He was behind the scenes being prepped by a producer or something. 

He was placed behind the stage, ready to go on when he was called. With him was the presenter. He still couldn’t remember her name. She completely ignored him and barked orders at her poor PA. 

“Ready when you are Ms. Skeeter.” A woman with a headset and microphone said.

“Good, let’s get this over with.” She said with a total lack of enthusiasm. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s Blind Date, and here is your host, Ms Rita Skeeter!” The announcer told the audience. Rita burst through from the side of the stage, waving and blowing kisses at her cheering audience. 

“Hello and welcome to Blind Date.” Rita smiled, opening her arms wide. “We have three lovely young men all hoping to go on a blind date tonight and here they are!” She swept her arms to the side and that was the last Sirius saw, as he was promptly spun around so he couldn’t see the stage. 

“He shouldn’t have been left here!” Someone shouted. “He can’t see the contestants, that's the whole point of the show.”

He was rushed to another part of the backstage while Rita introduced the three men he was going to choose between. 

“Right you’re on,” He was suddenly pushed out a little door and onto the main stage. 

There was a single chair in the middle of the stage and a large partition, blocking his view of the others. 

“Hello, Sirius!” Rita gushed. “Sirius is from London and from what I’ve seen, all of our contestants will want to take him home.” Sirius sat in the chair, holding the cards with his pre-written questions. “Right, Sirius, you have your questions, so let’s get started!” The crowd clapped as Sirius cleared his throat.

“I’m a boy who likes a good time. I don’t like to be bored. If you could keep me entertained, what would we do? Er, contestant number 1.” He spoke clearly. 

“What an excellent question, Sirius, but let’s make sure to keep our answers clean gentlemen.” Rita spoke a bit louder over the partition. The crowd ate her words up.

“Well, I’d take you to my favourite spa and treat you to a bit of pampering and then, after that, I have a box at the theatre.” Contestant number 1 answered. Sirius pulled a face, he was bored already. 

“Er, thanks number 1. Number 2, same question.” He hoped it was better than the last. 

“I’d take you to the races and then out for an elegant dinner at the savoy before we head back to mine for drinks looking out over the Thames.” Was the answer number 2 gave. Sirius rolled his eyes, fat chance of that happening. He felt like giving up already. 

“Sounds like fun,” He tried to smile. “Number 3 your turn.” 

Number three took a second to answer. 

“I’d take you on a tour of London,” Oh lord, Sirius thought, all duds. “But the secret London. I know where the hidden passageways are and the gorier stories to tell. I’d probably end up at my favourite bookshop, which has a fireplace and café where we could curl up with a good book before we go out in the dark to search for the hundreds of ghosts that are meant to haunt London.” Sirius was literally on the edge of his seat. He didn’t need to hear anymore. He'd already decided who he wanted. 

“Oooo, such different answers,” Rita cooed. “Next question, Sirius,”

“Dogs or cats? For all three again.”

“Cat,”

“Neither,” That one got a boo.

“Dogs,” Sirius smiled. He shuffled to his last card. 

“How do you feel about motorbikes?” He had his fingers crossed. 

“Love, love, love, them,”

“Sorry, no. They don't agree with my hair.”

“Hate, not a chance you’ll get me on one.” Well, 2 out of 3 at least. 

“Alright Sirius, you’ve asked your questions, do you know who you’re going to pick?” Rita asked, trying to look serious. He nodded. 

“Yes, contestant number 3.” Cheers erupted from the crowd.

“Let’s see who you didn’t pick. Come on over number 1.” A tall dark-skinned handsome gentleman walked around the partition. “Kingsley, such a shame,” Rita shook her head. Sirius shook Kingsley's hand, and he walked off the stage. “Number 2,” Rita called. A blonde man, who’d clearly spent too much time on his appearance. “Poor, poor, Gilderoy. Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll find someone,” Gilderoy waved at the crowd and blew them kisses, forgetting to shake Sirius’s hand before he left. “And finally, the moment we’ve been waiting for. Sirius’s pick. Let me introduce Remus!” Rita cheered.

Remus walked around and Sirius felt his heart skip a beat. Remus looked shyly at him and rewarded him with a smile. Sirius forgot he was on a TV show and took Remus’s hand before trying to lead him off the stage. “Wait!” Rita called," we have to give you your getaway prize.” 

Reluctantly, Sirius led Remus back across the stage and waited for Rita to continue. “Well, Sirius and Remus, we are sending you on a weekend trip to the lake district. What do you think of that?”

“It sounds wonderful Rita, thank you very much. Now, if you don’t mind, this one’s got a tour to start.” That time he ignored everyone and he and Remus made their escape. 

“Hi,” He said once they were outside. 

“Hi,” Remus said back. Sirius knew just from sight that he and Remus would work out. So, being a bit cheeky, he pushed Remus up against the side of the recording studio and leaned in for a kiss. Remus closed the gap and that was that. 

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️

[cinewhore]

The Duchess of London (2)

Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, fighting, guns, fluff. 

A/N: Wrote the first part damn near a year ago! Wanted to finally finish it off. Please know that another part is highly unlikely! No beta. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist. 

Thomas Shelby ends up on your doorstep three months later. 

Technically, it was the door of the Gentlemen’s Club, Adonis, where you helped to manage the talent and had a few stocks invested in. 

If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed him entirely. Tommy remained seated in the back of the room near the door, one leg crossed over the other, fingers delicately grasping the rim of a glass. It was a talent of his, being able to blend into a room seamlessly while still maintaining a sense of distinctiveness. You couldn’t lie, the thought of seeing him again taunted you day after day. Thinking about his plump lips on yours, hands pressing against your neck- 

A throat clears. “I believe it’s your turn, Duchess.” 

You blink a few times, returning to the present. Sir Donald Chesnut fixes you with a stare, pool stick tapping the floor impatiently. 

Giving him your best innocent smile, you nod and saunter around the table. There were two of his stripes left compared to your four solids. The men who gathered to “watch” all gawked as you bent over the velvet lined table, dress straining against your backside. You’re sure to milk their attention for all its worth, a teeny frown sprawling across your face as you stand back up. 

“Must I repeat the rules of the game for you, miss? See those colored balls? You have to hit them into the holes. Do you understand?” Donald taunts, voice barely masking his mockery. 

You smile and shrug. “Gee, I just can’t seem to decide which one to hit, they’re all so pretty!” 

A few in the audience chuckle at the perceived naivete. Thomas takes a swig of his drink, watching your hands carefully. 

“Let me assist you then.” 

Donald pushes up against you, hands helping to position yours correctly. Upon steading them, you attempt to hit one of your balls but fail to do so. You jerk back into him as you laugh, hands fanning at your cleavage.

“I’m not even sure how I got the other balls in, must be a lady’s luck.” you comment. 

“Sure.” Donald nods, already gearing up for his next shot. He sinks his two remaining balls with ease but misses the eight ball by a hair. 

“Oh! You almost had it. Maybe I can catch up.” 

“Good luck.” Donald tuts, hands grazing your ass as he passes behind you. 

The act drops immediately and you get to work cleaning up the table. The balls clinking against each other before they sink into the pockets fills you with such pleasure you fight hard to maintain your poker face. 

The eight ball lays just a few inches away from the right corner pocket, albeit at an odd angle. If you weren’t careful, it was an easy shot to miss and you didn’t want to give this fucker a chance to win. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun with your prey. 

“Are you gonna call it?” Donald asks. 

“Eight ball, middle right pocket. 

Donald huffs out something that sounded like a mix between a snort and a sigh. “No fuckin’ way. You can’t make that!” 

You don’t take your eyes off of him as you station yourself off center to the ball, cocking the pool stick until the weight of the wood feels comfortable in your hands. Sucking in a small breath, you let the stick slip through your fingers as you exhale. You could feel everyone else in the room hold their own collective breath as the ball pings around the table, making haphazard patterns until it slowly nears the pocket. 

The eight ball all but comes to a complete stop before it finally drops into the pocket, the white ball close behind. You refuse to move, afraid that any sudden shift could cause the other ball to fall in behind it.

The ball edges you as it nears the pocket but you release a sigh of relief as it comes to a halt. You don't dare celebrate openly, just smile and wink at Donald, who was turning more red by the minute. Murmurs fly and papers shuffle as the men protest about their lost money.

Thomas finally approaches you as the others file out of the room, for sure in search of ways to better their bruised egos. 

You don’t pay him any mind as you rack the balls up. 

“You look like a professional.” 

“You can too. Would you like to learn how to play?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I can keep steady hands.” 

You hum in response, eyes shifting up to meet his. “That’s unfortunate.” 

He is quiet as he comes to stand in front of you, hands reaching up to brush against your cheek. “Is there someplace we can talk?” 

You pour Tommy another glass of whiskey before settling on the plush cushions next to him. The office space you acquired wasn’t as glamorous as you’d hoped it’d be but it provided a sense of solace where you could conduct business without hosting unwanted people in your home.

“So, is this a visit for pleasure or business? Perhaps both?” 

Tommy knocks back his drink, throat bobbing as the cool liquor coats his mouth. “Marry me.” 

You sputter out a laugh, shaking your head. “Pardon me?” 

“I need you to marry me.” 

“No,” you hold out a hand to stop him as you notice that he’s reaching into his coat pocket. “Have you gone fucking mad?” 

“I need to form an alliance with the Elephants and this is the best way in.” 

He fixes you with that stare and for a moment you’re sucked into his abyss, thinking about the possibility of becoming Mrs. Thomas Shelby but as quickly as the thought comes, it fades. This wasn’t your fight and you found it hardly fair that you were being used as some sort of pawn. You were familiar with his antics and knew that anyone being used by the Shelby clan typically resulted in death. As it so happens, you were pretty fond of your life at the moment. 

You stand up from your seat abruptly, pacing back and forth. “I can’t marry you, Tommy.” 

“I know it’s not an ideal proposal but you’ll have full control over the wedding details-” 

Stopping mid pace, you turn to face your childhood friend. “What, did the war fuck with your hearing? I said I won’t marry you.” 

Tommy drops his head, reaching back inside his pockets in search of a cigarette. He gets up to lurk near you, admiring the sour look on your face. “Is this how Marcus turned you down, eh?” 

You swallow thickly, resisting to meet his gaze. Of course he knew about Marcus, he knew about everything and then some. The all knowing Shelby’s with their endless amount of dirt, ready to throw it on anyone who stood in their way. 

“I don’t know to whom you are referring.” you lie, terribly so. Tommy could hear the pained yearning in your voice. 

“Marcus Toussaint, old money from the Toussaints of France. Made their fortune from coal. He’s the youngest of four brothers, the only eligible bachelor left. You two met in Egypt, he was financing an archeological dig and you were there on holiday. Nights spent filled with mutual lust and passion, I assume. He buys you an estate in the Mediterranean, where you spend the majority of the summer.” 

Your eyes slip close at the mention of Egypt, a time where you felt you could truly be yourself and not be on guard all the time. Marcus was delicate, thoughtful. He never questioned you about your past and was very encouraging about you wanting to pursue artistic hobbies. He was the one who taught you how to play pool. 

“Unfortunately, your summer was cut short when he was forced to return home and he decided to take you with him. He wanted to make you a part of the family but they knew all about you and decided that a two dollar whore from the slums of Brimingham who made her living spending long nights in the beds of men she did not know was not good enough for Marcus. You try so hard to fit in with that crowd, prancing around in your fancy gowns with your nose held up so high that you still can’t smell the shit on your shoe you’re tracking into their houses.” 

A rage you had learned to smother was bubbling beneath the brim of your being, a feeling you had never thought would be directed toward Tommy. You knew what he was doing, plunging a knife so deep into your heart and twisting until he got what he wanted out of you. It was all a mistake. You have been used over and over all your life. You were not going to be used by him, even if it cost you your life. 

You lick your lips which have since gone dry, forcing your face to return to stone. “It’s always a delight to see you, Mr. Shelby. Travel safely.” 

With that, you turn on your heels and exit the room in silent fury. A pair of observant eyes watch you from the stairs above, then switch to regard the back of Tommy as he leaves a few minutes after you. 

You normally spent most nights at the club but decided it’s worth it to leave and blow steam off at home, your head a jumbled mess. Everything Tommy said was true but what he didn’t know is that Marcus had told you his family made prior preparations for him to marry the daughter of a tycoon and that he had no say in the matter. You were silly enough to believe him. 

You were so caught up in what had just occurred that you hadn’t noticed you were being followed until a hand clamps over your mouth, a black hood shoved over your head. 

Tommy watches absent-mindedly as the young woman slips back into her dress, dancing leisurely to the music coming out of the bar a few blocks down. The window was cracked and she was thankful, having put up with enough of Tommy’s smoking. He was on his third cigarette since they finished fucking and she was sure by the time she actually left, he would have finished half the pack. 

There’s a knock at the door and the woman stops to look at Thomas expectantly. He doesn’t move an inch but jerks his head near the sound. The woman is cautious as she opens it but cracks the door wider when it’s revealed to be a bellhop. 

“Delivery for 317.” 

The woman grabs the silver covered platter and thanks the boy. She smiles as she brings it over to Thomas. 

“Did you order me something special?” 

“No.” 

His bluntness doesn’t deter her, she simply shrugs and searches the vanity for her earrings. Tommy takes the lid off to uncover a note folded in half. 

The Royale. 8pm. 

The hood is snatched off unceremoniously and suddenly you’re in the storage room of a butcher shop, in a chair with your hands tied behind your back. Some of the girls you used to run with when you were younger surround you, with Bobbi aka Big Red at the center. 

You give your best smile. “Ladies, are we starting a sewing circle? Book club? I hear Agatha’s new mystery is to die for.” 

The first punch comes from Janie on your left. You rock your jaw, hands straining against the rope. “I take it that you didn’t like the novel.” 

The second one is from Georgiana. The bitch. To think you were there for her when she found out her husband was screwing her sister. 

After the fourth punch, this one to your gut, you were beginning to get fed up. 

“Alright, does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

“You’ve gotten too big for your britches, that’s what.” Big Red finally speaks up. She took over operations when the leader you knew, Mary, got locked up. Operations almost went to shit but you had to hand it to her, Bobbi knew how to run a tight ship. She wasn’t as popular with the women and laid down stricter rules. Several of which you had broken. 

“I don’t have time for riddles, Bobbi.” you chide. 

Bobbi snaps her finger and Georgiana brings a chair over so that Bobbi could sit in front of you. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, missy. When Mary put me in charge, I swore I’d keep her seat warm until she got out.” 

You tsk. “Last I checked, you squeezed your fat ass in her chair.” 

That earned you a hard punch. You needed to dial it back if you wanted to keep your face intact. 

“You’ve been fucking one of the Shelby’s.” Janie purrs, popping her gum obnoxiously. 

“Not just any Shelby, Thomas Shelby.” Georgiana tacks on. 

Big Red makes a motion with her fingers and the clucking chickens get quiet, always obedient for their mother hen. “You know fraternizing with a family like theirs is off limits. Do you know what could happen to us if you were caught with him? We struck a decent deal with Sabini and the last thing I need is for you to jeopardize everything we’ve worked for because you wanted to get your cunt licked.” 

You knew that a few girls were messing around with some men who worked for Sabini but you didn’t realize it had gotten so deep. Outside of Thomas and his boys in Birmingham, Sabini had the next biggest family in the area with a huge control over land. It wasn’t like anyone was stealing from them but nothing hurt men more than a broken heart and bruised ego. 

“Well, since you like spreading your legs for dirty men like Thomas, poppet, you’re gonna do us a huge favor and use that pretty little face of yours to sway him into staying another night in London. Get him to this location,” Bobbi stuffs a slip of paper down your bra. “We’ll handle the rest.”

Big Red puts your cheek tenderly before snapping her fingers. Georgiana and Janie descend on you like vultures and the only sound echoing through the room is muffled grunts of you getting your ass kicked. 

Thomas flips out his pocket watch once more. 

8:22pm. 

It was unlike you to be late but he figured it was for good reasons. Women and their unnecessary grooming. Growing up around Ada and practically being raised by Polly got him used to being late for certain functions. The waiter enters again and Tommy is ready to refuse another offer on refilling his glass but stops once he sees that you’re being escorted in. 

You were mesmerizing. Your body was wrapped in red silk, the material caressing your figure in all the right places. White gloves covered your arms up to your elbows and the front of your dress drapes downward in a cowl design, showing a sufficient amount of cleavage to leave the wandering eye wanting more. To complete your ensemble, you wore a tilted hat with a veil to cover the majority of your face.

Thomas is a gentleman as he stands while you enter, only returning to his seat once you sit on your own. 

“You’re late.” 

You cock an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re still here.” 

As if the waiter was eagerly awaiting for you to take your seat, you barely have time to set down your purse before the first course is brought out. It looked decadent but your stomach was still rolling from earlier. You weren’t sure when your appetite would return. 

Thomas doesn’t touch his food either. “So, I take it you’ve changed your mind.” 

You take a long sip of wine, swishing the red liquid around the glass before knocking the rest of it back. “Something like that.” 

The cigarette makes an appearance. He lights it, waiting for you to continue. 

“Look at us. Both came from nothing and here we are. Eating at the finest restaurants, wearing the finest clothes, sitting at tables that otherwise we would’ve been shooed from. And for what? Money?” 

Thommy nods, almost as if you’d ask a rhetorical question. “Yes. Money, power, control. I’m taking care of my family just like you would take care of yours.” 

“I have no family.” you state, voice a whisper. 

“That’s why I’m asking you to be a part of mine.” 

The door to the private room swings open and the waiter appears, yet again. 

“For fucks sake!” Tommy yells at the poor fellow. 

“My apologies, Mr. Shelby but your other guests have arrived.” 

Tommy steals a quick glance at you. “I don’t have any other guests.”

You don’t dare turn around in your seat as the echo of numerous footsteps sound off, trailing from the hallway until they reach the dining area. 

“Well, well. Looks like the gang's all here.” 

The voice sends a chill down your spine. Amelio Sabini. He wasn’t head honcho but far enough up on the food chain for it to mean something. 

Tommy clears his throat and puts out his cigarette. He doesn’t stand. 

“What? No warm greeting for me or my brothers? Alright then.” 

The vultures descend on the table, squeezing in where they could and kicking their feet up. You recognize some of the women on their arms from the club. 

“Amelio. You’re interrupting my dinner.” 

“Really? Cause if I remember correctly, we were invited. I know you didn’t start eating without me, Tommy. That’s bad business.” 

“What’s bad business is discussing it in front of the women. You lot,” he points to the scantily clad girls. “Out.” 

The girls all cling to their men, throwing each other nervous glances. You envied them just a little. To be pretty and clueless. It wouldn’t get them very far though. 

Amelio gives a signal and they suck their teeth, sulking back out into the main part of the restaurant. You attempt to walk out with them but a goon keeps you firmly in your chair. 

“Where are you heading off to, puddin’? You’re the main dish.” 

“I take it you’re acquainted?” Tommy asks but you hear the condescending tone laced in the question. 

“She’s the one that invited us. Knows the Royale is my favorite. Have you tried the raspberry and chocolate souffle?” Amelio gives a chef's kiss. “Eccellente!” 

The men squabble as you mildly disassociate, understanding that this was going to end in one of two ways: you live or you die. And if you did die, Big Red was gonna get what’s coming to her, that’s for damn sure. 

Your small break from reality is abruptly ended when the cold metal of a pistol is shoved into your hands.

Your hands graze the gun, a once familiar object now feeling foreign.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Amelio coos. “Let’s not draw this out any longer, eh? We all know how this ends. I don’t want to draw this out any further. Va bene?” 

You nod your head slowly, steadying your grip on the weapon. You aim the gun directly at Tommy, unblinking. “Sorry it had to happen this way.” 

Tommy gives a half shrug. “Likewise.” 

You’re quick to pull the trigger and watch as the bullet whizzes by Tommy’s head and glides straight into the neck of the waiter. The platter in his hands falls, the Beretta masked as the “souffle” tumbling to the ground. 

And just like that, the room cascades into a full out battle. Tommy wastes no time in grabbing his own gun and you throw yourself into the heat of action, taking out two more of Amelio’s men before you get clipped in the left arm. You throw yourself down on the ground in search of cover. 

Arthur and the other Blinders crowd in from the kitchen, helping Tommy to clear out the room. Finn is careful as he drags you towards the back door, where a car is waiting. 

“We can’t just leave them there!” you scream through the searing pain. 

“They’ll be fine, trust me!”

Before you could argue your point further, the doors to the car get slammed shut and you’re whisked away from the scene. 

Making it back to a small office Tommy owned was nothing short of a miracle. You had never seen or been a part of such a gunfight. However, it wasn’t the shooting that pissed you off. 

“I know this was your idea.” you murmur, wincing as Tommy pours more alcohol in your wound. 

“I told Big Red to persuade you, didn’t know that meant leaving you with a bruised eye.” Tommy says, double checking to make sure he cleaned the graze thoroughly. 

You shake your head. “She’s got it out for me, apparently. You could’ve just asked-” 

“I did ask you. This was reassurance.” 

You pull away from his touch, a disapproving look etched into your face. “It’s like you don’t even trust me! We’re cut from the same cloth, remember?” 

Tommy puts away the whiskey, reaching around you to grab at the gauze. He wraps it around your arm tenderly. Satisfied with his work, he takes a pack of smokes out of his pocket, tucking one between his lips. 

He saddles up to where you’re perched on his desk, spreading your legs to stand between them.

“I never doubted you once. There were things that needed to be in place and I wanted to make sure it happened.” 

The deep pools of his eyes drag you under and once again, you find yourself pulled into his orbit. No matter how hard your gut alerts you to the dangers of falling in love with Thomas Shelby, you ignore the blaring alarms and steel yourself. He wasn’t like the others, happy to parade you around on their arm like some sort of trophy. You had a mind, a working spirit that was hard to break and a reputation to uphold. You didn’t want to be the dainty, seen but not heard wife. 

You wanted to be his equal. 

Plucking the cigarette from his lips, you take a quick puff from it, exhaling slowly. “I should go.” 

“I’ve arranged for John to take you to the hotel. We didn’t have much time to grab clothing from your place but I can have Pol take you shopping tomorrow, if you’d like.” 

“You got me a room?” 

Tommy chuckles slightly at the question, demeanor unwavering as he takes a small metal item from his pocket, flipping it in-between his fingers like you’ve seen him do many times before with a coin. 

“I got us a suite.” 

You stare at the key, understanding that it signified much more than a cozy night in. Accepting this key and going to see him meant that you were tethering yourself to a man you swore was just casual. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that level of commitment. 

He pries your hand open, setting the room key in it before closing it gently. Nearly forgetting how to breathe, your eyes flutter close as Tommy seals the deal with a kiss. 

He runs a lone finger down your cheek, his own lips plump with the sheen of your affections. 

“My proposal still stands.” 

Tommy says nothing else as he exits the office, doors groaning in protest at his departure. You open up your hand again. Would you still remain the Duchess or become a Queen?

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 24 Chapter 24 | sweet sixteen⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

The stadium buzzed with energy as the afternoon sun cast long shadows over the arena. The echoes of laughter and cheers filled the air as the recreational activities drew to a close, leaving the audience in high spirits. The side games had been a whirlwind of fun and competition, with students from all courses showcasing their unique talents and quirks in a variety of mini-events.

Present Mic's voice crackled through the speakers, his enthusiasm infectious. "[Yo, yo, yo! Ladies and gentlemen, let's give it up for our incredible students who rocked the side games! We saw some wild moves, crazy quirks, and epic fun! But now, it's time to shift gears and turn up the heat! Are you ready for the main event?!]"

The crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable as they eagerly awaited the next phase of the festival.

"[Alright, heroes and future pros, feast your eyes on the scoreboard! Here are the lucky contestants moving on to the One-on-One Fighting Tournament! Drum roll, please!]"

With a dramatic flourish, the large video screen above the stadium flickered to life, displaying the names and faces of the fourteen students who had qualified for the tournament. The names were listed in order of their team rankings from the Cavalry Battle.

_Scoreboard_

1st Place ~ Team Todoroki: 1.Todoroki Shoto 2.Kaminari Denki 3.Yaoyorozu Momo 4.Iida Tenya

2nd Place ~ Team Bakugo: 5.Bakugo Katsuki 6.Ashido Mina 7.Sero Hanta 8.Kirishima Eijiro

3rd Place ~ Team Shinso: 9.Shinso Hitoshi 10.Akuma Y/N

4th Place ~ Team Midoriya: 11.Midoriya Izuku 12.Tokoyami Fumikage 13.Uraraka Ochaco 14.Hatsume Mei

Present Mic leaned forward, peering dramatically at the screen before spinning around to face the audience, slamming both hands down on the announcer's desk, causing a loud thud that echoed through the stadium. "[Wait a minute, folks! I'm counting fourteen contestants! That's...hold on...14!? That's not quite enough for a full bracket! Does this mean we'll have to pit the two strongest fighters against each other for double the action? Double the elimination?! What ever shall we do??]" The man gasped into the mic before turning his attention to his colleague. "[Hey Midnight! Is there any way we can we add more fire to this showdown?? Maybe get more contenders in here? I want this tournament to last longer, and I know you all do too!]"

The camera panned to Midnight, who stood near the center of the field. With a sly smile, she cracked her whip, the sharp crack reverberating through the arena. "I see no reason why we shouldn't spice things up a bit. Let's allow the next two highest-scoring students to join the fray and make this a sweet sixteen!"

The screen updated, adding two new names to the list of contestants:

15.Shiozaki Ibara 16.Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

You exhaled deeply as you left the restroom, relieved to finally be out of the cheerleading outfit and back into the Sports' Festival unfirm. As you walked back towards the stadium, the muffled cheers and Present Mic's amplified voice filtered through the walls, growing louder with each step.

"[And there you have it, folks! Welcome Ibara Shiozaki and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu to the tournament! Now that's what I call a proper lineup! Are you ready to see these heroes-in-training throw down? This is gonna be EPIC! Grab your popcorn, your soda, and get comfy, because we're about to witness some serious action!]"

You paused at the entrance to the seating area, glancing up at the large screen that displayed the newly updated tournament bracket. The addition of Shiozaki and Tetsutetsu brought the total number of contestants to sixteen, ensuring a full and balanced competition.

Just as you were about to head to your class's designated section, a familiar voice called out to you.

"Hey, Akuma-san!" You turned to see Kirishima jogging towards you, his face lighting up with excitement as he caught up. "Did you hear? Midoriya's up next!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with anticipation.

You forced a polite smile, concealing your growing annoyance.  Biting back the urge to snap. Instead, you nodded, your tone measured. "Oh? Well, can't miss that, can we? If you'll excuse—" Before you could finish excusing yourself to your class's section, Mina's high-pitched squeal reached your ears. "Akuma-san, over here!" She bounded over, her eyes sparkling with excitement, followed closely by Sero and Kaminari.

Mina, grabbing your hand, "C'mon, you can sit with us to watch! It'll be so much fun!" She began pulling you towards their section before you could utter a word of protest.

Sero chimed in, a playful grin on his face: "Yeah, Akuma-san, it'll be way more interesting with you there."

"Besides, who wouldn't want to watch a match with such a captivating view?" Kaminari adds with a wink, causing Mina to roll her eyes.

Despite your mild annoyance, you allowed yourself to be guided to the stands, settling into a seat between Mina and Ojiro. You glanced around, noting the large screen displayed the details of the upcoming fight.

Midoriya and Shinso stood at opposite ends of the arena, their expressions a mix of determination and focus. The crowd's murmurs hushed as the anticipation built, all eyes on the two contestants.

"[Welcome to the first match of the finals tournament! It's Midoriya Izuku from the hero course versus Shinso Hitoshi from general studies! The rules are simple: immobilize your opponent or force them outta the ring! You can also win by getting the other person to cry uncle. Let's get ready to rumble!]"

The crowd erupted in cheers as Midnight raised her whip, signaling the start of the match.

"[Ready? Begin!]"

You watched intently as Midoriya and Shinso faced each other. Then, Midoriya's body suddenly went rigid, his eyes widening in shock as he froze in place.

Ojiro, beside you, leaned in, whispering urgently, "I warned him not to say anything!"

"[The fight has just begun and Midoriya Izuku is... completely frozen? He's not moving a muscle! What's with that look on his face? Could this be a Quirk at work? Shinso seems to have Midoriya completely stunned! He didn't stand out in the first rounds at all, but it's possible Hitoshi's crazy powerful! Who could've imagined this turn of events? That's the Festival for ya! Ha-ha!]"

You narrowed your eyes, focusing on Shinso's calm, almost smug expression as he began to circle the frozen Midoriya, a smirk playing on his lips, "You're lucky to have been so blessed, Midoriya Izuku. Now turn around and walk out of bounds like the good little hero you are."

Midoriya's body obeyed, his movements robotic as he began to walk towards the edge of the ring. The crowd gasped, and you could feel the tension in the air as everyone watched in disbelief.

"[Uh—What?! Ah! Midoriya's obeying him! And there you have it! Shinso Hitoshi! His Quirk: Brainwashing! When an opponent answers his question, it flips a switch in their minds, forcing them to do whatever he says. Not every question does it, though. He only brainwashes when he wants to. Not very flashy...]"

Aizawa's calm, analytical voice cut through Present Mic's excitement. "[This is a perfect example of why the entrance exam isn't rational.]"

"[Huh? Why's that, Eraser?]"

"[Since we're on to the individual matches, I had some information compiled about our final competitors. Shinso failed the practical exam to get into the hero course. Since he also applied for general studies, he probably figured that would happen. His Quirk is incredibly strong, but that entrance test consisted of fighting faux villains. Robots. It gave a huge advantage to those who had physical superpowers they could show off.]" Aizawa continued, his tone measured: "[Despite his abilities, Shinso never stood a chance at passing.]"

You watched as Midoriya's feet edged closer to the boundary, his eyes wide with panic. His internal struggle was evident, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he tried to resist.

.☆.          .✩.                   .☆.

Midoriya's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and frustration as he struggled against the invisible chains binding his will.

What's happening? My body's moving on its own. I feel like my brain is full of fog. I can't concentrate. No! Not like this. Gotta stop! Dammit!

Desperation clawed at him, and he fought to recall Ojiro's warning about Shinsou's Quirk. The memory was hazy, slipping through his grasp like sand, but the urgency of the situation sharpened his focus.

I fell for it, even after Ojiro warned me about his power. I'm an idiot. This is all my fault!

🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:

In the bustling halls of the Sports Festival's recreational area, Ojiro leaned closer to Midoriya, his expression serious as he recounted his experience with Shinso. "His Quirk is that he can control other people. It's powerful, but he can't use it unless you answer his questions. He didn't get into my head until I responded to something he said."

Midoriya's eyes wide with concern. "So I have to be careful not to say anything, or I'll lose for sure."

Ojiro nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Well, not exactly. Even if he gets you, there's still a chance. At the beginning of the cavalry battle, after he approached me, I don't remember anything until I bumped into another person. It was like I woke up, and suddenly I could think clearly."

"So that bump broke his hold?"

"Maybe. It's only a guess, but it's something to keep in mind."

Midoriya's eyes darted around, searching for anything that could jolt his body back under his own control. His feet continued their march towards the edge, each step bringing him closer to disqualification.

Even in the faced of disqualification, Midoriya couldn't help but analyze his situation: Still... I don't know how much of a shock it would take to break his spell. And in a one-on-one match, I can't count on an outside force intervening to help me.

The only part of his body under his control were his eyes, and he scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on familiar faces. Each person he saw, each pair of worried eyes, felt like a weight pressing down on him. He was letting them down. He was letting everyone down.

I can't stop it. I'm going to lose. It's all over. Even though... so many people are counting on me... Everyone is watching... Everyone!

As despair gripped his heart, his eyes finally landed on you. Your gaze met his, and for a brief, electric moment, everything else faded away. Your lips moved, forming a single, commanding word: "Move."

A jolt of clarity shot through him, igniting a spark of defiance in his chest. His heart pounded in his ears, and the fog clouding his mind seemed to lift, replaced by the fierce determination in your eyes.

What... is... that? Wait.

Shinso paced behind Midoriya, his voice dripping with mockery. He watched Midoriya's struggle with a cold satisfaction, convinced of his impending victory. "Even with a Quirk like this, I have my own dreams of becoming a great hero. So, lose for me."

The edge of the platform loomed closer, the boundary line a stark reminder of his precarious situation. Just as his foot hovered above the line, Midoriya's eyes widened in sudden clarity. In a desperate act of defiance, he summoned all his strength and snapped his own fingers, the sharp crack resonating through the arena.

Present Mic's voice rose in excitement at the spectacle. "[What's this? Midoriya stopped just in time!]"

The crowd erupted into cheers, their relief and exhilaration echoing through the stadium.

Aizawa, his eyes narrowing with interest, saying. "[His finger. He broke one in order to stop Shinso.]"

Pain seared through Midoriya's hand, but his mind was clear, his resolve unwavering. He flexed his finger, the agony grounding him in reality.

Shinso's smug expression dissolved into shock and disbelief. His eyes widened as he took a step back, the confidence in his stance faltering. "No. Impossible. You're not supposed to be able to fight back! What did you do?"

Midoriya's gaze locked onto Shinso, his eyes blazing with determination. Though instead of answering vocally, all he did was raise a brow.

Internally, Midoriya didn't have an answer for the purplenette—noy yet anyways. All he knows is that something extraordinary just happened. I'm certain I'm the one who used One For All. But I'm not the one who moved my fingers just now. It was like someone I didn't know came into my mind. And for a second, it was clear. Could it be—Later. I don't have time to figure things out right now. I have to focus.

Panic flickered in Shinso's eyes as he glanced towards the crowd. His gaze landed on you, and he saw the bored, almost dismissive expression on your face. A flicker of panic crossed his features, desperation clawing at him. He won't answer. Did he figure it out? No. He's known. That damn dog-monkey must have told him. I have to get him to talk again.

Desperation tinged his voice as he tried to provoke a response from Midoriya. "Come on, say something. I didn't know you had so much power in your fingers. I'm kind of jealous of you."

Midoriya's resolve hardened, his thoughts a whirlwind of determination and empathy. I know what that jealousy feels like. I've been there.

Shinso scoffs at the lack of an answer, his voice bitter. "Thanks to the way my Quirk works, I've always been at a big disadvantage. But someone as blessed as you wouldn't understand that."

I get it. Even though he's right. I have been blessed.

Shinso's frustration mounted, his voice laced with bitterness and desperation. "You're lucky enough to have a heroic Quirk! It'll be so easy for you to reach your goal!"

Midoriya's eyes softened momentarily, a flicker of understanding passing over his face. I've been blessed by others. That's why I'm here!

Shinso's voice rose to a shout, his desperation evident. "Say something, dammit!"

Midoriya's  resolve crystallized, eyes blazing with determination. Still...I can't lose this. I'll do it for her...for them!

Shinsou's frustration boiled over, his voice cracking with anger. "You've gotta be kidding me! Get out of this ring, you lucky brat!"

With a fierce cry, Midoriya surged forward, his fist connecting with Shinso's chest in a powerful punch. The impact sent Shinso sprawling out of bounds, his body hitting the ground with a thud.

Midnight's voice rings out over the cheers of the crowd. "Shinso is out of bounds! Midoriya advances to the next match!"

"[And with that expertly performed throw, we have our first victor of the finals! Class -A's Izuku Midoriya!]"

The stadium erupted in cheers, the roar of the crowd a thunderous wave of excitement. Midoriya stood at the center of the ring, his chest heaving with exertion, but his eyes were bright with triumph. He glanced around, taking in the overwhelming support from the audience, a mix of relief and exhilaration washing over him.

He looked up at the stands, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment. You gave a small, approving nod, acknowledging his victory before quickly scurrying to sit with your classmates before Mina and the others noticed.

"[He focused his power like he did in the fitness test and used the throw from combat training. It's not just that he's learning from his experiences: he's using every trick he's picked up to improve his odds.]" Aizawa noted with a professional flare.

Present Mic nodded enthusiastically, his grin wide as he continued his commentary. "[Oh, yeah! That was actually kind of a boring first match, kids. But both of you fought bravely. Let's show them some love, everyone!]"

The applause swelled, a sea of clapping hands and cheering voices celebrating the efforts of both competitors. Midoriya's gaze flickered towards Shinso, who was still on the ground, a mix of defeat and frustration etched across his features. Shinso slowly got to his feet, his eyes downcast, but he squared his shoulders, accepting his defeat with a grim determination.

As Midoriya walked back towards the waiting area, the crowd's cheers continued to resonate, the excitement of the tournament reaching new heights. The first battle had set the tone for the intense and unpredictable matches to come, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for what lay ahead.

☆

☆

Seated amongst your classmates—with you strategically seated between Kendo and Monoma—because, according to the blonde, it's to ensure safety from the "fake 1-A heroes from stealing you away," you watched as the seats around you buzzed with energy, your classmates' excitement palpable as they eagerly awaited the next match.

Suddenly, Present Mic's voice boomed across the stadium, drawing everyone's attention back to the arena. "[Enough standing around. Now welcome to the ring, our next players!]"

The spotlight swung to the center of the arena, illuminating Shoto Todoroki and Hanta Sero as they stepped onto the platform. The contrast between their expressions was stark—Sero's nervous determination clashed with Todoroki's cool, impassive demeanor.

"[He's got skills! But at the expense of some really creepy-looking elbows. From the Hero Course, it's Sero Hanta!]"

"That was uncalled for," Sero muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a wry grin.

"[Versus an early frontrunner in the competition who's way too strong for his own good! Someone who rightfully got into the Hero Course based on recommendations! It's Todoroki Shoto!]"

The crowd's cheers swelled as Todoroki's name was announced, a mixture of awe and anticipation rippling through the spectators. You leaned forward slightly, your eyes narrowing as you focused on the two competitors.

"[And now, for the second match of the finals. Ready?]"

Sero scratched the back of his neck, staring back at Todoroki's blank face. "Well, I don't really feel—"

Present Mic cut the teen off, shouting, "[Begin!]"

"—like I can win this fight. But, man—" Sero didn't waste a second, launching into his attack with a swift, decisive movement. His tape shot out, wrapping around Todoroki with a practiced precision, his face set in a determined grimace. "—I don't feel like losing, either!"

"[That attack could throw his opponent out of bounds! A brilliant, surprise opening from the underdog! Way to start off strong, Sero!]" Present Mic announces.

The tape wrapped tightly around Todoroki, and tried Sero pulling with all his might. For a moment, it seemed like his strategy might succeed, but with a sudden, precise movement, Todoroki used his feet to freeze the ground beneath him.

The ice spread rapidly, creating a shockwave that sent a burst of cold air rippling through the arena. Sero's eyes widened as he struggled to maintain his grip, the ice forming faster than he could react.

"Is that... an earthquake? What the heck is goin' on?" Monoma muttered beside you with wide eyes.

The ice attack created a massive wave, quickly encompassing Sero. The cold bit into his skin, freezing him in place as the ice continued to spread, leaving half the entire festival arena encased in a shimmering, frozen expanse.

"Holy crap." Sero's voice was muffled by the ice, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident as he managed a weak response. "Um... Don't you think you went overboard?"

Midnight, standing on the edge of the frozen section, raised her whip to get the crowd's attention. "Tell the truth, Sero. Can you move at all?"

"Are you kidding? Obviously not. My body is freezing!"

The crowd gasped, the magnitude of Todoroki's ice attack sinking in. The spectacle left the audience in awe, their cheers mingling with murmurs of astonishment.

Midnight swung her whip in the air with a resounding whack. "It's official. Sero has been immobilized! Todoroki advances to the second round!"

The announcement echoed through the stadium, the cheers intensifying as the reality of Todoroki's power set in. The audience erupted into applause, a chorus of "Nice try!" reverberating through the stands.

Todoroki turned to walk away, but not before throwing Sero a quick apology over his shoulder. "Sorry about that. It was a bit much. I was angry, is all."

You watched Todoroki as he left the arena, his expression unchanged despite the overwhelming display of power. The intensity of his attack and the ease with which he had executed it left a lasting impression, a clear testament to his capabilities.

Sometime after Todoroki's icy aftermath melted away, Present Mic's booming voice echoed across the stadium, rallying the crowd for the next battle. "[And now, let's welcome our next competitors! This match promises to be a real shocker!]"

The spotlight shifted, illuminating the next contenders as they stepped onto the stage. On one side was Kaminari Denki, a confident grin plastered across his face. Opposite him stood Shiozaki Ibara, her calm demeanor contrasting with the electricity crackling in the air around Kaminari.

"[Ready for a jolt? From the Hero Course, it's Kaminari Denki! And his opponent, bringing the power of nature itself, it's Shiozaki Ibara from Class 1-B!]"

Kaminari shot a cocky smile at Shiozaki, his confidence almost palpable. "Hey, Shiozaki! How about we grab a bite to eat after this match? You know, to comfort you after your inevitable loss." He chuckled, his eyes sparking with mischief. "This match is gonna be over in seconds."

Shiozaki's eyes narrowed slightly, her expression serene but resolute. She turned away from Kaminari, her hair coiling around her like a protective shield.

"[Oooh~, someone's got confidence! Let's see if Kaminari's got what it takes!]"

The starting signal blared, and Kaminari wasted no time, electricity surging through him as he prepared to unleash his attack. "Indiscriminate Shock: 1.3 Million Volts!"

Electricity crackled and surged from Kaminari, the air around him shimmering with the raw power of his Quirk. The crowd gasped, the sheer magnitude of his attack electrifying the atmosphere. The bolts of lightning arced towards Ibara, threatening to engulf her.

However, Shiozaki remained unfazed. With a fluid, almost graceful movement, she commanded her vine-like hair to form a protective barrier around her. "Shield!" The vines wove together, creating a thick shield that absorbed the brunt of Kaminari's attack.

The electricity sizzled and sparked against the vines, but Shiozaki's shield held strong. Kaminari's confident grin faltered as he watched his attack dissipate harmlessly.

"[Whoa! Shiozaki's not going down without a fight! Look at that defense!]"

As the last of Kaminari's electricity fizzled out, he stumbled, his usual cocky expression replaced by a vacant, dopey grin. His attack had backfired, leaving him in his infamous 'dumb state.' "Heh, I think I overdid it..."

Shiozaki seized the opportunity, her vines snapping forward with swift precision. They coiled around Kaminari, lifting him off the ground and suspending him in mid-air. His arms and legs were bound, rendering him completely immobile.

Shiozakis voice was calm, almost gentle as she addressed her opponent. "May the Lord forgive your sins, Kaminari-san."

With a flick of her wrist, the vines tightened, securing Kaminari in place. He dangled helplessly, a bewildered smile plastered on his face as he struggled against the restraints.

"[And there you have it! Shiozaki's defense and counterattack have Kaminari wrapped up—literally!]"

Midnight, still chilled from the lingering effects of Todoroki's earlier attack, stepped forward, her whip cracking sharply in the air. "Kaminari Denki is immobilized! Shiozaki Ibara wins!"

The crowd erupted in applause, cheers mingling with laughter at the unexpected outcome. In the stands, Tetsutetsu leaped to his feet, pumping his fists in the air. "Yeah! That's how you do it, Shiozaki! Show them what Class 1-B is made of!"

Monoma, not missing a beat, leaned over the railing, his voice dripping with mockery as he taunted the Hero Course students. "See that, 1-A? That's how a real hero fights! Too bad your electric wonder boy couldn't keep up!"

You glanced at Kendo out of the corner of your eye. Seeing this, your Vice-President's hand shot out and delivered a swift chop to the back of his neck.

Monoma yelped, holding the sore spot. "Hey, what was—"

"Enough, Monoma. Let's show some class," Kendo hissed with narrowed eyes before falling silent.

Monoma grumbled, rubbing his neck, but reluctantly fell silent. You couldn't help but smirk at the exchange, finding it amusing no matter how often it occurs.

The excitement in the stadium didn't wane as the next match was announced. "[Alright, folks, let's keep this momentum going! Up next, we've got a match that's sure to be full of surprises!]"

The spotlight shifted once more, illuminating Iida Tenya and Hatsume Mei as they took their positions on the stage. Iida stood tall, his posture rigid with determination, while Hatsume's eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement.

"[From the Hero Course, it's the speedster himself, Iida Tenya! And his opponent, ready to dazzle us with her gadgets, from the Support Course, it's Hatsume Mei!]"

The signal to start blared, and Iida immediately launched into action, his engines roaring to life as he sprinted towards Hatsume with impressive speed. "Prepare yourself, Hatsume-san! I will not hold back!"

Hatsume, however, seemed completely unfazed by Iida's aggressive approach. She activated her microphone, her voice cheerful and informative as she addressed the crowd. "Hello, everyone! Check this out—these leg braces I designed for Iida-kun here improve his mobility by 25%! Watch how he moves!"

Iida, taken aback by her casual demeanor, stumbled slightly but quickly regained his composure. He pressed forward, determined to close the distance between them. "What are you—?"

Before he could finish, Hatsume's backpack whirred to life, hydraulic attachments propelling her out of his reach with a smooth, mechanical efficiency.

"[Whoa! Did you see that, Eraser!? Hatsume's got some tricks up her sleeves!]"

As Iida attempted to adapt, Hatsume's voice continued, her excitement infectious as she demonstrated her gadgets. "And that's not all! These hydraulic attachments allow me to maneuver with ease! Oh, and let's not forget the Auto Balancers—watch how they keep Iida-kun from falling!"

Iida tried to use her distraction to his advantage, but Hatsume's backpack sensors detected his approach, activating the hydraulic attachments once more to evade him. He stumbled over the devices, but the Auto Balancers kicked in, preventing him from falling and redirecting him back towards her.

"[Looks like Hatsume's turned this match into a full-on gadget showcase!]"

"[This isn't a commercial, Hatsume-san,]" Aizawa grumbled, a complete 180 from his co-host's attitude.

Frustration etched across Iida's face as he charged again, demanding a fair fight. "Hatsume-san! Stop using your gadgets as distractions and fight me properly!" 

Hatsume, her enthusiasm undeterred, evaded him once more, using her Electromagnetic Soles to glide smoothly across the stage. "But I am fighting! I'm showcasing my inventions! Look at these Electromagnetic Soles—they allow me to evade with precision!"

Iida's patience was wearing thin as he made another attempt to close the gap, but Hatsume was ready. She pulled out a Capture Gun, firing a net that ensnared Iida, immobilizing him.

"[Iida's caught in a net! What a turn of events!]"

Hatsume turned her attention to the support companies in the crowd, introducing herself with a confident smile. "I'm Hatsume Mei, and I hope you're impressed with my babies! There's more where these came from!"

For the next ten minutes, Hatsume continued to demonstrate her gadgets, much to the chagrin of Iida, who struggled futilely against the net. The crowd, initially baffled, soon found themselves entertained by her relentless enthusiasm.

Eventually, Hatsume walked out of the ring, her objective clearly met.

Midnight's whip cracked in the air, bringing the match to a close. "Hatsume Mei has stepped out of bounds! Iida Tenya is the winner!"

The audience's applause was a mix of confusion and amusement. Iida, despite his victory, looked thoroughly exasperated. "Hatsume-san! You used me as a prop!"

"I'm sorry, Iida-kun! But it worked, didn't it?" Hatsume giggled with a shrug of her shoulders.

Iida's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "I hate you."

Hatsume's apology, while technically present, lacked any real remorse, her attention already shifting to her next invention. "Oh~ I can totally create an 'I-hate-you-inator'! It'll track and detect levels of dislike/hatred surrounding the chosen subject..." As you watched Hatsume leave the ring, her nonchalant acceptance of her own defeat and eagerness to advertise her gadgets leaving the crowd in a mix of awe and confusion, you knew your turn was coming up.

You brushed off your uniform as you stood, smoothing out any wrinkles as you prepared yourself mentally.

Your classmates were abuzz with excitement, their voices blending into a harmonious cheer of encouragement.

"Akuma-san, knock 'em dead!"

"Yeah! You got this!"

"Show them 1-B's no second choice!"

Kendo's eyes sparkled with pride, and she gave you a thumbs-up. Tsuburaba and Shiozaki exchanged nods of support. Monoma, always the dramatic one, quickly grasped one of your hands just before you walked away.

"You got this, President!" he said, his voice filled with earnest admiration and a touch of nervous energy. His grip was firm but comforting, a tangible reminder of your classmates' support.

You hummed softly, your lips twitching in disgust at his bold actions. "Thank you, Monoma-kun," you replied, bowing your head in acknowledgment.

The walk to the arena felt like stepping into a different world. The stadium lights bore down on you, their brightness creating stark contrasts and sharp shadows on the ground. The camera flashes were relentless, capturing every moment, every expression, adding to the almost surreal atmosphere. The roar of the crowd was a constant backdrop, a symphony of cheers and excitement that filled the air with palpable energy.

Stepping into the battle ring, you felt the coolness of the arena floor beneath your feet. The space seemed to expand around you, the vastness of the stadium a stark reminder of the scale of the event.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself amidst the sensory overload. The anticipation was electric, charging the air with a tangible tension as the crowd awaited the start of the match.

Across from you, Mina bounced on her feet, her eyes alight with excitement. Her pink skin glistened under the stadium lights, and her smile was infectious. She seemed more like a cheerleader than a combatant, her enthusiasm almost childlike in its intensity.

"I can't wait to see your fighting style, Akuma-san!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with eagerness. "Is it like hand-to-hand combat? Or do you have some cool surprise moves up your sleeve? I'm so excited! I trained with my classmates during the Battle Trial, so I know some of their weaknesses, but I have no idea what to expect from you!"

Her questions came in a rapid stream, each one layered with genuine curiosity and a dash of anticipation. You could see the light in her eyes, a sparkle that made her excitement almost contagious.

Present Mic's voice boomed overhead, adding a humorous commentary to the situation. "[Wow, she's not taking this seriously at all!]"

"[Ashido admittedly does have a major issue with her attention span,]" Aizawa sighed.

The contrast between her playful energy and the serious tone of the match was almost comical.

Without a word, you began to walk towards her, your steps measured and deliberate. Mina's eyes widened as she watched you approach, her questions spilling out even faster. "Oh my gods, what are you going to do? Is this some secret technique? Are you going to—"

You reached out, gently but firmly placing your hands on her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of surprise.

With a steady, unyielding push, you guided her backwards. Each step you took brought her closer to the edge of the ring, her surprise morphing into confusion and then realization.

Quickly, Mina managed to drop and roll away from your push, her reflexes sharp despite the playful demeanor she had displayed moments before. Springing to her feet, she grinned, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Whoops! Almost let you get me!"

Her eyes gleamed with a newfound intensity, the playful spark replaced by a keen focus. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and Mina's entire demeanor shifted from bubbly excitement to concentrated determination.

With a swift, fluid motion, she squatted down and secreted acid from her feet. The corrosive substance sizzled as it hit the ground, and she used it to propel herself forward, sliding across the stage with surprising speed. Her movement was almost serpentine, a blend of agility and precision that cut through the air with grace.

For a moment, you considered dodging her attack, calculating the trajectory and speed at which she was approaching. But then, in a split-second decision, you chose not to evade. You let her come closer, her approach like a tidal wave of energy and intent.

As Mina reached you, you executed a half-hearted roundhouse kick, your movements precise yet deliberately leaving yourself open. To anyone else, it would have looked like a full attempt to strike, but you knew better. It was a calculated risk, a feint meant to draw her in.

Mina, her instincts sharp, ducked just in time, her eyes widening as she saw the opening. She lunged forward, aiming a strong uppercut at your side. Her fist brushed past your face, the force of the strike just grazing your skin.

You turned with the motion, making her miss entirely, and quickly grasped both of her arms in a firm hold. The action was fluid, almost too smooth, and before she could react, you had effectively locked her in place. Your grip was steady but not overly harsh, a testament to your control over the situation.

Mina blinked, her concentration breaking for a brief moment. Her eyes sparkled with genuine admiration as she squealed, "No way, that was so cool! How did you dodge that!? I spent weeks perfecting this move..." Her words tumbled out in a rapid stream, her excitement and curiosity spilling over. She seemed almost oblivious to her current predicament, more fascinated by the mechanics of the fight than by the fact that she was restrained.

You sighed inwardly, recognizing that this conversation would likely continue unless you intervened. You glanced over her shoulder, assessing your position in the ring. To your advantage, you noticed that you were right on the edge of the platform. The realization sparked a quick plan in your mind.

Taking advantage of her distraction, you pushed her gently but firmly over the edge. Mina, still caught up in her enthusiastic rambling, barely registered the movement until it was too late. She stumbled backward, her eyes widening in surprise as she tumbled off the platform.

Midnight's whip cracked through the air, the sound sharp and commanding. "Ashido Mina is out of bounds! Akuma Y/N is the winner!"

The crowd erupted in a mixture of laughter and applause, the unexpected simplicity of your victory catching them off guard once again. Present Mic's voice echoed overhead, his tone a blend of amusement and commentary. "[And with Ashido going down embarrassingly easy, that's one win for Akuma!]"

You stood at the edge of the ring, watching as Mina picked herself up, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. Her enthusiasm was undiminished, and she waved cheerfully at you. "Good job, Akuma-san! That was really clever!"

You nodded politely, acknowledging her words with a small smile. The lights of the arena glinted off the metal rails, and the cheers of the crowd formed a backdrop of noise and excitement. The thrill of the fight, coupled with the simplicity of your victory, left a sense of satisfaction bubbling within you.

As you walked back towards the waiting area, you could feel the energy of the stadium humming around you, a tangible reminder of the intensity and spectacle of the U.A. Sports Festival.

Instead of heading directly to the stands, you decided to make a detour. A thought had been simmering in the back of your mind, urging you to check in on someone else preparing for his battle. Turning down a quieter corridor, you made your way towards Bakugo's waiting room. The muffled sounds of the ongoing fight between Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu filtered through the walls, a reminder of the relentless pace of the tournament.

You reached the door, noticing a small TV mounted on the wall inside, showcasing the current fight. Without hesitation, you pushed it open slightly, causing the door to creak. Bakugo's head snapped up, a snarl already forming on his lips. "I said I didn't want anyone bothering me—" His sentence abruptly cut off as he saw it was you standing there.

A brow arched, you let a smile tug at your lips. "Oh? Should I return later?"

For a moment, Bakugo's expression softened, and he quickly stood, a mix of surprise and something else flickering across his features. "Y/N," he said softly, your name a contrast to his usual gruff tone.

You stepped inside, letting the door close behind you. "I was just stopping by to see how you were faring so far," you said, your gaze steady on his.

Bakugo's jaw tightened, and he was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were gathering his thoughts. "I'm gonna win," he finally said, his voice low but resolute. "But I want you to advance to the final round."

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I wanna fight you," he blurted out, the words hanging in the air between you. The proclamation seemed to take both of you by surprise, and your brows raised in unison.

"Who knew you had it out for me," you replied, your tone light but your eyes searching his face for deeper meaning.

Bakugo rolled his eyes, a grunt of frustration escaping him. "It's not that," he muttered, his gaze darting away. "It's just..."

You leaned forward slightly, prompting him. "Just what?"

For a moment, Bakugo's eyes met yours, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within them. His mind raced, a thousand thoughts tumbling over each other. Internally, he struggled with the desire to prove his strength to you, to show that he could be someone you could rely on, someone strong enough to protect you. But the words tangled in his throat, refusing to form.

Instead, he scoffed, the sound more of a deflection than an answer. "Just wanna see how strong you really are," he grumbled, the excuse hanging weakly between you.

Before you could respond, the small TV in the upper corner caught your attention. Present Mic's voice boomed from the screen, announcing the end of the current match. "[Tokoyami Fumikage takes the win! Up next, it's the battle of steel vs. stone: Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu versus Kirishima Eijiro! Stay tuned, folks!]"

The fight on the screen transitioned to show Tetsutetsu and Kirishima entering the arena, their faces set with determination.

Realizing the conversation had run its course, you turned towards the door. "Good luck with your match," you said over your shoulder.

Bakugo scoffed again, his bravado slipping back into place like a well-worn mask. "Not worried about Round-Face," he muttered, his tone dismissive.

You paused at the doorway, casting a glance back at him. "You should be," you said, your voice carrying a quiet warning. With that, you slipped out, the door clicking softly shut behind you.

As you left Bakugo's room, the air seemed to crackle with the anticipation of the upcoming battles. The faint sounds of the stadium crowd echoed through the hallways, a constant reminder of the spectacle unfolding just outside. Your steps were steady as you made your way back to your class section, a mixture of determination and contemplation playing across your mind.

You were only a few steps away from the arena entrance when a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. "Akuma-san," Todoroki called out, his tone calm yet insistent. You turned to find him standing a short distance away, his expression serious.

"Yes?" you replied, arching an eyebrow. His demeanor was different, more introspective than usual.

"Could we speak for a moment?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of objection.

Intrigued, you nodded and followed him as he led you to a large glass window that overlooked a portion of the stadium-lobby. Below, hundreds of citizens milled about, buying merchandise and food, their faces lit up with excitement.

Yet you stared down at the crowd, a dark cloud of disdain crept into your thoughts. They looked like tiny, insignificant ants. 

The stark difference between these humans and those you encountered in your previous life struck you with a jarring clarity. In that world, power and control were everything. Manipulations, grandiose battles, and the constant struggle for dominance defined your existence. Every interaction held weight, every move was a calculated step in a larger game. Here, in contrast, the crowd's self-righteousness and superficial concerns disgusted you.

They believed in their own moral superiority, convinced that their small acts of kindness or their adherence to social norms made them good, just, worthy. They viewed themselves as heroes in their own right, clinging to a superficial sense of morality and justice. Yet, in their simplicity, they fail to see how their so-called righteousness are nothing more than a fragile façade, easily shattered by the cold, hard truths of power and influence.

Your musings were interrupted by Todoroki's voice, soft yet clear. "Akuma-san, I like to think of myself as an intelligent person," he began, his gaze fixed on the crowd below. "But it seems that everything becomes unintelligible when it comes to you."

You turned your head, curiosity piqued. "Pardon?" you asked, unsure of where he was leading.

Todoroki took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a turmoil of emotions. "I've been thinking about what I told Midoriya earlier," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of bitterness and resignation. "About my past, about my father... the hero... Endeavor. It's something I feel you should know too."

He paused, gathering his thoughts, before continuing. "My father... he's not just unpleasant. He's driven by a relentless obsession to surpass All Might and  views me as nothing but a tool to achieve that goal. My siblings—they're nothing but failures to him because they don't measure up to his standards. It's all been about grooming me to achieve what he couldn't."

Todoroki's eyes darkened as he continued, his hand unconsciously touching the scar on his left eye. "And my mother? She suffered greatly under his ambitions. The pressure, the constant demands and abuse—she couldn't handle it...and it broke her. I look like him, you see. Every time she saw the left side of my face—the fire I inherited from him—it reminded her of him...of everything she hated. One day, she snapped. She threw boiling water at me...said it was unsightly. That's how I got this scar."

He paused, the raw emotion in his voice a stark contrast to the stoic façade he usually maintained. "My father had her institutionalized. To him, she was just another obstacle. I grew up hating him, despising the fire side of my Quirk because it was his. I've spent my entire life trying to prove that I could be a hero without becoming him."

As Todoroki finished his story, you felt a hollow emptiness where empathy should have been. His words, dripping with a mix of self-pity and bitterness, left you cold. The tale of his troubled upbringing, designed perhaps to elicit sympathy, only reinforced your disdain for him. Todoroki, with his tragic backstory and internal turmoil, seemed to you one of the most pathetic individuals you had ever encountered.

A soft hum escaped your lips, and a sardonic smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You turned to face him, your eyes gleaming with a harsh light. "For someone so intelligent," you began, your tone laced with mockery, "you have an awfully bad habit of oversharing personal and horrifyingly useful information one would think to keep private. It's a wonder you've managed to maintain such a mysterious persona." You could almost hear the echo of your peers' admiration for him, their awe and reverence for the troubled hero. If only they knew the full extent of his pitiful reality.

Todoroki's eyes widened slightly at your words, a flicker of confusion mingling with the anger already etched on his face. 

Your lips dropped from the semblance of a smile into a disgusted snarl. "Although you had such an unsavory upbringing, Midoriya was right about one thing," you continued, your voice sharp and unyielding. "It's an absolutely pitiful sight to see you allowing your father to win and have power over something that's yours. Your life, your choices—they belong to you. Yet here you are, shackled by his shadow, letting him dictate who you become."

Todoroki's gaze faltered, his expression a mix of shame and defensiveness, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His anger simmered just beneath the surface, his composure cracking under the weight of your unrelenting critique. His anger, however, was not just from the truth of your words but from the familiarity of their tone.

You, with your overbearing harshness and cutting remarks, reminded him too much of his father—Endeavor's relentless drive, his unyielding standards, and his crushing expectations. But you weren't done yet.

You took a step closer, your presence towering over him. "Of course," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "you can always go on this woe-is-me journey of limiting yourself. Continue rejecting your fire, the very power that makes you whole, just to spite your father. It's quite amusing, really—watching you cripple yourself for the sake of some misguided vendetta."

Todoroki's anger flared, his eyes narrowing as he tried to hold back a retort. His frustration was palpable, mingling with the pain your words inflicted. Yet he remained silent, the truth of your accusations sinking in despite his instinctive resistance. He despised the harshness of your approach, the way you mirrored his father's brutal honesty, but he couldn't entirely dismiss the validity of your perspective.

You leaned in, your eyes locking onto his, forcing him to confront the harsh truth of your words. "Though, what's truly even more pathetic," you continued, your voice lowering to a dangerous whisper, "is how you wear this victimhood like a badge of honor. You've let him win every time you hold back, every time you refuse to use your full potential. And for what? Some semblance of moral high ground? You're a fool, Todoroki. A pitiful fool clinging to a righteous delusion."

Todoroki's face contorted further, his internal conflict evident in the tightening of his jaw and the hardening of his gaze. Before he could gather his thoughts or mount a defense, Present Mic's voice boomed through the stadium, breaking the tension. "[And we have a draw! The battle between Tetsutetsu and Kirishima ends in a tie! Up next, it's Bakugo Katsuki versus Uraraka Ochaco! Get ready for a showdown!]"

The announcement echoed around you, the festival's energy seeping back into the moment. You stepped back, a charming grin spreading across your face. "Well, that's my cue," you said, your tone suddenly light, "Must be off to support. Do try to think about what I said, Todoroki-kun. Good luck, next round." As you made your way back to your class's section, you felt a surge of anticipation for the upcoming fight between Bakugo and Uraraka.

A/N: wheewww! 7.5k DONE! anyways, sorry for the little wait, these doubles at work been kicking my ass so i decided to update while i have time on my day off 😩. anywhooo, hope you all enjoyed this chapter, don't judge me too bad for the horrible action /fightring portion, i tired my best lolololo. the next three rounds will all be in 1 chappie, so it can be  long like this one. see you all next update. ❤️❤️

[visualtaehyun]

Back on my bullshit! Silly vampire romcom edition 🧛‍♂️🩸

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

The title

Pun พัน /phan/ means 'thousand' so the English title is a fucking pun on the character names/ship name which I only realized because of MDL: 1000 Years Old -> 1000YO -> PunYo (พันโย)

And the Thai title อายุมั่นขวัญยืน /aa yoo man khwan yeuun/ means 'long life'!

Master

In the intro, every character and every single other credited person or group (yes, the cat too lol) is presented as ท่าน (...) /taan .../ - probably because that's how Pun addresses Yo:

กลิ่นท่านหอมเหลือเกิน /glin taan haawm leuua geern/ = Your scent is too good.

Subbing ท่าน /taan/ as Master that one time is a nice choice because it can be both a pronoun and a title and it's very formal, polite and respectful. It's mostly used for someone of high authority or prestige or when publicly addressing an audience (like- Ladies and Gentlemen) or when speaking to an important customer, for example. So I'm a bit surprised that Yo hasn't commented at all on Pun's pronoun choice lmao

Whomst

She's just there?? Not talking??? Like all the time! My headcanon right now is that she's Pak's girlfriend, based entirely on how she keeps sitting next to her and that she fed her fruit in the car.

Whomst 2: Electric Boogaloo

I dub thee Mystery Lady, you funky colorful little gumball you

The landlady

Almost bulldozes right into Yo, clearly pushes him into the haunted apartment and funniest of all (to me at least lol)

เย็ดแม่มัน /yet maae man/ = "Fuck its mother" or "Motherfucker, it-"

The one time a swear is faithfully subbed and also the only time I've ever heard anyone swear to this extent in a Thai show 😂 Caught me so off-guard that I had to pause for air djdhsjds

[ilguna]

☼ trick question pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick admitted you were his celebrity crush in his last interview, this year, he has something to reveal.

warnings; swearing

wc; 1.9k

part two

–

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have the up and coming model from California joining us today!” Caesar Flickerman shouts with a wide grin on his face, hand extended out in the direction of Finnick, “Finnick Odair!”

Finnick takes the steps one at a time, being careful as to not let his dress shoes get caught on the carpet. He’s watched Caesar’s show plenty of times before, and he’s seen plenty of other people make the mistake of dragging their feet. All it takes is the top of the brand new shoe and you’ll trip.

Finnick smiles brightly, waving at the live audience. There’s only one stray whistle that comes from an audience member in the back. From what he remembers from the last time he was on the show, there shouldn’t be any loud noises in order to prevent the sensitive microphones from blowing. The fan should be let off easily.

“Welcome back!” Caesar says, Finnick extends his hand.

“It’s great to be back, Caesar.” They shake hands, and then Finnick settles on the couch, “I thought that the last time I was here would be the only time.”

“Why’s that?”

Finnick makes a face, “I didn’t think I’d be popular enough.”

“Well, congratulations on being popular.” He laughs, sitting in his chair, crossing a leg, “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Oh great.” Finnick muses, “We should get started then.”

“Yes, I wanna ask you about your latest experience with fashion. You’ve been doing a lot of shows recently, especially with the fashion designer Cinna.” Caesar becomes more serious, “What’s it like working with him?”

Finnick nods, “Cinna’s brilliant, really. I’m lucky to wear more of his tame ideas, rather than the bright and shiny ones.”

“Yes, because we all know how Cashmere and Gloss feel about them!” He laughs, “I do have a question, since you work very closely with other models. How is the young Katniss Everdeen? Is she adjusting well? I heard that the flammable piece was almost a break for her.”

“I can’t say, exactly. I wasn’t present for the conversation between her and Cinna. I did hear from their contract manager that she was looking into other stylists if they couldn’t accommodate her.” Finnick tilts his head, “Since she is—as you said—young, she’s very careful about how she approaches revealing her body.”

“That’s right, those contracts can be very demanding.” Caesar agrees, “I remember you telling me that it almost cost you your job to ask for different clothes.”

“I’m very lucky that I have wonderful friends that would take the fall for me like that, even if the outfits aren’t designed for their body types.” Finnick nods, “As unfortunate as it is for the stylists to have their clothes stretched, it’s not worth a model's discomfort. I did explicitly say that I wasn’t comfortable exposing my body.”

Caesar nods, “Would you have worn that second flame piece if Cinna had asked you?”

Finnick lets out a laugh, “Well, Peeta and I are two different sizes. It surely would’ve been uncomfortable to wear. However, if he had told me that he couldn’t do it, I would’ve tried to make it work.”

“Peeta and Katniss are very lucky to know you.”

“I’m lucky to know them.”

Caesar tilts his head, “While we’re on the topic, I heard that you and Johanna Mason are working on your own line.”

Finnick tries to hide his smile. He’s been asked about it in every interview under the sun lately. They don’t know what the line is, and neither him nor Johanna are planning to release it to the public just yet. They’re working on a beauty line that’ll cover most of the bases. Finnick wants to cover skincare, and Johanna wants natural dyes for hair so it’s less damaging, since she changes her hair color often.

“We’re working on something, yes.”

Caesar raises his eyebrows, “Are you open to discussing any detail about it?”

“It won’t surprise the public when it does come out. That’s all I’ll be saying as of right now. Johanna likes to keep her projects secret, and I’m not trying to get on her bad side.” Finnick laughs, Caesar joins in.

“That’s fair, okay.” There’s a mischievous smile that crosses Caesar’s face, “Do you remember the last time you were here and I asked you about your celebrity crush?”

Finnick lets out an audible sigh, he can feel the heat returning to his face. He doesn’t know how Caesar has such a way with words, but he managed to get Finnick to admit who he likes in front of a live audience. Which then proceeded to trend on Twitter, and then further get the attention of the girl that he’s liked for a while now.

“Don’t remind me.”

“I will be, actually.” Caesar laughs, “Remind me, who is it?”

“Do we have to do this, Caesar?” Finnick chuckles, but complys, “Her name is (Y/n) (L/n).”

“And what is she known for?”

It’s a good thing that Finnick knows where he’s going with this, “For those of you at home and in the audience that don’t know who (Y/n) is, she’s an actress. Show them what she looks like, Caesar.”

He laughs, and the screen behind him changes to be a picture of you from the red carpet a month ago for a premiere. There’s a pretty smile on your face and your body is halfway turned to give them the illusion that you were going to walk away, but it was just a pose that most do.

Caesar clears his throat, “Everyone, (Y/n) plays a number of characters across tv shows and movies alike. She has a liking for the darker themes, and she leans towards apocalyptic and dystopian movies the most, and shows that have repeating criminal activity that centers around the character.”

Finnick nods, rubbing his neck, “She normally plays the gruesome characters and she does it beautifully, alright?”

There’s a few laughs, Caesar raises his eyebrows, “What about her do you like, Finnick? Be more specific.”

Finnick rolls his eyes, “I said that she captivates me every time she’s on screen. She’s a wonderful actress and I find myself being pulled in with the story.”

“But only for her, right?” Caesar teases, “Not for someone as handsome as Beetee Latier?”

“I’m sure Beetee is also an amazing actor, but we’re talking about (Y/n).”

“That we are. I saw a number of tweets of hers from the last time you were here.” Caesar laughs, as the screen behind him changes to be the screenshots they took of the interaction.

Finnick shakes his head, “Don’t do this.”

“We’re doing this. Ladies and gentlemen, it seems to me that (Y/n) had a lot to say.” Caesar flicks through the screenshots. It’s mostly of you replying to other people talking about the interview that took place last year. The slideshow quickens, “A lot. But from what my crew gathered, she was very flattered.”

“Very. What can I say? I’m a flattering man.” Finnick smiles.

“So flattering that you somehow managed to get her phone number.” Caesar raises his eyebrows, “Can I tell them?”

Finnick motions, “Well you’ve basically told them already.”

Caesar turns suddenly, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Finnick and (Y/n) became official. I want everyone to give a big welcome to (Y/n)!”

You peek your head out from behind the curtain with a scrunched nose. You follow Finnick’s directions from earlier, warning you about tripping on the carpet, especially in these heels. You’re sure to lift your feet and walk carefully. Caesar and Finnick are now on their feet.

You hug Caesar slightly, give a wave to the audience, and then turn to Finnick. He knows that he can’t touch your face, he’s got in the bad habit of doing it lately, and it’s been hard to break him out of it. You wish it wasn’t that easy to ruin your makeup, but there’s not much you can do.

You press a kiss to Finnick’s lips, and pull away giggling when the audience cheers louder. Finnick sits, and watches you carefully as you tuck the dress under you, turning your legs to the side so that your knees almost touch Finnick’s legs. The worst part about wearing a dress is sitting down.

Finnick takes your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“(Y/n), I believe this is the first time we’re meeting.” Caesar says.

“With the exception of backstage, I’d say so too.” You laugh, they do too.

“Tell me, what was it like meeting Finnick for the first time in person?”

You tilt your head, “He’s a gentleman through and through. I could’ve asked for the world on that first date and it was clear to me that he would’ve found a way to do it.”

“And you didn’t ask for the world?”

“I decided to save that for the second date.”

“What was it like hearing that Finnick had a crush on you?”

You make a face, “Weird, if I’m honest. He’s a celebrity in the modeling world. I’m a celebrity in the acting world. It’s almost as if we shouldn’t collide, and yet we’re still here. You can see weird couples all across the Capitol, it’s really something else.”

“That’s very true.” Caesar agrees, “Someone told me that you were trying to get Finnick into acting.”

“Yes, I am.” You give a look to Finnick. He’s already shaking his head, “He thinks I’m lying when I say that he has potential. I think he could be phenomenal outside of modeling if he wanted to. If he decided that he didn’t like acting, modeling will still be there for him.”

“You think that Cinna would allow him to come back?” Caesar asks curiously.

“I’ve talked to Cinna on a couple of occasions. He’s a very understanding man, and he would do a lot for his models, including letting them come back from a break. For a lot of other companies, it’s a one-and-done sort of deal. Finnick’s fortunate that he has Cinna.”

“What do you think about acting, Finnick?”

“The idea’s growing on me, I’ll admit.” Finnick smiles, “I don’t think I’ll feel comfortable doing it if (Y/n) isn’t beside me to help, but it’s hard getting a job beside her because they’re looking for a certain level of expertise.”

“And that’s true, but a lot of actors and actresses get weird roles all the time. I’m a good example of that. I was told when I first joined the industry that I’d never get the gory roles, and now those are all I get.”

“Out of spite, I presume?”

“Partially.” You laugh, “But also because I set my mind to it. That’s why I believe Finnick can do it too.”

Finnick softly smiles at you, “I love your confidence in me, but I’m not feeling the same way.”

You shake your head at Finnick.

“Well, I think it’s about time we took a break.” Caesar says, you and Finnick nod. Caesar turns to face the camera, “When we come back, we’ll discuss (Y/n)’s brief experience with modeling and why she chose not to go on. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

[tbaluver]

bridgerton au! obanai iguro x reader

warning: none

a/n: this might be ooc and i fear i wrote too much detail. the context is still the same if you didn't read the sanemi one and if you did you can skip the context! i might redo the sanemi one bc i just found out there was no word block i was just being a dummy. i hope you all enjoy and req are open!

wc: 2k

context:

The great hall of Ubuyashiki Palace shimmered with a soft glow of crystal chandeliers, casting intricate patterns of light upon the polished marble floors. It was a significant evening, as the elites gathered for the anual presentation to Her Majesty, Queen Amane. Among the debutantes awaiting their turn, you stood as your heart aflutter with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

You wore a gown with your favorite color in silk, with delicate laces and pearls. Your mother stands beside you with a mix of nervousness as this was your debut into society.

As the strains of the orchestra fills the air with a gentle melody, a hush fell over the assembled guest as the doors at the far end of the hall swung open. Each debutant was announced by name as she stepped forwards to curtsy before Queen Amane, each to all pounding with the weight of expectation and nervousness. Queen Amane, seated upon her throne watched as the debutantes approached. Her expression was composed but those who knew her well can detect a hint of uninterested as each debutant entered.

At last, it was your turn. With a graceful sweep of your skirt, you approached where Queen Amane sat. Your breath caught in your throat as you curtsied deeply, fixed upon the monarch, "Your Majesty," Your mother spoke, "may I present my daughter, (Y/N)"

Queen Amane regards you with a keen gaze, her expression unreadable. "Rise, Miss (Y/L/N)," the Queen's voice was soft yet carried such authority that echoed through the room.

You obey, lifting your eyes to meet the Queen. "And how do you find the season, Miss (Y/L/N)?"

As you gathered your composure, your voice steady despite the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach. "Your Majesty, I am humbled by the warmth and kindness I have encountered. The country has welcomed me with open arms and I eager to contribute to its traditions."

Queen Amane studies you for a moment longer, her expression softening. "You carry yourself with grace, Miss (Y/L/N). May your journey through society be as rewarding as it is enlightening."

With that, Queen Amane signals the end of their audience. You curtesy once more before going back to join your parents, your heart jumped with joy by Queen Amane acknowledgment and the promise of what lies ahead.

-

In society, as invitations poured in and gossiped swirled around, you find yourself at the center of attention.

From the moment you descended on the grand staircase of the Duke's ball, you became the focus of every eligible bachelor's gaze. However you remain blissfully unaware of your effect on the ton. With each delicate step, you sought not to conquer society but rather to savor the fleeting moments of freedom and excitement that this season has promised. You were groomed and taught for this moment ever since you learned how to walk. Your mother's careful guidance has shaped you into elegance and grace.

As you mingled with the crowd, your eyes danced with curiosity, eager to explore the world beyond the pages of your beloved novels. You've held a couple conversations with lords and ladies as if you captivated them. There was just authenticity in your words and how you spoke and how your laughter tinkled like crystal, possibly drawing a bright star in the evening sky that made you feel rare apart from the other debutantes.

Sure, there were a couple gentlemen that caught your eye but your heart remains untouched until you met him.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

obanai iguro:

✦ He did not attend the Ubuyashiki Palace either. He did however attend the ball but for strictly business purposes only. He hated when a new season started and tried to avoid them as possible. He skillfully avoided any eager debutantes that tried to capture his attention. Key word, tried, as some were afraid of approaching him due to the snake, Kaburamaru, wrapped around his shoulder.

✦ That was until he captured his eyes on you. Many heads have turned and murmurs of the ballroom received your attention as you descended down the ballroom stairs. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he did think you were quite beautiful. From how you walk and how you flowed conversation to conversation with people so easily. It was no wonder you were talk of the ton and considered diamond of the season.

✦ He internally cursed himself for getting distracted as he watched you across the ballroom. He continued his business conversation with the Lords associated with him.

✦ Although it may have looked easy to whoever gazes upon you as you talked to new bachelors, it was actually quite difficult. You were taught what to say, how to laugh, how to be graceful but all you wanted was true love. Yet it felt like each bachelor you met has given you no connection whatsoever and your mother has taken notice of that.

✦ Your mother clears her throat, with grace and took a step forward, drawing the attention of the nearby group of Lords that included Obanai, engaged in conversation. "Gentlemen," She says with a warm, inviting smile, "if I may have a moment of your attention."

✦ Obanai and the Lord beside him turned their gaze towards your mother, their expression shifting to one of curiosity and respect. "It is my great pleasure to introduce you to my daughter." The gentlemen stepped forward with a courteous nod, "Ah Miss (Y/L/N), a young lady of grace and intelligence, who has recently made her debut into Society." The Lord says, making your cheeks flush with a gentle rose hue and your curtsy with practiced elegance. "It is an honor to meet you, my Lords," You say with a delicate blend of shyness and earnestness. "I trust you are finding the evening to your liking Miss (Y/L/N)?" Obanai spoke up, his voice softer and gentler surprising the Lord. Your eyes seem to brighten in his eyes, "Thank you, my Lord. The evening is indeed enchanting."

✦ Your mother observes the exchange of look with satisfaction, taking the opportunity in the conversation, "If you must know, we are hosting a small social gathering tomorrow at our estate." Your mother invites the Lords but Obanai's gaze doesn't seem to leave you. You certainly made it an enchanting night.

✦ Your mother took a final look around, ensuring every detail was in place of your family's estate. The guest would soon arrive, and with them, the opportunities for you to make a favorable impressions. In moments, the estate would be alive with laughter, conversation, and a faint sound of orchestra music. However you were missing in the event. You sat there at the vanity of your mirror looking at your mirror in deep thought of what happened last night.

✦ One of your encounters last night with a potential bachelor was your least favorite.

After your mother has given you the courage to talk again with other bachelors, you decided to go mingle on your own once again. "Ah, Lady (Y/L/N)," he says, his tone dripping with condescension as he approached you. "Quite the choice of gown you wear! It seems it is the only color that complements your complexion so well." You were taken aback by his tone, yet you remain your composure. "Thank you my Lord. I find this color quite pleasant. It seems I am still learning how to achieve the approval of such a discerning critic" His eyes seem to glean with a mixture of amusement and continues. "Of course, my dear lady. One must ponder whether a lady's merits are truly sufficient for the discerning eyes of the ton, or more importantly, for those men such as myself." Your smile falters slightly, "You consider yourself such a discerning man, my Lord?" He replies smoothly, "Why, of course," His gaze sweeps over you with a hint of sarcasm, "It would be quite tragic if you were to only rely on your appearance. To say, your charm is quite a bore so it might be such a struggle to find suitable match. You are not serious to think these bachelors must want you other than pity right? You're lucky I am here to even consider myself a bachelor for you."

✦ Your mind keeps replaying that conversation from last night. An unsettling reminder of harsh truth had absorbed your mind completely. Your mother did not prepare you for this. As you contemplated, you had realized that dreams of love and marriage that you had so nurtured in your head seemed to dissolve into a harsh light of reality.

✦ As you made your way to the door, your movements remained purposeful and poised as a new plan began to crystallize in your mind. A plan that would redefine your path and your future. Maybe the man was right. You plan to no longer should rely on your beauty or charms but rather please any bachelors to only their favor.

✦ "Hello, I take it your enjoying the evening?" You smile widely. As you talked with the two Lords in the group, Obanai watches you carefully. You seemed different from last night. Your eyes did not shine as bright as they did last night and the way you gripped your fan seemed to be hiding some truth. The way how you talked to the Lords were only for their amusement. How typical. It was like this every season with any debutant. They acted artificial and were only after a title and wealth but he did not expect this from you. His attention was brought back into reality as you excused yourself, still continuing to watch you.

✦ You wandered off into the garden, taking a deep breath. "May I have a moment of your time?" The sudden voice startles you, only to find the yellow and turquoise eyed man. "Of course Lord Iguro. What is the matter?"

✦ "Forgive my intrusion my lady, but I could not help but notice you seem unwell." You hesitated as you avoid his gaze, "It is nothing that should concern you, Lord Iguro. I merely needed a moment away from the crowd." His expression seemed to soften with concern. "It is clear that something more than the crowd weighs on you. I have observed you throughout the evening and there is a shift in your demeanor that does not go unnoticed."

✦ Your composure falters and you sigh deeply, "I am merely a lady in search of a suitable match. The season has just been overwhelming so far."

✦ "You need not hurry nor merely entertain suitors just for their liking. You are deserving of a suitor who is genuine towards you as to you are with him. Pardon me my lady." He says excusing himself and leaving.

✦ You pondered his words throughout the entire night, the truth resonating deeply within you. With newfound resolve, you sprang from your bed and composed a letter to him, which you planned to dispatch later in the day. His surprise upon receiving your correspondence was palpable, for he swiftly penned a response, eager to continue talking to you more. Thus began a series of heartfelt letters exchanged between you both and spending time outside of your estates, leading to a new connection you both cherished.

✦ Whenever he was gone for a business trip, he would return with thoughtful gifts and trinkets chosen with care, each one a reflection of your preference or things that reminded him of you.

✦ When he returned from his journey, he could not help but observe a shift in your demeanor again. Seated together in the serene garden of your estate, you appear unusually subdued, and you barely touched the food the servants brought out. When he found out this was due to another caller, he thought to himself that maybe he might kill the men that invaded your mind. But he brushed that idea off for another time as he was worried about you.

✦ He took your hand in his, holding it tenderly, "My lady if I may be so bold, I must tell you that you are the very epitome of beauty. The evening I first saw you, you looked more radiant than the stars themselves." Your cheeks flush with a delicate pink, avoiding his gaze. "But it is not your beauty that has captivated me," His eyes never leaving you, "It is your spirit, your kindness, and the way you have illuminated the darkest corners of my world." Your breath caught in your throat as your heart races, finally meeting his gaze. "If you would do me the honor, I would wish for nothing more than to continue discovering the depths of your heart."

✦ While he waited for your response, he thought to himself, what ring would you love.

[katiemay-025]

I Know You Well

~~~~~

~~~~~

Summary: The 3rd Quarter Quell twist has been revealed and after the initial shock wears off, you have a conversation with your lover and fellow victor where you both promise that no matter who gets reaped, there would be no volunteering. Johanna will make sure of that.

wc: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, use of y/n, violence, ptsd, swearing, Ifem!reader think that’s it.

An: I should probably make a banner for Johanna or something. Also I think I sent this head cannon to someone’s ask but I don’t remember whom I sent it to. :/

This probably would have been better as a blurb but oh well.

~~~~~

Johanna sat on the couch rolling her eyes and groaning at the sight of Katniss’ wedding gowns being presented to the audience. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table that you made and she had nothing on except a pair of fuzzy socks. “Ugh disgusting! What flock of white geese had to die for that dress?”

You chuckle at her words as you were cutting the bell pepper for dinner. “Do you mean swans, honey?”

“Absolutely not, she does not deserve swans.”

There were a total of 6 dresses to choose from and Cinna announced to the crowd that they could vote for which dress Katniss should wear. Johanna made another snide comment about making the Girl on Fire walk out in a suit of mud and call it a day. “They would definitely like that.”

“Katniss would not. I’m not too sure she’d be as comfortable as you being naked.”

Johanna cupped her own breast with a smirk. “At least I show myself off instead of being bought for it. What are they going to do? They can’t take it from me if I give it out for free.”

You tilted your head in acknowledgement of her words. It’s something you learned as a victor, watching others do the same. Finnick acted cocky as a defense mechanism. Enobaria sharpened her teeth to defend herself from the Capitol. Hell, you had done it, fiddling with your pocket saw out in the open. It was effective in scaring people away but it also gave you horrible flashbacks to your own game. What does that say about your view of the capital if you decide to willingly traumatize yourself again? Even so, after years of doing it, you’d only get flashes of the dark memory instead of a full blown panic attack. Exposure therapy at its finest.

Anyway, immediately after Cinna finishes his campaign for Katniss’ wedding dress, Snow took the podium on the raised balcony overlooking the city circle. “Why the fuck is he on our screens? As if voting for a wedding dress isn’t torturous enough.” Johanna groaned.

You put your knife down. The living room was a good 50 steps away from the kitchen counters and you placed your hands on the back of the couch watching intently. To you, the twist wouldn’t matter, you’d still have to mentor who ever the twist catered too.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Panem. This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games. When the charter of the Games was written, it dictated that every 25 years there would be a Quarter Quell… to make fresh for each new generation the memory of those killed in the rebellion against the Capitol. The Quarter Quell was reserved for the Games of special significance.”

Johanna sat up in her seat fiddling with the hilt of her axe. You noticed the slow movement of her thumb over the wooden handle before she took a breath.

“On the 25th anniversary, each district was made to vote on the tributes who should represent it. In the 50th anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, each district was required to send twice the tributes to the arena. And now on the 75th anniversary of the Rebellion, we honor our third quarter quell, as bestowed to us, by the signers of the Treaty of Treason.”

A small wooden box is carried onto the balcony by a boy dressed in white. You watch as President Snow opens the box and retrieves a yellow sealed envelope. “As a reminder that even the strongest cannot over power the Capitol, on this 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the pool of existing victors of each district.”

The room froze, you and Johanna not daring to break the silence. Your eyes widened and you forgot to breathe. Chills traveled down your spine. Johanna reacted first gripping her axe and swinging it at the television projector with a scream, smashing it to pieces.

Your heart plunged to the ground. You were going back. Tears welled in your eyes and a lump found its way to your throat. The walls closed in around you and before it could crush you, you rushed out of the house.

Your foot caught each other on the way down the steps and you caught yourself with your hands and knees. The bushes beckoned you to them and you crawled over before dispensing the bile caught in your throat.

The fall was so fast you didn’t notice the glassy rocks that cut your knees. Only after you crawled to the log storage did you notice them. Smears of blood oozed out of your wounds and sticky red liquid coated your fingers.

Your hand began to shake.

The First Kill was never something you could get over. Her name was Olive and there was a sponsor sent to you on the 5th day, she was nearby and tried to take the gift from you. She tackled you to the ground and after a few moments of tussling in the grass, you found your saw and lodged it deep into her neck. Her blood trickled down coating your fingers as you pulled on your weapon to slice her neck. She died choking on her own blood. Your hands stained red and no matter how much you tried to scrub it off, it always remained on your hands.

Even now, as you frantically scrubbed your hands in the shed sink, it wouldn’t go away. The harder you rubbed the redder your hands got. That was how friction worked but in your state of delusion, it all looked the same.

The cascade of water stopped. As you moved your hands to the faucet, gentle hands cradled yours. A small whimper escaped your lips. You were going back. You were in the pool of existing victors. But so was Johanna. Your head snapped up spotting the younger girl focused on your reddened hands.

“Johanna.”

She let out an unamused chuckle. “I fucking trashed the house.”

“I assumed so.” You whispered. “I rubbed off the skin on my hands.”

Johanna hummed as she traced her thumb over the injury. “I know.”

You raised your arms to her to hold her face. “I need you to promise me something. Do not volunteer for me.”

She met your eyes with her own fiery ones while tilting her head. “One of us has to go in. Like hell, I’m going to let it be you.”

“I can handle myself, that’s why I’m telling you not to volunteer.”

“If you don’t volunteer then I won’t volunteer.” Johanna bargained. You went quiet pressing your lips into a thin line. Just like you knew her well enough to know she’d volunteer, she knew you well enough to know you would to. It was hypocritical so you agreed.

Johanna kept her unwavering eyes towards you. You matched her gaze until you found a soft glint in her eyes. Your shoulders relaxed as you looked a way. A deep sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, whoever gets picked for the reaping gets picked.”

“Great but we’re training for this. I am not going to have a rusty tribute as my mentee.”

~

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears and thumped against your rib cage. Your legs were wide enough for Johanna to fit between them. She stood in front of you playing with your hair as you buried your ear into her chest. Hers was almost as fast as yours but there was comfort in wrapping your arms around her.

You didn’t want to let go of Johanna. The thought of having to watch from the sidelines where you physically couldn’t protect her. The pressure in your chest felt like a bubbling volcano, stress building up before an eruption.

Usually the silence with Johanna was comfortable being able to be in the moment, in her arms. This time, the silent air was heavy. The small ticking of the clock reminded you of the looming possibility of going back to the arena.

You loved her. You made a promise not to volunteer but you had to. You had to protect her. Blight and Old Spruce came to pick you up for the reaping. When they knocked, Johanna gave you one last squeeze to your hand to comfort you. She made it a habit to hold your hands when you slipped into a memory lapse to keep you from rubbing the skin off your hands. In return you stocked and supplied the wooden logs for Johanna to split when her anger rose.

You snuck her a peck on her lips before the four of you trudged to the town square where the entirety of District 7 awaited the victors. The hot July sun did nothing to ease your worries as it heated your arms. You rocked onto your toes as the escort stepped onto the stage. It was ironic being an eligible tribute again. Seven years ago you dreaded for the slip to say your name and now seeing all the faces of District 7 on this raised platform, you prayed it was your name being called.

“Ladies First.” You stood staring out to your home. After these next moments, your life would never be the same. Either you get reaped and survive the loss of your closest friends turned enemy, Johanna is reaped and survives, you are reaped but die or Johanna is reaped but dies. The loss of it all would turn anyone insane.

Technically, you didn’t promise, you only agreed because it would get Johanna to not volunteer. So you could and you would. To your right, you could see Johanna eyeing you and you returned a glare.

“The female tribute from District 7 is...” He paused for dramatic effect and your heartbeat rose in your throat. Let it be me. Let it be me Let it be me. “Johanna Mason.” Your heart plummeted before turning your head to the escort. You weren’t going to accept this.

Before you could even open your mouth to object, you felt a sharp pain on your nose and a small pop in your neck from the force. Your head hit the ground and everything went black.

When you came to, you were on the train staring straight at Blight across from you on the table. “What the fuck happened?”

“Oh she’s back.” Spruce called. “You were out of it for about 30 minutes.”

“What do you remember?” Blight asked.

“Johanna was reaped and then it felt like my nose exploded.” You say wincing at the pain on the bridge of your nose. You groaned holding your head.

“Doc says you got a broken nose and a concussion.”

“Where’s Johanna?”

“The peacekeepers restrained her in her room.” The escort called. “She knocked you out in one go. She must’ve been so pissed that she was picked.” You shared a look with your fellow victors. The escort hadn’t been here to watch your relationship with Johanna. Both of you were great about hiding your relationship during the annual hunger games.

“So which of you got reaped?”

Blight took a deep breath. He took a swig of his alcohol laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Can’t believe they’re making me go back after 20 something years.”

“So you and I are mentors.” Spruce solemnly said patting you on the shoulder. “Should I take Johanna?” He asked keeping up with appearances. Ironically it was like the 71st Hunger Games again. Mentoring was set by priority. Old Spruce had said yes to mentoring while the others said no meaning you had no choice but to mentor Johanna. This time you could choose her.

“No. No I’ll talk to her.”

“Take things slowly okay, you took a big fall.”

“Yes dad.” You joked. Dad was nice, ‘Old Spruce’ was pushing 65. He had been your mentor during your games and continued to take care of you afterwards.

The walk to Johanna’s room was short luckily. A peacekeepers stood outside the door and you smiled at him. “Hi I’m here to talk to my mentee.” He looked at you and stepped aside. As soon as the door slid closed, you looked at Johanna. “You fucking bitch.”

She turned her attention to you from the fuzzes of green zooming past the window. A soft smile plastered on her face. “You promised you weren’t going to volunteer.”

“Technically I didn’t. I agreed so you wouldn’t volunteer. We didn’t shake on it or pinky promise or sign a contract so….”

“You were going to volunteer.”

“Yes.”

“Great I’m glad I know you well enough.”

“Decking me in the face was part of the plan?”

“Absolutely.” You stared at her unamused. “Don’t look at me like that. We both know we were going to break that promise to protect the other. Maybe you planned that all along or it was a last minute thought but I saw the look on your face. I anticipated it and knocked you out before you could.” Johanna told shrugging her shoulders as she walked towards you.

“You broke my nose.”

“It’s better than you dead.” Johanna countered. “I said I wasn’t going to let you go back in. I made that promise to myself and I kept it.”

“What do I do if I lose you? Do you think you’re the only one who loves in this relationship.”

Johanna held onto your waist. “First, avenge me. Second, none of us want the other to go in but someone is going to be forced to. I’m sorry, I’d rather it be me than you. You would be safer.”

“Safe is a relative term and when did you become such a sap?”

“Oh you know, since I started dating the best girl I’ve ever met.”

“Shut up.”

“Why don’t you make me.”

You closed the gap and let your lips meld with the younger girl. Slowly, the two of you walked towards her bed. She sat on her bed and you climbed on top of her with little room to breathe. Johnna wrapped her arms around the back of your neck to bring you in closer deepen the kiss. She flipped you over before nuzzling her face into your neck.

You held her in your arms playing with her hair. Lulling yourself to sleep. “Don’t die okay.” You whispered.

“I won’t.”

“I do hope you break your nose though.”

“Ugh get over it.”

“No! Although it was a smart countermove.”

“Thank you. I thought long and hard about it for all of 5 seconds after you first told me not to volunteer.”

“Well that’s the last time I trust you.” You joked.

“You love me.”

“I do. I know you do too.”

“Yeah, I do.” Johanna sighed. The both of you laid motionless embracing the other, enjoying the moment.

[oukabarsburgblr]

Still smash tho 😍 just smash.

- 🍪 anon

Daisuke, who was clad in a formal black-tie suit, stood and spoke. "All rise." The judge, Sousuke, heels clicking behind them as they walked to their high seat in the middle of the court.

"Please be seated." Members of the floor, sat in their respective seats in complimentary silence.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Calling the case of the Author of the Blog versusz..." Sousuke flipped the script in his hand.

"🍪?"

Said defendant nodded in their seat, their lawyer beside him, Haru who sighed in his palm. After the swearing by the Bailiff ensued, and the opening statements continued. Ouka who was the offened side, acted as the prosecutor as well to their demands.

Sousuke muttered, calling for Ouka. "The prosecution may present its first evidence."

"Thank you." Ouka coughed, adjusting their tie as they stood clad in the center of the court, eyes zeroing on the defendant. "I will now present the evidence that is needed to end this trial and brinng justice to myself."

Sousuke, the judge with a fake wig was already yawning. A screen rolled down with a projector lighting the flat surface. Gasps of shock came from the audience, Haru sinking into his seat in embarassment.

"It is a clear cut case, that the defendant is GUILTY! As per charged. And I demand justice to be brought to my inbox AND TO THE SANITY OF MYSELF!!" Ouka pointed to the defendant.

"Order in the court!" Sousuke knocked the gavel onto the desk. It wasn't even that serious, Sousuke just wanted to knock it because it looked cool.

Haru stood, as the lawyer and the public defender. "Your Honor, my client is presumed innocent until proven guilty!" He knows damn well the defendant is guilty. But that was what people said in movies.

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THEY ARE GUILTY!!"

Argument ensues. It was pointless rambling and insults back and forth, Sousuke was just waiting for someone to get jumped while Daisuke was tired typing the whole conversation on print.

It arrived to the decision of the judge. Sousuke wasn't really listening to their argument but he took one look at the screenshots and made his decision.

"Beyond without a shadow of a doubt, the defendant is found GUILTY." He smacked the gavel several times, Daisuke yelling at him to stop.

The defendant is taking away in cuffs and Ouka jumped Haru in his seat. "JUSTICE IS SERVED!!" Oikawa's stupid trumpet theme plays.

-

GO TO JAIL😭

Anyways this was fun to write. See yall next time!

[betyloca]

Fenómeno de circo

Summary: Kurt is sent on a mission in Latin America where he has to look for a mutant in a circus where he meets you at your show.

kurt wagner x latin mutant reader

warnings: abuse /grocerias/Spanish/violence

Kurt walked through the streets of Buenos Aires inspecting the area while looking for the place where the person he had to find would be. He had been assigned the mission of finding a mutant who was in a circus.

That brought back memories when he lived in one, he spent almost his entire childhood in the circus.

He looked in front of him, seeing the entrance to the amusement park, he entered, seeing all the people looking excitedly at the attractions, children running everywhere, he looked in all directions but he couldn't find the tent, he went to ask a worker.

Kurt: Excuse me, do you speak English?

Worker: Yes, how can I help you?

Kurt: Do you know where the circus tent is?

worker: behind the roller coaster there is a tent if you are interested - pointing towards the attraction

Kurt: thank you - as he leaves for the attraction

As he headed he could notice how men were paying their entrance to the guard "damn" he thought as he walked away without being seen when the guard got distracted Kurt teleported inside the tent.

He saw the entire crowd of people applauding the show, he could tell that they were not Latinos but North Americans. He hid with him and took shelter among the people. He began to inspect the clown show, making a fool of himself.

While they were falling and making jokes among themselves, when their act ended they said goodbye to the audience. When the presenter appeared he saw how they brought a cage covered with a cloth

presenter: hello ladies and gentlemen, finally the act you were waiting for, be careful because what we have is a mutant, will you have your eyes open and consider the question, is it a woman or a beast? Discover it the great lady monster.

When he said that under the cloth showing a woman with a sword hanging from a trapeze

presenter: look, is it a woman or a monster?

He said hitting the cage with his cane. She seemed to get upset when I came down and noticed her dark hands ending in claws, her animal feet and her yellow eyes like those of a predator. She leaned against the bars roaring like a lion.

x: she is a monster

x: all mutants are

x: they should be locked up like this

He hated how those people spoke, he started to get a little closer.

presenter: do you want to see her eat?

people shouted saying yes

people appeared throwing a bucket of animal meat into the cage she immediately ran towards the meat to start devouring it the people began to exclaim that it was a beast "how can they humiliate a person that way" I thought I saw how people began to Throwing things at the cage, hitting the poor girl, she started to growl when she ran to the bars when she made contact with them, she flew to the center of the cage unconscious.

presenter: sorry treasure, be careful with the electricity

He said while everyone started laughing, a person arrived to take her out of the cage to take her. When I noticed that, I saw my opportunity. I immediately teleported in front of the men. I started hitting them, taking the girl and teleporting away from there.

~~~~•~~~~~~~~~•~~~~

You woke up little by little, your muscles hurt, you felt something soft and comfortable underneath you, it didn't feel like the ground.

x: calm down you are safe. you heard you opened your eyes a little you saw a blurry person you opened them suddenly moving away from the strange person growling at him when he tried to get closer

x: I won't hurt you, I'm a mutant like you, do you understand me?

You heard him ask, did you understand little English?

y/n: yes

Kurt: Okay, I'm Kurt Wagner.

he said extending his hand

You just looked at her with half-closed eyes.

Kurt: I know you don't trust me but I'm not a bad person.

You just put your knees on your chest, hugging them away from him.

He looked at you with sadness because they had hurt you so much so that you didn't trust anyone.

Kurt: You know, I also lived in a circus.

He said as he crouched down on the edge of the bed, you turned to look at him.

y/n: you don't seem like it un chico de circo

Kurt: Oh yes, I was a great acrobat, they called me the incredible nightcrowler.

He stopped doing acrobatics, you stopped being tense.

Kurt: Until I left there.

y/n: and where did you go?

Kurt: Some people showed me a mutant academy and I stayed

You look confused without understanding a little

Kurt: Umm.. academia ...mutant...you understand

You nodded, he asked your permission to sit on the bed, you moved to give him space, he sat on the opposite side to see you.

Kurt: If you want, you can come, no one will hurt you there, I promise, but it's your choice.

y/n: lo prometes if you stay close

Kurt: promise

y/n: okay

He smiled happily.

Kurt: Well tomorrow we will go now you have to rest Liebling I will be outside if you need anything

He said as he left you laid your head on the pillow you were happy your nightmare was over "adiós malditos idiotas jamás me volverán a lastimar" you thought now you knew you would be happy.

y/n: kurt te doy mi lealtad

you whispered to save yourself from that place until you fell asleep

~~~~~~•~~~~~•~~~~~~

I was outside Y/N's room, poor girl, but I'm glad that she's accepted there, as I promised. I won't separate from her. I'll show her that we're not all monsters. My goal now is to see her smile.