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alastor-simp · 10 months ago

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Bon Appétit! - Alastor x Fem Chef Reader

❥Summary- You were a very popular chef when you were alive, talented in making any dish in any cuisine. You sadly died from unknown causes and ended up in Hell instead of Heaven. You happen to find the Hazbin Hotel and applied for a job there as a cook. Everyone loved your cooking, including a certain red haired demon.

❥Tags: female reader, fluff, chef reader, friends to potential lovers, alastor is bad with feelings, slight romance, hazbin hotel gang, reader is an amazing cook, alastor is a foodie

❥Notes: I had this story idea brewing in my head for a whole week and I needed to type it out. Hope you guys enjoy it :)

"Hum hum hum hum~♫" Your head was bopping to the catchy jazz radiating from the radio. Your hands were placed against a metal bowl, one holding it and the other mixing it. Your name was Y/N, and you were the chef/cook at the Hazbin Hotel. During the time when you were alive, your dishes were very popular. You weren't extremely well known across the world, but everyone in your town knew about you and craved what you created. Your family owned a small restaurant, that was opened to all the locals. It was a bit difficult in the beginning since you were self taught, but as you got older, your skills improved. Over time, you expanded to other cuisines, ranging from American, Spanish, Japanese, Korean, and European.

How you ended up in Hell was still mind-boggling. You remember closing up the restaurant, and heading back to your apartment, only to see a large bright light and then pure darkness. You woke up after that in a very strange area, the sky was a pure blood red and the people around you seemed almost fictional. A large sign that said "Welcome to Hell" was a clear enough answer to where you were. Well there was no way for you to go back to the living world, so you had to just deal with it. Finding a job wasn't very easy especially since many of the places you saw, had very grotesque dishes, and you weren't skill with cooking eyeballs and beating hearts. You stopped at a wall covered with different flyers, some for killing services and job offers. The one that caught your eye was the very colorful one, decorated with stickers and glitter. "Hazbin Hotel huh?" That seemed like a good place to start, especially since hotels had guests and needed someone to provide meals. Smiling, you grabbed the flyer and began making your way to your destination.

Having arrived at the hotel, you were greeted by the owner, "Charlie Morningstar." She was ecstatic that you wanted to come and help at the hotel, giving you a crushing bear hug. She did ask about your skills and was very surprised when you said you were skilled in cooking. Dragging you inside, she allowed you to introduce yourself to the others. They were quite an odd bunch when you first saw them, but they seemed friendly. The demon holding Charlies hand was Vaggie. She seemed like a tough cookie, given how intense she was looking at you. Two other demons were sitting at the bar, chatting away. One appeared to be a spider like demon and the other was like a cat. The spider, who Charlie said was Angel Dust, gave you a flirtatious wink along with a hand shake, while the cat demon, Husk, just gave you a small wave. A small clattering of feet came from behind you, causing you to turn. You saw no one there, but then you felt something on top of your shoulder. Turning, you were face to face with a mini female demon with a large eye. She was gazing at you, wearing a huge smile, before she jumped off and ran back to where she came from. Charlie told you that was Niffty as she then introduced you to another patron of the hotel. He was a large black snack with pink eyes, wearing a grey suit and top hat. His face seemed nervous, but he had a kind expression. He gave a slight bow, while shaking your hand, telling you his name was "Sir Pentious"

Charlie kept looking around, wearing a confused expression. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Vaggie responded with her head shaking no. A large black circle soon appeared next to Charlie, then began to form into a person. The darkness soon faded away from the person to reveal themselves. The demon was dressed in a striped red suit, that went well with his monocle and bow tie. His bob hair cut was a crimson red, and were those antlers on his head. His fangs seemed very sharp, given how well you could see them through his wide tooth smile. "Here I am, Charlie my dear!" His voice was etched with static, reminding you of the old radio you had at your restaurant. "AH! Alastor! Just in time! I wanted to introduce you to Y/N. She is looking to work as a cook here." She push you closer to him, making you stand a few feet from each other. "Hello, nice to meet you." Giving a kind smile, you extended your hand out for a shake. The smile on his face widen, as he bent down, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. "Charmed!" His gesture gave you small tingles throughout your body. He then removed your hand and stood back to his full height. "So you are talented in the kitchen I presume?" Smiling more, you nodded your head. "Yes! I am self taught and I started working in my family restaurant at a young age."

Charlie then butted into the conversation, eyes sparkling. "Wow that's so amazing. What kind of food did you serve?" You twirled your hair with your finger. "Well it was the classic family restaurant, so club sandwiches, mac and cheese, homemade pies, the whole lot. But, I wanted to expand my skills, so I explored other cuisines to try and master." Angel Dust had gotten closer and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder, looking excited. "You any good with making Italian dishes toots?" Hehe it was cute how excited he was. You went over the list of all the cuisines you knew how to make, causing everyone's eyes to widen and mouths to drop, except Alastors, as he was still wearing a smile, but his eyes did expand a bit after listening to you. In a flash, you were pushed into the kitchen by everyone, faces adorned with wide smiles, waiting to see what you would make.

That felt like so long ago, as after amazing everyone's taste buds with your cooking, you were hired immediately on the spot. Realizing you were getting distracted from your thoughts of the past, you went back to cooking. Today you were making blueberry muffin cookies for everyone to enjoy.

youtube

(Love making these⬆️)

The batter was all set, and what you needed next was the blueberries. Heading to the fridge, you opened the wide door, looking for the small container. "Ahh found you." Finding the small container, you grabbed it, moving back to allow the fridge door to close. "Salutations, my dear!" a static voice spoke next to you, causing you to scream, as the container from your hand dropped to the ground, causing all the blueberries to spill out. "Al! Don't do that!" your response earned a laugh from Alastor. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! Didn't mean to give you such a fright." He batted his eyes at you, trying to appear innocent, but you knew he was joking. "Yeah sure you didn't. Great now I'm out of blueberries since someone made me dropped them." Your legs bent down to the ground, grabbing the blueberries. Standing back up, you marched over to the trash bin and threw them away. A loud *SNAP* came from behind you, causing you to turn around. On the counter was a mini basket, containing fresh blueberries. "Oh thank you." Looking back at Alastor, you gave a thankful smile. "Your welcome, my dear! May I ask what type of concoction you are preparing?" He bent down, leaning against the counter, with his hands under his chin. Grabbing a few handfuls of blueberries, you went to the sink to give them a quick rinse, before coming back after patting them dry with a napkin. "Oh I'm making muffin cookies. Was craving something sweet so I decided to make a bunch for everyone. I'll save you a couple." You smiled up at Alastor, as you tossed the blueberries in the batter, and began to fold them in. Alastor grimaced slightly at that, and just wave his hand at you. "No need, my dear! I don't particularly care for sweets!" You nearly dropped your spatula at that. He didn't like sweets things?! You had made other baked goods and desserts in the past since you been here and you had assumed everyone had gave them a try and loved them, so it was a bit of a surprise when Alastor told you that he didn't like sweets. "How come?" Tilting your head at him, you waited for his response. Alastor raised his head, giving it some thought, before he looked back at you "Just don't like overly sweet things. I have a very limited palate, so I prefer to stick with that." His smile widen at you, sharpening at bit as he seemed to be thinking of something gruesome.

You continued to prepare the cookies, scooping them and placing them on a baking tray. A sudden thought came in your head, and you turned back to Al. "What sort of foods did you used to enjoy when you were alive?" Alastor raised an eyebrow at that. "My, a curious one aren't you? Well I grew up in the roaring 1920s in New Orleans, Louisiana. Oh, how I miss the sights and the bayous. I preferred venison and other meats, but I did indulge on other culinary dishes from time to time. Gumbo, Jambalaya, Po boys, oh my!" Alastor seemed almost in a trance, as he kept talking about his past. It was nice to see him so happy and excited, when discussing the time he was alive. "It sounds like you really enjoyed it." Alastor looked back at you, eyes holding a certain tender look. "Yes indeedy!" Your eyes remained locked on each other, until Alastors eyes glanced to the clock on the wall.

"Oh! Seems its time for my broadcast! Ta-ta, my dear!" Alastor gave his microphone stand a twirl, before disappearing into the shadows.Once he left, you couldn't stop thinking about what he told you, about his past life. The joyful look on his face kept replaying in your mind, when he was discussing the delicacies he enjoyed. "I want to see more of that expression" you thought. You continued to brainstorm, as you waited patiently for the cookies to be finished.

**Evening- Alastors POV**

"Ah! What a pleasant stroll that was!" Alastor had arrived back to the hotel, after just finishing his evening walk. He arrived back quite late, since the other denizens were not parading through the hotel lobby and lounge. Placing his hands behind his back, he headed in the direction that would lead him to his quarters. A pleasant smell was wafting through the air, stopping Al in his tracks. "My what a enticing aroma!" Alastor leaned his head back, taking in the amazing smell. His feet began making his way, searching for where the aroma was coming from. He had arrived in front of the kitchen doors, which were slightly opened and the lights still turned on. Peeking his head through the crack, he was surprised to see you in the kitchen still. Your air was tied up in a bun, while you were adorning kitchen apron. One of your hands was busy, stirring inside a large pot, while the other was adding in some seasonings. Alastor gave a small knock at the door, letting his presence be known. "Still cooking, my dear? It is way past your bedtime!" Turning your head, you flashed a large smile at Al. "Oh! You're here! Come sit, its almost ready!" Your crooked your finger at Al, telling him to come closer and take a seat near the kitchen table. Alastor cocked his head at you, still confused on what was going on. He soon took a seat, placing his hands on his lap. "Wanted to surprise you." He heard you say, as he watched you grab a bowl, pouring the concoction from the pot to the bowl. You saw you walk closer to him, placing the bowl down in front of him. Alastor's eyes widen at the site, before turning to look at you. "My dear, what is this by chance?" Smiling, you took a seat on the other side of the table. "Its seafood gumbo!

(Bowl in front of Alastor)

Alastor continued to gaze at you in shock, then back to the bowl , then back to you. "Did you stay up just to make this for me?" He saw your face flushed as you rubbed your neck. "I did yes! You appeared very happy when you told me what you liked to eat when you were alive, so I thought I would surprise you by making a Creole dish." Alastor continued to stare at you, his eyes going soft from how sweet the gesture was. The smell of the prawns and cajun spice was making his mouth water. "This is my first time making this, so I hope you like it." Alastor nearly jumped when he heard that. "My dear, you never cooked Cajun food before?" You shook your head no at him. "I always knew about Cajun cuisine, just never got to it. Now come on, hurry before it gets cold!" You gestured for him to start eating as you placed your hands under your chin, copying him. The smile on his face grew, as he looked back at the bowl in front of him.

**Your POV**

You were sweating like crazy. This was the first time you ever made gumbo, and now you were scared that you messed up. Last thing you wanted was Al to try it, then recoil in disgust. Your eyes watched him lift the spoon of the broth and place it in his mouth. His expression was unreadable, making you all the more nervous. As he took the spoon out from his mouth, you saw the gentle smile on his face. "Superb." He took another spoonful of the broth, placing it back in his mouth, letting out a pleasant mmm. Phew! you were glad he loved it. You continued to watch him eat, before getting up from the table and walking towards the oven. Alastor didn't even notice you leave, as he was too immersed in the dish in front of him. The savory taste of the broth and spice that kept flooding in was so nostalgic to him. Soon there was nothing left, and Alastor leaned back against the chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Absolutely amazing, my dear! Thank you." Alastor motioned his head to look at you, as he saw you removing something from the oven. "Your welcome! Hope you have some room for dessert?" Alastor gave a small grimace. "My dear, I told you before, I am not one for sweets!" Giggling, you placed what you had made on a bowl, before sprinkling some powder on them. "Are you sure? Something tells me these might change your mind."

Carrying a plate in front of you, you placed it on the table. Alastor eyes once again widen at the sight. In front of him was a plate filled with freshly made beignets, piping hot and covered in powdered sugar.

"Go on, try one." You stepped back and made your way back over to the chair. Alastor seemed a bit hesitant to try them, the feelings of his past and his dislike for sweets were battling with each other. Moving his hand slowly, he grabbed one of them from the plate, hovering it next to his mouth. Finally he took a bite. Alastors eyes enlarged again, as he took another huge bite of the beignet, before grabbing another one. Soon there were no more left on the plate, only crumbs remaining. "Ahhhhhh~. Delicious!" Alastor wore a peaceful expression on his face, as he leaned back against the chair. He then heard you break into fits of laughter. "What is funny, my dear?" He eyed you curiously, as you kept laughing hysterically. "Ahahahahaha! You...you have powder all over your face!" Your finger was pointed up at him, as you were trying to calm down from laughing so hard. Alastor jumped a bit, before rubbing his mouth with his finger, seeing a trace of white on it. "Here, I'll give you a napkin." Getting up, you went to grab him a napkin for coming back to him. "Thank you!", Smiling, he grabbed it and began to clean his face.

Once he was finished, he looked back at you. His eyes held so much emotion, as he continued to gaze at you. He got up slowly from the chair, standing up to his full height, as he pointed his head down towards you. Raising a hand, he placed it on your cheek. "Thank you again, my dear. But, why did you go through all this trouble to make this for me?" Raising one of your hands up, you placed it against the hand that was on your cheek. "I wanted to see that expression of yours again. You seemed such in high spirits when you talked to me about your past, so I wanted to make you something." Alastor chuckled down at you, finding your reasoning simply adorable. "You reminded me of something my dear mother use to tell me "A way to a mans heart is through his stomach."" Your whole face flushed at that, painting your cheeks a deep red. Alastor slowly inched closer to you, bending his head down closer. His lips had landed on your cheek, giving it a soft peck, before he pulled back slowly to gaze at you. "Thank you again, y/n." His body began to morph into blackness as he became one with his shadow, and then disappeared from you, leaving you a blushing mess.

Tag List:

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complainblogforthevoid · 29 days ago

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When fic authors describe Jonouchi Katsuya's hair as dyed.

I get it, okay?

I get that usually you can find a blond delinquent in Japanese media and assume that the hair dying is an artifact of that. But we see that he's been blond since he was a kid, he wasn't rebelliously dying his hair to look like a thug when he was eight.

AND it's thematic okay!

People can assume Jou has dyed his hair and that changes their perceptions of him--they say ah he must be a violent thug, he's performing the Violent Thug Indicators. But he's not, and if he had been dying his hair when he was in the gang I think he would have stopped sometime after becoming friends with Yugi, as a physical demonstration of how he's leaving his violent past behind him.

The blond hair is just another way to indicate what assumptions people make about him not knowing the truth behind them.

For example blond hair = thug but really he's just half American and the hair is natural.

In duelist kingdom he really wants the money and people assume it's because he's poor and wants to spend it on getting cool stuff, but actually it's because his sister needs a surgery.

People choose Jou to duel because they believe he's an idiot and they can manipulate and beat him easily, and he is dumb and easily manipulated but also constantly surpassing people's expectations.

#maybe it's not that deep #but it's that deep to ME #I'm irrationally invested in the implications of naturally blond Jou and the way he's treated because of it #katsuya jonouchi #joey wheeler #ygo #complaintblog #fanon pet peeves

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theoutcastrogue · 2 years ago

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"The knife is a weapon of the Other"

"The emerging martial art of Bartitsu, appearing in middle-class magazines during the Boer War, was the encapsulation of British civilian gallantry. Yet Bartitsu would have slid into obscurity had it not been for its curious appearance in the Sherlock Holmes canon. The final showdown of the ‘duel’ between Holmes and Moriarty is a wrestling match between two Victorian masterminds. When Holmes returns to London he tells Watson that he and Moriarty went to battle at the Reichenbach Falls unarmed. Holmes managed to ‘slip through’ Moriarty’s grip as he possessed ‘some knowledge’ of ‘baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling’, adding that the art had on occasion been useful to him.

Founded in the 1890s by an Anglo-Scottish engineer, Edward William Barton-Wright (1860–1951), Bartitsu was a synthesis of British boxing, French la savate (kickboxing) and Japanese jujitsu. Barton-Wright tapped into the need for a bourgeois form of self-defence, something which he could promote as being British and yet was also exotic and refined.

The principal aim of Bartitsu’s promoters was ‘to provide a means whereby the higher classes of society may protect themselves from the attacks of hooligans and their like all over the world’. These urban gangs were a new form of folk devil, descendants of the mid-Victorian-era garotter. While they were armed with clubs, knuckles, iron bars and leather belts, it is doubtful that they carried firearms. Nevertheless, the press did represent the hooligan as a threatening presence.

Perhaps the scares promoted the growth of a burgeoning culture of ‘British’ self-defence which avoided the aggressive and increasingly unmanly action of using a firearm against a ruffianly lower-class opponent equipped only with basic weapons.

Barton-Wright follows a literary tradition when he presents his martial art as a British form of self-defence. Pierce Egan’s well-known self-defence manual was supplemented with a word on the ‘Englishness’ of physical heroism, arguing that ‘Englishmen need no other weapons in personal contests than those which nature has so amply supplied them with’. In 1910 the former lightweight boxing champion Andrew J. Newton said in his manual Boxing that ‘the native of Southern Europe flies to his knife’, whereas the ‘Britisher […] is handy with his fists in an emergency’. Elsewhere it was maintained that the ‘Italian, Greek, Portuguese, or South American’ ‘give preference to the knife’ while the Englishman extols boxing. For Barton-Wright, British boxers ‘scorn taking advantages of another man when he is down’, while a foreigner might ‘use a chair, or a beer bottle, or a knife’ or, ‘when a weapon is available’, he might employ ‘underhanded means’. The views of these articles reappear in a later self-defence manual of 1914, where it is argued that Britons ‘live in a country where knife and revolver are not much in evidence’. This statement about the low number of firearms and edged weapons can be read as an attempt to extol British virtues and is not necessarily representative of reality. The knife is a weapon of the Other. Barton-Wright’s view that English practitioners of Bartitsu are principled men is reflected in the Sherlock Holmes canon, where Holmes never uses a knife, although his enemies, whether foreign or British, do so at times."

— Emelyne Godfrey, Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013) (very abridged)

#Masculinity Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature #Emelyne Godfrey #theory #how to stab #sherlock holmes #arthur conan doyle #bartitsu #rogues in fiction #moral panics #dishonour on your cow

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honeyhae-svt · 4 months ago

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On My Command

SEVENTEEN FANFICTION (SERIES)

AFAB!READER x SEVENTEEN - MNID!!!

GENRE: Mafia, Businesses, Dark Romance, Smut, Gangs, RomCom, Action, Fem!Reader x Mafia!Seventeen, Baddie!Reader x Businessmen!Seventeen

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: Language, Kissing, Making Out, Persistence. -warnings for this chapter

♡-Mention of other groups like TXT, EXO, ENHA, G-IDLE, LE SSERA, NCT DREAM, RIIZE (this is a series so ig i will be adding more to than these warnings) - MDNI OR I WILL BLOCK THOSE WITHOUT AGE INDICATOR ON BIO.

READER IS NAMED LI MEI QIANG!!!

>>>> IMAGES ARE FROM PINTEREST so yeah, ctto. Enjoy babies. ♡

On My Command - Masterlist (Chapters)

CHAPTER 2

"I heard our rival's CEO is either Chinese or Japanese," Wonwoo remarked, drawing the group's attention. "Who did you hear that from? And why didn't you share it as soon as you knew?" Jeonghan demanded.

"We weren't sure yet... so we decided to wait until Minghao and Hoshi could confirm it," Wonwoo explained. "What we know for sure is that they're not Korean," Soonyoung added, and Minghao and Hoshi nodded in agreement.

Xu Minghao is a Chinese member of Seventeen, known for his skills as both a hacker and a slasher. He's adept with blades, particularly nunchucks, and excels at coding. His contributions to the company include producing, design work, and managing store branches throughout the city alongside Mingyu.

Minghao shut his laptop and whispered something to Soonyoung, who nodded in response.

"I swear, if you keep another thing from us, I'll be the one to cut your tongues off," Seungkwan said, rolling his eyes at their exchange.

"S.Coups told us to keep quiet until now," Minghao clarified, and Wonwoo and Soonyoung. "But we need confirmation soon. The shipments are arriving in three days, and we can't afford any sabotage," another voice chimed in.

"We're aware," Jeonghan replied, glaring at the hacking team. "These hackers are too slow and don't take their jobs seriously."

"You can't blame us entirely. We've already done a lot for the group," Jihoon retorted, clearly annoyed.

"Jun, Dino, have you found any information yet?" Joshua asked, cutting through the argument. "We just returned from another mission, so apologies for the delay. We've confirmed that the rival company is indeed Chinese," Junhui said, tossing an envelope onto the table.

"You had this information all along and didn't share it sooner?" Jeonghan asked, grabbing the envelope and scanning its contents.

"We only just got it ourselves. Don't put the blame on us," Junhui replied.

"Well at least you guys did better on your researching than the hacking team," Seungkwan says, side-eyeing the team mentioned which makes Hoshi want to leap and beat Seungkwan up into a pulp, but of course, he wouldn't do that. Seungcheol would kill them if they caused another trouble.

Wen Junhui, another Chinese member of the group, is renowned for his research skills alongside Dino. He contributes to both planning and production and is responsible for disguises, which he handles with great expertise. His insane visuals are enough to make you think he'd bring no harm.

Lee Chan Lee Chan, known as Dino, is the maknae and excels in cons and disguises. He plays a key role in the group's planning and production and is known for his charisma, which enhances his disguise work.

Jeonghan, Joshua, Woozi, and Deokyeom left for their separate meetings, leaving the remaining eight members in the room.

"This is our first mission failure," one man said, disappointment evident in his voice. "It's not a complete failure yet. The deadline isn't up," Soonyoung assured him. "We were split into three groups, each with four members. We might have managed better if we had worked together."

"Ay, ay, it's alright, Vernon-ah. We just need to learn from our mistakes and do better next time," Seungkwan said, patting Vernon’s shoulder. "Besides, we all had different missions, so we couldn't assist each other."

Chwe Vernon, the American member, has high expectations and views 'failure' as unacceptable. He is involved in both business and gang operations, excelling as a strategist and sharpshooter.

"Even so, it's okay to be disappointed," Wonwoo said, standing up. "I'm leaving," he added before walking out."I’ll leave too," Vernon said, also rising from his seat and exiting. "Those two really have such huge egos," Seungkwan remarked as he watched them go.

You were at work at the beauty store, successfully convincing a customer to buy three products. The sale boosted your confidence.

"Mei, our boss is visiting today because of yesterday's incident," Yuqi informed you, and you acknowledged the news.

Li Mei Quiang / YN, the protagonist, is a persuasive and observant 22-year-old Chinese who has lived in Korea since age six. Your expertise in psychological thinking and sociability makes you effective in your job.

Song Yuqi, a Chinese who moved to Korea four years ago, has become your close friend. She often calls you 'Unnie,' meaning older sister, as she is two years younger than you.

Choi Beomgyu, Choi Beomgyu, your best friend and a part-time store employee, is a year older and works as a musician. His social nature and connection to his band add to his role at the store. He also has his own set of other friends that is part of his band, and is practically a social butterfly.

Lee Heeseung, one of the people that you hold close with, your guardian since you were six, took you in when you were lost at the airport. Though his family needed convincing, he became your legal guardian and treated you like his own sister (once he reached his legal age). Ever wondered how a six year old even got there? Well, you were lost at an airport, you didn't know how to speak korean, so he took you with him.

He works at a small company, enough to make a living while taking care of you. He is five years older and treats you like his real little sister.

—AEYA HERE!: Count this as one of character introduction! Hehe, and, oh.

Choi Seungcheol is the boss of the Seventeen group, known for his stern and commanding presence. He has successfully led the group in both business and gang activities for five years.

3 days later.

The tension in the air was palpable as you stood in front of the manager, his eyes drilling into yours with an intensity that made your skin crawl. “You didn’t recover the stolen products, did you?” His question was pointed, almost as if he was challenging you.

You raised an eyebrow, biting back the urge to lash out. “No, sir...” you answered, your tone laced with thinly veiled sarcasm. His hand shot out, gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He smirked, a sinister glint in his eyes. “You know what that’ll cost you, right?”

A dangerous grin curled your lips. “And why exactly am I the only one getting punished? It’s not my fault your damn store doesn’t have any security.” You swatted his hand away, your voice dripping with defiance. Yuqi and Beomgyu exchanged knowing glances—they’d seen this side of you before.

The manager’s eyes narrowed, caught off guard by your audacity. “You little—do you want me to fire you?”

You didn’t back down. “Fire me? Because your store doesn’t have the budget for a single security guard? Or is it that you’re pocketing the money instead?” You tilted your head, feigning innocence, your voice cutting through the room like a knife.

For a moment, he was speechless, his bravado crumbling. “W-what are you implying?” gulping in his words at the sudden statement you had made. You grinned in a smug kind of way like the proud and confident woman that you are.

“You know exactly what I’m implying,” you shot back, leaning in just enough to make him uncomfortable. “The company’s successful nationwide. There’s no way it can’t afford proper security unless someone’s skimming off the top. Should I take this up with the CEO?”

Yuqi and Beomgyu were silently cheering you on from behind. Your boldness was nothing new to them, but it never failed to amaze. The manager, realizing he was backed into a corner, stammered out a weak excuse before scurrying off, tail between his legs. Of course, he could've defended himself, but you knew too much and he just couldn't find the words to deny it. He'd get away from more humiliation. As the manager, he'd have more power over you, but you towered over him so quickly he didn't have the time to escalate things. He didn't see that coming, he was the new manager after all.

“Damn, that was epic,” Beomgyu whispered, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Seriously, unnie, you’re my hero,” Yuqi added, eyes shining with admiration.

You waved them off, checking your phone as it buzzed. The manager had sent you a message, instructing you to handle an incoming shipment at the airport. A sly smile crept onto your face as you replied with a curt, “Send me the details.”

Jeonghan, Joshua, Woozi, and Deokyeom were sipping their coffees, scanning the bustling terminal. They were waiting for the arrival of a critical shipment—a shipment they suspected had been compromised by their rivals.

“There,” Jeonghan muttered, nodding towards a woman talking to a man who matched the description of the dealer they were expecting. His eyes narrowed as he noticed something off. “That’s not the manager.”

“What do you mean?” Joshua asked, following Jeonghan’s gaze.

“The manager is supposed to be a guy,” Jeonghan replied, suspicion growing in his chest. “Could they be using someone else to do their dirty work?”

Woozi was already tapping away on his laptop, pulling up information on the mystery woman. “Li Mei Quiang... She’s listed as an employee from one of our branches, but there’s not much else here.”

Jeonghan’s mind was racing. “Why would a manager delegate something this important to a regular employee?”

Woozi’s eyes widened as more information came through. “It’s possible the manager’s a spy. He’s only been with the company a month—just before this whole mess with two groups started.”

Joshua frowned, piecing it together. “It was all planned. They sent him in as a mole.”

“And what about her?” Deokyeom chimed in, nodding towards you. “She could be part of it, too. There’s so little info on her, and she’s been working there for two years. Seems like a perfect candidate for a spy.”

Jeonghan sighed, his gaze still locked on you. “We’ll keep an eye on her, but for now, let’s make sure these products don’t end up in the wrong hands.”

The four men watched as you and the dealer loaded boxes into a truck. The tension was high as they followed you to the store, where they intercepted you just as you were about to offload the shipment.

Woozi approached you with a steely determination, flashing his ID. “These products need to be examined first.”

You glared at him, blocking his path. “And who the hell are you to make that call?”

Woozi’s irritation was palpable, but he kept his cool as he showed you his identification. Reluctantly, you stepped aside, arms crossed, watching as they took the boxes.

---

“So, we managed to stop the sabotaged shipment,” Soonyoung said, slumping into his chair, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “But I’m still not sure about that girl,” Jeonghan muttered, pacing the room.

“You think she’s working with them?” Chan asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Possibly,” Jeonghan replied, rubbing his temples. “She might be more involved than we thought.”

“Relax, hyung,” Chan said, trying to ease the tension. “They wouldn’t send someone important out in the open like that. It’s too risky.”

Before Jeonghan could respond, Wonwoo and Mingyu entered the room, looking drained. “Turns out the ones who sabotaged our products were from EXO,” Woozi announced, breaking the silence.

“EXO?” Chan echoed, incredulous. “What the hell do they want with us?”

“They see us as competition,” Seungcheol said, his voice grim. “They’ve started a business here in Korea, and we’re in their way.”

Their company has been going well for the past 5 years, yet this commotion started about a week ago, making the rest of Seventeen members alert at the suddenness. EXO was a chinese group gang who had recently started their own business here in Korea a few months ago.

“Great, so now we’re dealing with a bunch of sore losers who resort to sabotage,” Seungkwan scoffed.

Seungcheol nodded, his expression dark. “We’ve lost a lot of money because of them. But this isn’t over. We’re going to double down on security and make sure every shipment is checked thoroughly. And as for that girl...”

Jeonghan straightened, his eyes narrowing. “We’ll keep a close watch on her. If she’s working with EXO, we’ll find out soon enough.”

He knew something was different too, but they also could be wrong. Wasting a time on that is just a big no for them given to the situation they're in for now.

Seventeen knew that they've already sent a few spies to their company to take note of whatever they had planned, so EXO was practically one step ahead of Seventeen.

A tense silence settled over the room as the members of Seventeen prepared for the inevitable confrontation. The stakes had never been higher, but they weren’t about to let anyone bring them down.

---

You walked back into the store, still reeling from the encounter. Your mind raced, wondering what the hell just happened. But there was no time to dwell on it—you had a job to do. And something told you this was just the beginning of a much bigger game.

The sun barely broke through the clouds that Sunday, casting a muted light across the room as you moved with purpose, determined to clean every corner of your apartment. Heeseung wasn’t home, so you had the place to yourself—rare time to get things in order on your day off.

As you wiped down the countertops, the silence was interrupted by your phone buzzing on the counter. You glanced at the screen: an unknown number. Ignoring it was second nature; you never took calls from numbers you didn’t recognize. But the phone buzzed again and again, the persistent vibration grating on your nerves.

“The hell is this?” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice as you prepared to block the number. Just as you were about to hit the button, the phone buzzed again, your thumb accidentally grazing the answer key in your frustration.

“You finally answered,” came a hoarse voice, instantly familiar and unwelcome. Your heart skipped a beat, a cold realization sinking in. “Who is this?” you demanded, now holding the phone to your ear.

“Baby… Please… Come back to me,” the man’s voice cracked, punctuated by the sound of soft sobs. Recognition hit you like a wave—this was your ex, the one you broke up with over a year ago, his obsession clearly as strong as ever.You hung up abruptly, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips as you massaged your temples, trying to stave off the headache that was beginning to form. The phone buzzed again, the same number flashing on the screen. You blocked it immediately, your frustration bubbling over. “How did this guy even get my new number?” you muttered. You’d changed it twice, yet somehow he’d found you again.

Hours later, the apartment was finally spotless, and the only task left was to take out the trash. You had missed the janitor’s usual rounds, so you grabbed the bag and headed for the stairs. As you descended, the faint sound of footsteps echoed behind you. At first, you brushed it off as someone else taking the stairs, but as you reached the third floor, a hand suddenly gripped your arm, spinning you around.

Your instinct was to fight, to kick the assailant away, but then you saw his face—Riki, your ex-lover. Your body tensed, recognizing him instantly.“Riki…?” you muttered, eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Nishimura Riki, the same guy you’d dated for three months before calling it quits. Heeseung’s friend, a year younger than you, with a reputation for being far too obsessive. Even after a year, he clearly hadn’t moved on.

“I told you, we can’t,” you said, your voice firm with frustration. “Babe, please, just one last chance,” Riki pleaded, his voice desperate as he grabbed your hand, ignoring the trash bag you were holding. “I just held the trash, don’t touch that,” you snapped, yanking your hand away. “Let’s talk some other time. Not now.”

But Riki wasn’t about to give up easily. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a desperate hug. “Riki! Let go of me or I’ll cut both your arms off!” you yelled, your voice echoing off the stairwell walls.

“Baby… I don’t know what I did wrong, why did we have to break up?” Riki’s voice was filled with pain, his grip still tight around you. “I swear, this guy is so stubborn,” you thought, pushing him away with all your strength until you were finally free.

“For the thousandth time, you didn’t do anything wrong. We just didn’t work out, okay?” you said, putting as much distance as possible between you and him.

Riki was a good guy—too good. Caring, loving, understanding, he had every quality someone could want. But that was the problem; he was too nice, and you didn’t feel like you deserved it. You didn’t take things seriously, and you knew that if you didn’t end it early, it would only hurt him more. But looking at him now, you realized how wrong you’d been.

You shouldn't have dated him in the first place, right? Your brother had set you up with him, on which you did agree to go on dates until you found it to yourself that you weren't that serious about it, which made you regret your decision.

“I’m sorry, Riki,” you said, your voice softer now as you turned to finally head downstairs. You hurried to the ground floor, feeling his gaze on you until you reached the exit. You placed the trash bag with the others by the side of the building, taking a deep breath as you bent over, hands on your knees.

You watched as Riki’s figure retreated, driving away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Just as you felt a slight relief, another figure caught your eye—a man dressed entirely in black, with a mask covering most of his face and a cap pulled low over his eyes. You’d seen him around the complex before, always looking out of place. You decided not to get involved—whatever his business was, it was none of yours.

Back in your apartment, exhaustion washed over you as you slumped onto the bed, scrolling through your phone mindlessly until sleep finally claimed you.

Across town, in a dimly lit meeting room, a man entered, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Eleven figures were already seated around a large table, their faces obscured by shadows. The man took his place, and the one next to him leaned in, whispering, “What took you so long?”

“Seventeen has upgraded their security,” the man replied, his voice low. “The new system’s protection is too high—I can’t hack into it anymore.”

The leader at the head of the table slammed his hand down, the sound reverberating through the room. “Shut it. Because of your reckless actions, they found out about the shipments! Now you can’t even stay focused!” he shouted, his voice filled with barely contained anger. “Contact those seven boys and the three spies I’ve placed in each of their stores. Seventeen is already on to us.”

The group nodded in agreement, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

The following Tuesday, you were back at work, talking to Yuqi about the argument you had with Heeseung the day before. “Typical sibling fights,” Yuqi remarked with a shrug, while you rolled your eyes in response.

“Even if I’m mad, I don’t have the right to be. He’s the one who raised me,” you said, sighing as you fixed the shelves, Yuqi nodding along.

After a brief silence, Yuqi suddenly perked up. “Oh, unnie, do you have any plans for your birthday tomorrow?” she asked, her tone light.

You thought for a moment before shrugging. “Not really. Heeseung said he’s busy, and Beomgyu has something going on, so I guess there are no plans this year.”

"But unnie, we should still celebrate!" Yuqi insists, her excitement has not diminished. "How about we go clubbing? You're stressed, and maybe a night out will help."

You considered her suggestion, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not a bad idea. I didn’t have anything planned, but I guess this could work.”

The next day, Shuhua picked you up in her luxurious limo, Yuqi and Minnie already inside. You wore a simple black dress with white off-shoulder puffed sleeves and a slit up the side, practical yet elegant. Your makeup was light, accentuating your natural beauty.

As soon as you stepped into the car, the girls squealed in delight, their eyes wide with admiration. “You guys act like you’ve never seen me before,” you quipped, rolling your eyes as you took a seat.

“We just wanted to give you extra attention since it’s your birthday,” Minnie said with a chuckle, the other two nodding in agreement. “Happy birthday, pretty girl,” Shuhua added, handing you a pair of designer bags.

“Thank you, girlies,” you replied, smiling as you accepted the gifts. Shuhua, ever the generous CEO, had picked out something luxurious, while Yuqi handed you a small box containing a delicate necklace engraved with all your names.

“Aww, this is really sweet,” you said, giving Yuqi a hug before slipping on the necklace. The car ride was loud and full of laughter, the four of you enjoying each other’s company until you arrived at the club.

The night was going well—too well, perhaps. A few hours in, the girls were already passed out, Minnie was nowhere to be found, Yuqi was slumped over the table, and Shuhua was making out with some random guy. You found yourself alone at the bar, the night still young but already feeling drawn out.

It was just after midnight, and you watched the crowd from above, perched on a stool with your legs crossed and your chin resting in your hand. You were starting to feel the effects of the drinks you’d had when a man walked into the room, instantly drawing everyone’s attention.

He was striking—tall, around 178-180 cm, dressed in a slim-fitting, jet-black suit that accentuated his lean frame. The suit’s fabric caught the light with a subtle sheen, perfectly tailored to his body. Underneath, a crisp white shirt contrasted sharply against the dark suit, the collar open just enough to reveal a glimpse of his collarbone. His deep burgundy tie added a splash of color, and a simple silver tie pin completed the look. His hair, slightly tousled yet meticulously styled, framed his sharp jawline, softening the intensity of his gaze. The way he carried himself—with a quiet confidence and a subtle, knowing smile—commanded the room’s attention.

His presence was magnetic, and despite yourself, being tipsy, you found yourself drawn into his presence. He started a conversation with you, offering you a few more drinks, making you feel more tipsy and you just couldn't help but feel drawn to this man in front of you. After a few moments of talking, the next thing you knew is that you had your lips all over his already.

~~~You've reached the end. Wait for Chap 3 ;)

On My Command - Masterlist (Chapters)

—AEYA HERE!: YNNIE??? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ and who is that man? (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠��⁠•͈⁠)

—AEYA HERE!: your likes, reblogs, follows are very much appreciated. it boosts my dopamine and makes me want to upload asap so yeah, interacting with me really helps ^^

-NOW OPEN FOR TAGLIST!!! MESSAGE ME / COMMENT YOUR @ AND I WILL BE TAGGING THOSE WHO WANTS TO BE UPDATED ^w^

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months ago

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Paul Blumenthal at HuffPost:

Former President Donald Trump’s most significant policy plank in his third presidential campaign is to implement a system of mass deportation to remove up to 20 million noncitizens from the United States, a plan that apparently aims to not only remove people living here illegally but also to chase away ― or accidentally round up ― U.S. citizens as well.

He is promising to deploy the military and deputize local police officers to round up millions of people, detain them in makeshift camps and then ship them off to other countries ― whether or not the destination is the person’s country of origin. This plan is billed as targeting only those who have come to the country or reside in it illegally, with a special emphasis on supposed migrant gang members. It offers a story of those who deserve to be here and those who don’t. Those who are part of the national community and those who exist outside its bounds and, perhaps, its laws. But 79% of undocumented immigrants in the U.S. have been living and participating in American communities for more than 15 years. They have married U.S. citizens, hold jobs that prop up their local and national economies and have children and grandchildren who are citizens. Ripping these people out of the country and away from their families will ripple through every community in the country.

“Communities are like a fabric ― the way that the threads are interwoven,” said Heidi Altman, federal advocacy director for the National Immigration Law Center’s Immigrant Justice Fund, an immigrant rights nonprofit. “If you snip at one, eventually the whole of the fabric comes loose.” This plan to tear communities apart will also ensnare U.S. citizens, green card holders and others here legally, either by accident or with intent. Trump and his advisers are already saying that’s what they’ll do. Tom Homan, Trump’s former acting head of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, was asked in a “60 Minutes” interview that aired Sunday whether there is a way that Trump’s mass deportation plan could remove undocumented people without separating them from their families. “Of course there is,” Homan said. “Families can be deported together.” What Homan is saying, without saying it directly, is that mixed-status families, with some family members who are U.S. citizens and others who lack legal status, can choose to self-deport if they wish to remain together.

There are currently 4.7 million mixed-status households in the U.S., according to the Center for Migration Studies. Among those households are 5.5 million U.S.-born children living with one undocumented household member and 1.8 million U.S.-born children living with two undocumented adults. In total, there are 9.7 million Americans who live in households with at least one undocumented resident. Trump and Homan propose an impossible choice: your citizenship and your home or your family. Similar mass deportations and detentions in the country’s history have done the same. The incarceration of Japanese immigrants and Japanese-Americans during and after World War II ensnared citizens and noncitizens alike. So, too, did the imprisonment of Germans, Italians and people born under the Austro-Hungarian Empire during both world wars. Trump’s inspiration for his mass deportation program, President Dwight Eisenhower’s Operation Wetback, similarly resulted in the deportation of significant numbers of U.S. citizens to Mexico.

But none of those programs was of the scale or scope that Trump imagines. There are an estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants in the U.S., according to the 2022 American Community Survey. Other surveys and estimates have found similar numbers. But Trump and his allies talk about deporting 20 million to 30 million people. There is no source for such a number. That would invariably mean targeting people with some kind of legal status, whether temporary or permanent. “They seem to be gleefully suggesting that they would include people here with some legal status in these roundups,” said Matthew Lisieki, a senior research and policy analyst at the Center for Migration Studies, a think tank that focuses on global migration. A deportation program that removes 11 million people or even more than 20 million would affect every single community in the country, invariably sweeping up even larger numbers of U.S. citizens and legal residents, taking them away from their families and putting them into jails, incarceration camps and, potentially, off to another country. As Homan’s answer on “60 Minutes” indicates, that’s a feature, not a bug. Trump has already proposed invoking laws that could be used to sweep up unnaturalized U.S. residents who have legal status.

The Alien Enemies Act of 1798, which Trump says he will use, allows the president to effectively suspend due process for anyone of a particular nationality or national origin when the U.S. is at war or is invaded by that nation. Invoking this law may prove challenging since the U.S. is not currently in a declared war, much less one against any of the Latin American countries that represent the point of origin for most undocumented immigrants in the U.S. And though Trump claims that the migration of people into the country amounts to an “invasion,” federal courts since the 1990s have largely rejected efforts by states claiming that the word “invasion” in the U.S. Constitution should be interpreted to include the voluntary migration of people across borders.

Still, it is possible that the courts today would take a different approach and declare that the president’s invocation of an invasion by immigrants is a “political question” that the judicial branch will not interfere with. That could give Trump a free hand to implement a brutal and sweeping deportation program. “There are no explicit limitations on what kinds of regulations the president can promulgate under the law,” said Katherine Yon Ebright, a counsel at the progressive Brennan Center for Justice and author of a paper on the Alien Enemies Act. The law has been invoked three times during conflicts with actual foreign nations: during the War of 1812 and both world wars. In each conflict, the president has not only directed deportations and detentions but also promulgated restrictions on noncitizens who had come from the foreign belligerents.

[...]

When Trump was in office, immigration officials ramped up the use of these inaccurate gang databases to identify and deport undocumented residents. Considering Trump has falsely claimed in his campaign speeches that “migrant gangs” have “conquered” entire cities, such an effort would likely be radically scaled up. This could lead to removal of people with legal status as well as those who don’t. Residents who have legal status under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program ― so-called Dreamers who were brought across the border by their parents as children ― have been incorrectly identified as gang members by local police and Immigration and Customs Enforcement. That would be one way to strip them of their legal status.

Trump’s top immigration adviser, Stephen Miller, has promised to “turbocharge” efforts at denaturalizing U.S. citizens. When in office, Trump ramped up denaturalization efforts with one Homeland Security budget document proposing up to 700,000 investigations into naturalized U.S. citizens. Civil denaturalization can be done to people who obtained their legal status illegally or are the child of someone who did so, who deliberately lied about a fact in their application for citizenship, obtained citizenship through military service but was then dishonorably discharged or by becoming a member of a subversive group. This last reason could implicate U.S. citizens incorrectly placed on gang databases or otherwise identified as gang-affiliated by law enforcement. Databases can only be used to identify the legal status of residents who have had interactions with law enforcement or certain government agencies. If Trump intends to ramp up deportations to the level he claims, his efforts would need to target workplaces and neighborhoods. This would, invariably, involve racial profiling by placing checkpoints or performing sweeps in heavily Latino neighborhoods or worksites. Such sweeps would undoubtedly ensnare U.S. citizens and inflict fear in everyone ― citizens and noncitizens alike ― within these communities.

Donald Trump’s diabolically fascistic plan of mass deportations is eerily reminiscent of the interning of Japanese-Americans in World II: a moral and economic calamity that would undo America.

Read the full story at HuffPost.

#Donald Trump #Economy #Deportation #Immigration #Thomas Homan #Undocumented Immigration #Mass Deportations #Operation Wetback #Alien Enemies Act #Stephen Miller #DACA

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apple-juice-consumer · 19 days ago

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Rooftop Gang Headcanons!! ✧.*

Characters; Shouta Aizawa (Eraserhead), Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic), Oboro Shirakumo (Loud Cloud/Kurogiri), Nemuri Kayama (Midnight).

Warnings; mentions of self harm in Shouta's section, mild spoilers for Vigilantes and the mha manga/anime, and slightly implied nsfw (if you squint). Also I'm currently recovering from a cold at the time of writing this so some of the headcanons may be worded wrong or weirdly.

Credits; the gifs are from pinterest and all the dividers were made by @cafekitsune

Shouta Aizawa

• During their highschool years, he would make tea for Hizashi after training if he used his quirk too much and hurt his throat.

• He sometimes tries to make jokes to cheer Hizashi up after they found out what really happened to Oboro. It doesn't work but Hizashi laughs anyways to make Shouta feel better.

• He usually does Eri's hair in the morning before he leaves for work, but if he doesn't have time or is running late, then either Hizashi or Shinso will do her hair.

• Coldplay fan. His favorite song is Green Eyes because it reminds him of Hizashi.

• He has narcolepsy, depression, and PTSD.

• Kept Oboro's jacket after he died.

• Him and Hizashi still have Oboro's old phone number and frequently text it silently hoping that one day he'll respond even though they both know that will never happen.

• Calls Eri "baby", "babydoll", and "sweetheart" (Dadzawa 🥺❤️).

• Has a very slight tan from training class 1-A outside.

• Faded cuts on his arm from when he used to self harm for the first few months after Oboro's death.

• Baby talks to cats.

• Also has at least two cats he named Midnight and Oboro.

• During Christmas, he takes his class on special field trips to look at Christmas lights.

• Gay, cisgender, and uses he/him pronouns.

Hizashi Yamada

• Japanese and American. His mom is Japanese and his dad American.

• He's a Child of Deaf Adults. Since his cries made his parents go deaf when he was first born, he had to learn both JSL to communicate with his mom and ASL to communicate with his dad.

• I also headcanon him as having albinism since blond hair is a side effect of albinism in Asian cultures while having red eyes is a side effect of albinism in European culture.

• His fear of bugs stemmed from when he was a teenager. Shouta and Oboro made him watch the movie Arachnophobia and he's been terrified ever since.

• Even though he would never say it out loud, Ochako and Jirou are his favorite students.

• Developed Histrionic Personality Disorder as a result of Oboro's death.

• Him and Oboro used to reference Llamas With Hats and Charlie the Unicorn RELIGIOUSLY.

• His favorite Disney princess is Rapunzel.

• He has a tramp stamp.

• Pansexual, genderqueer, and uses he/they pronouns.

• Grows his fingernails out except for his middle and ring finger, which he always keeps short (😏).

• His favorite movie is The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

• His hair is too thick for normal hair ties so he has to use scrunchies to keep his hair up.

Oboro Shirakumo

• Has tried to eat his clouds at least once.

• Blink-182 fan.

• Queer, cisgender, uses he/him pronouns.

• Some of his favorite foods were cotton candy and cloud bread.

• BONUS: Kurogiri sometimes let's Toga sleep in bed with him.

Nemuri Kayama

• Camie's aunt.

• Bisexual, aromantic, cisgender, uses she/her pronouns.

LMFAO I love how you can clearly tell what characters are the favorite and which one is the least favorite 😭😭. But anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading my headcanons for these silly goobers and if you want me to make more posts like this then feel free to request some characters!!

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hizashi yamada #present mic #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #oboro shirakumo #loud cloud #kurogiri #rooftop trio #headcanons #erasermic #erasercloud #cloudmic #erasercloudmic

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beemers-hell · 5 months ago

Note

You’ve done Sanford head canons, what about Deimos?

yall know the drill!

Deimos HCs!

Around 40 ~ 45ish (same as Ford

Trans man, Bi King

Mexican-American/Japanese

Has ADHD Combined Type, and though it's not as severe as it used to be, he's still struggling with executive dysfunction. He's fine to do the work he's told to do but he needs some bribing occasionally, i.e. the Nexus Mission with the chance of visiting Burger Gils lol

The fire-lit-from-his-finger thing is the result of him undergoing minor experimentation by the agency in the past, in which his DNA and body was being modified in order to allow him to wield fire powers. The experiment wasn't very successful, so he can really only do as much as use his hands as lighters, but he can also breath fire, though it hurts his throat to do so. The plume he can produce isn't very impressive in the first place, so he doesn't pull that trick out as much as he does the finger flame thing!

Speaking of the agency, yeah he's a dissenter! He used to work as a technician/IT dude before signing up for minor experimentation, after which he got bored of the work and decided to leave after he was approached by Doc, who he'd known very briefly from when Doc was working amongst the agency as well. The rest is history!

He has shark teeth, but he wasn't born with them. He had his teeth worked on shortly after he dissented bc he thought it'd look sick, which it does, but it also comes in handy when he's in a tight spot and can't use much else but the power of biting to get out of a situation lol

Obviously he's the funny man out of the gang, and seems to have some sort of quip or remark ready to go for virtually every situation or thing they stumble across. There isn't really any deeper thing to this aspect of him, dude's just naturally funny like that. Of course, he can go from "first I lol'd then i serious'd" if the situation calls for it, but a majority of the time he'll be providing the comic relief these guys so desperately need in a state like Nevada!

Deimos has pockets on his tactical gear getup specifically just to carry his smokes in, like of course he's got shit like bandages and ammo packs in others but the ones on his shoulders are his designated cigarette pockets. Dude really needs his fix!

Post Dedmos Adventures, Deimos will eventually have the rocks and all that shit attached to him removed, but it'll take a LOOOOOOOOONG time to remove them, as Doc and Sanford would need to harvest a LOT of skin and tissue and organs and all that shit to transplant onto him. Hell, he'll never really return to how his body was pre-other place escapades. He's gonna need a lot of recovery time after all is completed (he's not like Hank lol), and he'll end up mute from not being able to have his throat and mouth properly repaired despite their best efforts (Which is fine by him, he already knows ASL on account of his line of work lol)

Like Doc, dude is a nu-metal freak, fucker loves Korn and Limp Bizkit

Unlike Sanford, Deimos is a FANTASTIC cook (and baker!) anytime it's his turn to prepare meals everyone gets excited. If the world was still normal (or as normal as Nevada was pre-fall of Nexus) he honestly could've been pretty successful as a Chef!

#beemer asks #madness combat #madcom #madness combat deimos #headcanon

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deadbeat-motel · 11 months ago

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For my rewrite, I wanted to tie each sinner who's staying at the motel to a specific deadly sin to make it easier to understand what got them in hell and just for the fun of it.

It doesn't apply to the rest of hell to have a specific sin, but I thought it was interesting that the inhabitants of the motel will represent a sin.

Some of these characters are still rough ideas and will be subjected to some changes once i finalize the actual lores for these characters:

First up, Angel Dust is easy to confuse as Lust because most people might assume that since he's a sex worker, its probably what got him in hell right? Though, his sin had nothing to do with being lustful since he didnt become a sex worker until then (plus being a sex worker doesnt warrant someone a tacket straight to hell). Instead what really did him in was Gluttony since it was his appetite for vices that got him into trouble and also inadvertently lead to his death and it was that appettite that lead him to take any and all clients to feed his appetite for angeldust.

Nifty's sin is Lust, though not in the traditional sexual sense that we know. For her sin's sake, Lust is all about an uncontrollable desire that leads one to do horrible acts in order to attain what they've been obsessing over. In the rewrite, I was going to let her be a lot younger (most likely an adolescent-young teen) with a very skewed sense of what romance/love is like and have her lean in more towards a yandere-type character or a crappy creepypasta kid character (think Nina the killer levels of crappypasta). I'm torn between the two ideas at the moment.

[Also fun fact, hearing that nifty was a japanese woman from the 1950's kind of took me off because googling it, she wouldve been a woman who grew up in the middle of world war 2 and lived through a bit of the Post war boom if we assumed she's also american as well. Having someone with a background like that who acts like she's mentally a child makes it feel like Viv did no research at all.]

Husk's sin remains as Greed, as gambling just seems so hard to quit for him, even when his life is on the line, especially when he's cheating death so many times. Maybe it was after he had his first close encounter with death in his youth... or the few couple of times during the war... that he began to think of himself as too lucky to die. Unfortunately for him, he'd have to learn the hard way that whatever force that was trying to save him can't do anything about his own body failing from years of self-destructive alcoholism.

[Husk will literally kill me with all the research I'll have to do from 1910-1970 to get his story straight.]

Alastor is one Prideful mf. As an intelligent serial killer (possibly cannibal), he was able to evade the police whilst keeping the high-profile radio host job he killed others for. He enjoyed leaving clues and slipping little hints around his scene that stumped the entire police department. In the end, getting sloppy because of his own overconfidence in his abilities was what did him in and he was chased down and shot by a hunter in his escape.

Sir Pentious is Envious of the Victorian family and those above the middle class. He believed that he deserved to have the same kind of privileges they have especially since he was a brilliant inventor who believed he could forward Great Britain to a greater future. So he gave up 15 years trying to take over the monarchy by himself and failing miserably. He died due to an invention gone wrong and that was the day Great Britain was rid of its persistent annoyance.

[Some people may read about him in history books and confuse him for an anti-monarchist when this man's entire goal was to replace the monarchy with himself.]

Cherri Bomb grew up as a resentful youth of the Japanese 70's being a sukeban of a delinquent girl gang. Their Wrath was known all across the other local schools in their area and they were known for their sheer brutality. However, Cherri Bomb in particular was also feared by other members of the gang as she was ruthless punishing those who wanted to leave the group. She doesn't ever disclose how she died to others and thus no one is ever really sure how she ended up down here but no one really feels the need to ask.

[I'm extremely unfamiliar with Australian history so Cherri Bomb will have to have grown up in Japanese 70-80's delinquent culture.]

There's one sin left.... but since I don't really have anyone in the HH cannon that could realistically fit Sloth, I'm left with two options: Characterizing the blank slate that is Crymini myself or leaving the last resident as a community effort "Build-a-Sinner."

So first poll ive done but....

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #vivziepop critical #deadbeat motel rewrite #hazbin hotel criticism #deadbeat motel alastor #deadbeat motel angel dust #deadbeat motel nifty #deadbeat motel husk #deadbeat motel sir pentious #deadbeat motel cherri bomb

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kokoch4n3l · 9 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ ve kamleya ࿐ྂ "if you want to do something, go fall in love. fulfill your stubborn wish for once"

summary: in which during a deal with overseas businessmen, bonten finds out about your shitty ex from high school

pairing(s): slight bonten x desi!oc, implied mikey x desi!oc

notes: oc is punjabi cuz I said so and this is also kind of a self-insert so... title from my fav hindi song ve kamleya, the video has eng subs btw. dividers by cafekitsune

warnings: dark content 18+, canon typical violence, drug-related business(opium), drug trafficking, slight misogyny, implied/referenced ptsd, past abusive relationship, mean!manjiro, slight insensitivity, blood and gore, implied torture, implied murder, suggestive themes

word count: 3770

The smoky haze of the dimly lit room hung heavy, casting shadows that danced across the faces of the assembled men. Sano Manjiro, the imposing leader of the Bonten gang, sat at the head of the table, his steely gaze surveying the room with a mixture of authority and calm. Around him sat his trusted lieutenants, each one a force to be reckoned with in their own right. The only woman among them, commanded the attention of the room as she rose to address their guests once again after hours of debate. After all, Sano Manjiro trusted no one else to get this deal done. “I understand the… demand, for opium up in the north of India but you should also know we aren’t lowering our price either” She says in English, tone gentle yet somehow firm at the same time

Her words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the strength of their position in the negotiations. The guests shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware of the delicate balance of power at play. "We are prepared to meet your needs," she continued in the same language, her gaze steady. "But it must be on terms that are mutually beneficial."

One man clears his throat and speaks up finally. “You must understand Miss, we have no deficiency of suppliers, especially for opium,” The man says in English with a slight accent behind it as he casually adjusts his gold rings “The stuff from Japan is a lot higher in quality which is why we’re here doing this deal anyway. But we—”

“Because it is a lot higher in quality we cannot lower our price” She interjects with a calm smile “You know, labour costs and all”

The man's expression tightened, his gaze flickering between her and Sano Manjiro as if weighing his options. Behind him, his companions exchanged cautious glances, sensing the tension in the air. "We understand your position," the man replied finally, his tone conceding to the reality of the situation. "But surely there's room for negotiation."

Her smile remained fixed, though her eyes betrayed no hint of compromise. "Of course, negotiations are always possible," she conceded her voice like velvet over steel. "But we must be clear on one thing: our price reflects not just the quality of our product, but the risks we undertake to supply it."

Akashi Takeomi, silent until now, leaned forward slightly. "Our operations are not without their challenges," he added, his voice low back in the same language, his accent a lot thicker than hers "But for the right partners, we are willing to mitigate those risks."

The men turn to each other and start conversing in another language and at the same time, she quietly translates to Takeomi exactly what they’re saying back in Japanese. She eyes Manjiro who’s standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the meeting room. It looked like he was zoned out, staring at the skyline of Tokyo but she and the rest of Bonten knew better than to think that. He was listening alright, even when it didn’t look like he was. The rest were just leaning back in their chairs, bored from the constant debate. “Say, Miss…” One of the men, probably the youngest, says in English with a prominent American accent “I hear you’re from India too. What state?”

She raises her brow at the question but responds anyway. “Punjab”

The other men seem to get excited at her answer. Of course, they would. After all, what language were they speaking this entire time to each other? “Really? I knew I recognized that nose from somewhere” One man switches to Punjabi when addressing her “Women from the north are known for being beautiful. I should have known you were from there”

His change of tone catches Manjiro’s attention and he finally, since the beginning of this meeting, turns to look at the businessmen. He obviously didn’t understand what they said but his instincts were something even the executives were afraid of so she won’t doubt that he had gotten the gist of what had been said. She shifts in her seat, Takeomi and the rest of Bonten looking at her curiously. “As much as I appreciate the flattery, we still aren’t lowering our price” She replies calmly in English, knowing replying back in Punjabi would no doubt make Manjiro aggravated as he liked to know what she was saying at all times

The businessmen exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Behind them, Sano Manjiro remained silent, his gaze now fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that he was listening, that every word spoken in his presence was carefully scrutinized for any hint of deception or weakness. The youngest of the group seemed unfazed by her response, pressing on with his attempts at charm. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, an American accent thick even when speaking in Punjabi, with arrogance. "Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Her smile tightened, a glimmer of steel beneath her gentle facade. "I'm afraid not," she replied in English, her tone cool and final. "Our price is non-negotiable."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken threats. It’s just then the door of the meeting room opens revealing a new face. “Sorry I’m late, traffic in Tokyo is—”

Manjiro waves the newcomer off. He was obviously with the other businessmen. The other executives are annoyed as hell with the lateness, after all the meeting had been going on for hours already, but don’t mention it as they’re tired. But that’s when Manjiro notices his only female executive has gone still. She’s frozen which is extremely uncharacteristic of her and it worries him. So he does the first thing that comes to mind. “How about we take a break.” He says, voice low and everyone knows it’s not an offer but a command

Manjiro headed for the door of the meeting room and his executives followed behind, Takeomi having to literally drag her to stand at one point. They’re in the elevator. Manjiro eyes her as she removes her red-bottomed heels from her feet, sighing in relief. The elevator is going up to the top floor. “Any weaknesses so far?” Kakucho asks, his voice breaking the silence

“Punctuality apparently” Ran mutters in annoyance

They all look toward her, wondering what she had to say but instead, she’s silent, holding her heels in one hand, leaning against the elevator wall looking very out of breath. Rindo snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Dude” he says

“Hm?” she looks up at him, uncharacteristically dazed

Usually, she would have snapped at him, kicked Rindo in the shin or threatened to stab him with her heels but no, she didn’t. It was… concerning. Her uncharacteristic behaviour caught everyone’s attention. She isn’t usually like this— quiet, dazed and unconfident. No one is sure what to say, not even Kakucho who was Bonten’s collective impulse control and unlicenced and unpaid therapist. The elevator reaches the top floor and they file out of the elevator, into the private lounge. They watch in silence as she sits on the long circular-shaped couch, her heels dropped carelessly to the floor as she puts her hair up, revealing the hanafuda full moon tattoo on the back of her neck— on the same location as Manjiro has his. Manjiro takes a seat next to her and the rest sit on the couch too, staring. She looks at them, narrowing her eyes a bit. “What?”

“We should be asking you that” Mochi says as he lights himself a cigarette

Her gaze lingered on each member of Bonten in turn, her expression inscrutable, as if weighing her words carefully before speaking. The tension in the room tightened like a taut wire, anticipation thrumming through the air. "I'm fine," she finally replied, her tone clipped, though the strain in her voice was evident to those who knew her well. "Too many languages just making my head hurt"

The response did little to ease the unease that had settled over the group like a heavy fog. They had seen her weather countless storms with unyielding resolve, her strength a pillar upon which they had come to rely. But now, faced with her uncharacteristic vulnerability, they found themselves at a loss for how to proceed. Manjiro studied her carefully, his keen eyes searching for any sign of deception or weakness. He knew her better than anyone and understood the walls she erected to shield herself from the world. But beneath the facade of stoicism, he sensed a flicker of genuine concern, a vulnerability she had never shown before. “Nah uh,” Sanzu says rolling his eyes “You started being all weird when the motherfucker who doesn’t know how to be on time showed up”

She shifts uncomfortably. It seems Sanzu’s observation was a hit. Her discomfort was palpable, her usual confidence shaken by the blunt observation. She shifted in her seat, a flicker of uncertainty betraying her stoic facade. The others watched her closely, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity, unsure of how to proceed. Sanzu's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the tension that had simmered beneath the surface since the newcomer's arrival. She felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on her, the pressure to maintain her composure in the face of mounting scrutiny. "I..." She began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words.

She couldn’t find an excuse. But even as she stayed silent, she could feel the disapproving stares of her companions, their silent judgment weighing heavily upon her. Manjiro, ever the astute leader, sensed her distress and moved to intervene. "Enough," he declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "This conversation is over."

His authoritative tone brooked no argument, and the others fell silent, their eyes darting between her and their leader. “Go back to the meeting the rest of you”

Rest of you meaning, everyone leave and Manjiro and her stay. Without a word, the others rose from their seats, casting one last glance at her before filing out of the room. As the door closed behind them, a heavy silence descended, leaving only Manjiro and her alone in the private lounge. Manjiro looks at her, black eyes a bottomless pit of nothing. “What’s wrong?” He asks

There was no room for reflecting on his question. Manjiro was direct and needed answers as to why his best negotiator had suddenly frozen up in the midst of a deal. “You know him” It wasn’t a question this time but an observation

Manjiro understood the intricacies of their world better than anyone, and he knew the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of even the most seemingly innocuous interactions. The newcomer's presence had disrupted the delicate balance of power, setting off alarm bells in her mind that she couldn't ignore. “I um… I…” She isn’t able to get her words out

He gives her a look. “Tell me” It’s a command

She shifts uncomfortably. She fiddles with her white gold rings, they glimmer under the artificial lighting. “That’s my ex…”

Manjiro raises a brow. Her admission hung heavy in the air, the weight of her revelation settling like a leaden cloak upon them both. Manjiro's expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of concern danced in the depths of his obsidian eyes. "Your ex…" he repeated, his voice betraying no emotion.

She nodded, her throat constricting with the weight of unspoken memories and unresolved emotions. She had hoped to keep her past firmly buried in the depths of her mind, but now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she found herself unable to hide the truth any longer. "He... he wasn't supposed to be here," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought I could handle it, but..."

Her words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that enveloped them. She could feel the weight of Manjiro's scrutiny bearing down upon her, his gaze penetrating as he searched for some semblance of understanding in her haunted eyes. “And what did he do for my best negotiator to react like a psychiatric patient just at the sight of him?”

She shifts again but this time he holds her thigh to stop her from moving. There was no getting out of this conversation. Manjiro always got what he wanted and right now he wanted answers. “I… I dated him in high school”

It’s been years. She knows Manjiro is gonna belittle her for being this way over something that ended years ago but… She spills. She tries her best to tell him vaguely what happened— trying to be as vague as possible but Manjiro just keeps asking for more details. He wanted to know everything and once he was satisfied he pulled out his phone and typed something then threw it carelessly on the table. “Is that why you don’t date or sleep around like the others do?” He asks bluntly “Because of what he did?”

Manjiro looked angry. It was odd seeing an actual emotion in his eyes for once even if it was anger. She gulps. Oh man did she hate her stupid ex right now. It had been years since they broke up or well, since she forced the break up because he refused to let her leave. That stupid asshole traumatized her so badly that now even though she was an executive for Japan’s most ruthless and dangerous gang, he made her want to throw up from fear. “I’m sorry—”

“Shut up” Manjiro says lowly but she keeps going

“No, it was extremely unprofessional and I shouldn’t let my personal feelings come in the middle of work—”

He cuts her off again, grabbing her face and squeezing her cheeks together. Her lips jut out a bit from the action. The tips of Manjiro’s fingers dig into her cheeks and her skin warms under his touch, turning the most endearing shade of pink he’s ever seen. “And what exactly are you apologizing for?” Manjiro mutters looking annoyed

She thinks he might just shoot her, empty his Glock out in her head and get Sanzu or Koko to call the cleaners to get rid of her body and turn her into fishbait. “F-For fucking up the deal…” She tries saying as he squeezes her face tighter with the tips of his fingers

Manjiro chuckles and it has to be one of the scariest things she’s heard in her life. “Wrong. Apologize for dating such an ugly little bitch”

“... huh?”

She thinks she’s hearing things. “You heard me,” Manjiro says nonchalantly “apologize”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Was this some twisted form of punishment? Or was there something else, something more insidious, at play here? With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, She realized that she was treading dangerous waters, her every move scrutinized by the man before her. And as she searched his eyes for some semblance of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his demand than met the eye. Sanzu and Rindo often joked that she got away with a lot of things and Manjiro was the most lenient with her. Was Manjiro finally giving her the punishment she deserved for all the other times she fucked up? Oh man, no way she was going to die because of her stupid bitch ass ex. “Hey” He says snapping her out of her thoughts

She looks at him. “The deal is off. I don’t want it to go through anyway”

Her eyes widen at his words. “Wait w-what—”

But Manjiro's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. There was a hardness in his stare, a determination that sent a shiver down her spine. "I said the deal is off," he repeated, his tone firm.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of Manjiro's decision. Was this punishment for her perceived failure? Or was there something else at play, something she couldn't quite grasp? As she searched his eyes for some clue, some hint of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Manjiro's actions than met the eye. Manjiro's gaze held a steely resolve as she struggled to comprehend his abrupt decision. The implications of the deal falling through reverberated through the room, casting a shadow over their carefully laid plans. But beneath the surface, she sensed a tension, a hidden undercurrent that hinted at something deeper. "Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of desperation. "Why cancel the deal?"

Manjiro's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of something akin to regret in his eyes. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, one that sent a jolt of uncertainty coursing through her veins. "Because some things are more important than business," Manjiro replied, his voice low and measured.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his cryptic words. What could be more important than securing Bonten's position in the underworld? What could possibly justify throwing away the opportunity they had worked so hard to achieve? But before she can speak, he lets go of her face and his hand slides to the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers now digging into her— his— tattoo. Almost as if he could read her mind he asks, “Are you questioning my authority?”

She doesn’t dare move away from him or shake her no to answer him. Manjiro didn’t like being answered with gestures, he preferred words. “N-No…”

“Good” he says

Manjiro's hand lingered on the back of her neck, his touch was both possessive and unsettling. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. His nails slightly dig into the knobs of her spine, right on the tattoo. It doesn’t hurt but it feels hot. One thing Manjiro often reminded her of is that Bonten was his. That included the executives and that especially included her. Her life belonged to him and he clearly wasn’t taking her being afraid of someone that wasn’t him very nicely. “You’re really gonna let a guy like that stop you from ever falling in love again?”

The question almost stopped her heart because it was not what she expected him to ask. She had never expected Manjiro to broach such a sensitive topic, let alone express concern for her romantic endeavours. But beneath the surprise, a flicker of something else stirred within her—a yearning for something more, something beyond the confines of Bonten's ruthless world. "I..." she faltered, her voice barely above a whisper.

How could she explain the depths of her fear, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's hand tightened on the back of her neck, his grip possessive yet strangely comforting. "You don't have to answer now," he said, his voice softer than before but it quickly went back to being harsh “I am disappointed though”

His hand holding her thigh comes up to hold her cheek now. She’s frozen, unsure of what to do. "How could my executive let a little bitch like that do that to her and not move on for years?" Manjiro's voice was low, his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Her mind raced as she struggled to find the right words to say. How could she explain the depths of her pain, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's thumb brushed against her cheekbone, his touch both intimate and unsettling. She felt a surge of vulnerability wash over her, a raw honesty that threatened to shatter the carefully constructed walls she had built around her heart. "I... I don't know," She finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'm sorry..."

Manjiro's grip on her cheek tightened, his touch both gentle and commanding. He held her gaze with an intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight through to her soul. "Sorry doesn't change the past," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

She felt a knot form in her stomach at his words, a familiar sense of guilt and inadequacy washing over her. She had spent years trying to bury the pain of her past, to escape the memories that haunted her every waking moment. But now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she couldn't help but feel as though she had failed him in some fundamental way. "I know…" she replied softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own heartbeat.

Manjiro's thumb traced a slow, soothing pattern against her cheekbone, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions raging within her. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he speaks up “Fall in love again…”

His words are unexpected but she also makes no move to pull back from him. “Is that an order, Mr. Sano?”

Finally, Manjiro smiles. It’s genuine. Or at least it seems genuine. “Yes. Yes it is”

“Did you call the clean-up crew?” Ran asks Koko who’s cleaning the blood of his shoes

Koko nods wordlessly, a look of annoyance on his face as he had just bought these damn shoes yesterday. “Let’s go back up” Takeomi says as he lights a cigarette, stepping over a dead body of one of the businessmen

“Maybe not” Kakucho interjects as his eyes are on his phone, cheeks a little flushed

He shoves it into his pocket and shakes his head at his fellow colleagues. For a moment they’re silent until— “fuckin’ hell” Mochi grumbles as he transfers 10 thousand into Ran’s account

“See I fuckin’ told you he’d fuck her” Ran says with a shrug, eyes lighting up at the notification on his phone signalling the transfer had been made and completed

Their conversation is cut out with a loud scream as Sanzu stabs his katana through her ex’s chest. They look towards him and the pink-haired male simply shrugs.

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #sano manjiro #bonten mikey #bonten future timeline #manjiro sano #tokyo manji gang #bonten #bonten!mikey

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