#Red Dragon Syndicate

[which-chara-is-better]

[twilight-blonde-beauty]

Reign of the dragon (AU)

Natsumi looks over a crib, the baby was so silent it was almost like it wasn't real. The baby boy shivered a little so she covered him up. Little Akira Shinzouka was the lifeblood of the new Shinzouka syndicate with 60,000 men at the ready. Natsumi wore a large wedding ring encrusted with a golden dragon with the diamond in its maw. Natsumi is wearing a pink Kimono with blood red high heels that easily sold for hundreds of dollars.

The last two years of her life hadn't been easy but she had finally accepted her lot in life just like her mother as property of her husband. Shinzen ruthlessly played politics that more or less dissolved the Kuzuryuu's as a viable clan in the underworld. The wedding was more of a capitulation than anything. Natsumi sighed as she made sure her son was safe before exiting the room.

I need some damn change in my life. You know, i think i'll take that walk out to the veranda.

She says as she takes some sake laid out for her. Then, without much warning one of her bodyguards comes into the room.

Ma'am we've captured one of the people from an establishment that isn't paying protection.

Natsumi downs her drink as she motions for the other to bring the poor unfortunate soul to her.

@hopes-memorial (Botan) @dead-or-lie (Hajime Hinata) @despairs-memorial (Mondo)

[encachette]

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒂 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒘𝒃𝒐𝒚… ch. 1

3, 2, 1… 𝓁ℯ𝓉’𝓈 𝒿𝒶𝓂!

Ch. 2 here

❣ Dick Grayson x F!reader

❣ cowboy bebop au; neo-noir space western crackfic, loosely follows the plotline of the anime; animal(s) with human-engineered intelligence ❣ cw: angst, romantic and existential; begrudging friends to lovers; eventual smut; graphic depictions of (gun) violence ❣ MDNI ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Summary: The year is 2080. A ragtag team of bounty hunters traverse the galaxy aboard the Bebop, in search of their next few bands of Woolong (￦) and settling debts with their pasts.

❣ Author’s Note(s): 

Been on r/GWA lately and I kinda want a certain VA to translate Dick’s character into a GWA piece.  Sorry if you have never watched the anime, this is the only piece of fanfic I’ve ever written where I’ve actually cared to watch and/or read the source material. As always, feedback is appreciated.  I didn’t make Dick Grayson’s gun of choice the Jericho 941 (Spike Spiegel’s gun)  because it is Isr**li made (I’m a c*mm*nist from the American South, we like guns and hate g*n*cide).  You don’t have to watch the show to understand the story, hopefully. At least, I'm trying my best to make that the case. Anyway, enjoy.

Ch. 1: 3, 2, 1… 𝓁ℯ𝓉’𝓈 𝒿𝒶𝓂!

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

｡･ﾟ��･　　         ･ﾟﾟ･｡

　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　    ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶   ✦　　

In the glooming fog of dawn, two men in a spaceship adorned with the name “Bebop” whiz through the asteroid belt, hurtling away from the horizon of Ganymede, one of Jupiter’s moons colonized after Earth became virtually uninhabitable. Below, the metropolis surrounding Ganymede’s space station glowed neon, brilliant purples and eye-scorching blues fighting to get through the haze.

In one of those decrepit high rise apartments, a family of four, two mothers and two boys, sit around the TV, dinner trays upright and bathed by the schizophrenic glow of the television. One of the boys was flipping the channels, before his mother commands he pause on whatever program he landed on. “Eat your vegetables, bubba,” she encourages.

On the TV screen, a fuzzy duo appeared on the screen, exaggerated characters of a Western Cowboy from Earth and his milkmaid. A giant, flashing title card reads “Big Shot: For the Bounty Hunters,” while a raucous banjo screeches diegetically all throughout the man’s speech.

“On today’s bounty roster, the feds are kickin’  a whoppin’ ￦3,000,000 for the capture of Doctor Pamela Isley, operating under several botanical themed aliases.” 

The mothers’ ears perked up at the bounty reward and they tune into the rest of the program, doing their best to interpret the thick hyperbolic American southern accent emanating from the screen, foreign on the cowboy’s tongue.

“The Inter-Solar System Police believe Dr. Isley to be ridin’ toward Mars with a gang o’ goons from the Red Dragon Crime Syndicate.” A few cartoonish gun shots ring out. The insipid banjo, now accompanied by an off-tune harmonica, seems to be magnified by the sickly neon glow emitted from the TV, old enough to be floating out there with the space junk. 

The milkmaid, which upon further inspection was actually a rather curvy blonde, in Daisy Dukes and a plaid button up that put her breasts on display. She provides an exaggerated, pornish dimension to the program that often has the mothers clutching their pearls and covering their sons’ ears. But not today. Today, they wondered, What could be so bad about this fugitive that the ISSP would offer such a high reward?

“Oh, no!” the hussy wails, “Not Red Dragon!”

“Oh, yes!” the man responds with a slap on her ass, bleating like a goat, and turning around to put a bullet through a wooden Red Dragon prop. “Believed to be traveling under the alias Poison Ivy, Dr. Isley is wanted under suspicion of terrorist violence in Tijuana. Approach with caution. Wanted dead or alive by the ISSP.”

The crude cowboy lays another slap on the blonde’s ass, to which she yelps in a falsetto, “Oopsie daisy! The button on my shirt just— “

“Alright, that’s enough. Change the channel, honey,” one of the mothers drones out, snatching the remote control from the grubby little hands of her porcine child. 

Nobody bats an eye as the Bebop streaks through the cotton candy sky, horizon slowly becoming amenable to the neon metropolis as the view from the high rise window adjusts to the foreground. Jupiter loomed behind all the floating space junk and the silhouette of the skyline, stable and foreboding as the spacecraft disappeared into hyperspace.

.⋆⭒˚.⋆☾ .🪐˖☽⋆⭒˚.⋆

Alba City, Mars

It was cosmic, Dick Grayson swears it now.

The first time he sees you, you’re spending the last couple of bucks you have on some dog food for Haley, who was whining and nipping at the leather of your cowboy boots instead of standing guard like she was instructed. She acts as if I starve her, Dick huffs, shaking his head and stuffing his Beretta M9 into the gun holster underneath his leather jacket. As his towering figure approaches you, Dick is struck by how tiny you were compared to him, especially up close. A pretty girl, this random stranger, ripping open a small bag of kibble and pouring it into a makeshift bowl from the souvenir hat you swiped on your way out of the bodega. When you stand up straight and readjust the lengths of your hair so they stay put behind your ears, Dick gets a good look at you, unable to quell the interest. Flicking his cigarette butt into the trash and turning his head, Dick takes note of your lax smile, eyes glittering with affection for Haley. His eyes then land on his dog.

“Haley, girl,” he whistles, “there you are!” He starts to bend to the pitbull’s height, and opens his arms, “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for ya, Bitewing — come here!” The grey tail waves, white snout huffing the air and snorting with excitement when Haley figures out who dared to disturb her snacking. 

As owner and dog meet and rejoice at their reunion not two feet away from you, you take a second to appraise the companion of your new three-legged friend (who was adorably panting with joy, tongue floppin’), disapproving frown sprouting on your pretty face. What kind of dog owner would leave such a precious dog alone in these streets?, you thought to yourself.

“Leave my girl for one second and you’re beggin’ on the streets, huh Hales?” he says affectionately, scratching her behind ears before he addresses you, “Thanks for lookin’ after her.” 

When he hears no response he stops glances up to catch your disapproval transform into feigned friendliness.

“No worries,” you respond politely, taking stock of your surroundings and identifying the most efficient escape route.

“I saw that,” Dick says, turning on his usual boyish charm and nodding toward the proto-pet bowl. A quirk of his lips and a practiced smolder — reliable social shortcuts he liked to whip out whenever he wanted a woman to like him. 

“Dunno what you mean, chief,” you offer monotonously; emotionless, like you couldn’t be all that bothered to give him the time of day, but your heart starts hammering. Steady beat under your lungs, slight ring in your ear — you mentally get ready to reach for the gun sheathed inside your jacket. 

Dick frowns and straightens up, now looking down at you. Pretty eyes, if they weren’t shiftin’ all over the place, he thinks. He notices how silent your movements were despite the gravel on the concrete and what appeared to be hardy military-issued cowboy boots. You pull your Neo-esque sunglasses down to shield yourself.

“You okay?” his eyebrows knot in the middle. You notice a confident timber in his voice, cool and friendly, like he just wanted to help. Too earnest to be a cop, you think.

“No sweat,” you respond after a beat, finality ringing out with your voice as you turn and swiftly proceed toward your intended destination. Dick watches you walk down the block, black miniskirt waving along with your hair as you make a swift turn under a neon sign that glows in pink letters: “C’est La Vie.”

Dick scoops up his beloved dog, turning on his heel and bending down to lovingly chide, “We gotta have a chat about following orders, Hales.”

The dog just whines.

☄. *. ⋆

“Get anything?” Jason questions Dick when he boards the Bebop, Haley cradled in his arms as he kicks off his own leather boots. The older brother nods, tired and hankering for a snack. Haley settles on the rug in front of the clunky TV, salvaged from some horrid Earth tag sale over half a decade ago. 

“Spotted some Red Dragon goons patrolling around downtown.” Dick flexes his muscles and contorts himself into a stretches, groaning at the relief coursing through his aching body. “You got anything?” he asks before flopping down on the deformed excuse they referred to as a couch. 

From his seat in front of an array of computer monitors, Jason Todd, a handful of years younger than Dick, was in tunnel-vision mode as he read through case reports downloaded from ISSP’s poorly encrypted intelligence database. Each case bore the image of Poison Ivy, some criminal scum horticultural biochemist who had blown up several small towns in the Tijuana Asteroid Colony.

Jason takes a sip from his coffee mug before he debriefs Dick.

“Every bomb she set off was detonated at a Cherious Medical plant,” he reports, flipping through his file on her. “Chick’s probaby mad about the shit they dump into the atmosphere, I figure she’s gonna target the company headquarters here.” Dick mulls over the information. Something felt off.

“But why is she with the clan though?” he questions.

“Maybe she needed backup, who knows?” Jason shrugs. “Let’s just focus on nabbing her and calling it a day. Fridge is getting empty and I know Haley wants a can of wet food soon.” 

“Oh, the mutt already ate today,” Dick grumbles before turning his attention toward Haley, whose tail was now thumping rambunctiously on the couch, “Didn’t you, Hales? Didn’t you swindle some hot chick into feeding you? Yes you did! Good girl,” he coos, scratching his beloved baby under her chin. 

“Hot chick, huh?” Jason raises an eyebrow at his brother, knowing how Dick likes to spend his free time, how the sway of a woman’s hips could derail his attention. “No time for chicks. You saw how high the bounty is — this isn’t amateur hour, Richard. Focus.”

Dick just smiles wryly, carelessly flipping Jason the bird before moving to the next topic.

“Have you found out where the clan carries out operations here, now?” he asks his brother, “Saw nothin’ near their old haunts.”

 Jason usually takes care of OPSINT; it was easier to sit at a computer and do research, assembling a plan of attack. He couldn’t risk venturing outside without adorning his red mask, and he only really dared to leave the Bebop when necessary — like when a certain fugitive resurfaces. A certain fugitive who has massive bounties on her head because the ISSP couldn’t possibly marshal its infinite resources to fight crime if their asses depended on it. 

“Several of their usual hangouts have been shuttered, no reports of activity for a few weeks. But a few of our eyes and ears on the streets say they’re encroaching on all gambling territory throughout the city,” Jason answers, scrolling to pull up a map of Alba City and gesturing to Dick to come look at the screen. “All intel triangulates around this area.”

Dick wanders over, eyes widening in recognition when he reads the name of the location Jason highlights.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned,” Dick mutters. Again, more to himself than anyone else.

“C’est La Vie? You familiar with it?” Jason asks. Dick’s usual playful disposition seems to deepen in intensity, sly grin plastered across his face as he states:

“Nope, but I’m sure I’ll see a familiar face.”

☄. *. ⋆

“Check, 1. 2. 3. Check, 1. 2. 3.” Jason’s voice comes through the comms piece in Dick’s ear, “Hello? Dick? Is this thing on? Check, 1. 2. 3.” The sound of Jason’s fidgeting with the buttons on his keyboard and readjusting his hardware. Somewhere in the background, Haley’s yips can be heard, faint and, as always, jovial.

“Alright, cut it out,” Dick hisses, “I can hear you fine.”

They had skipped lunch, both out of financial necessity and because taking the time to essentially kidnap and transport an eco-fascist terrorist required their full, undivided attention. Nevertheless, Dick was still in a grumpy mood, couldn’t help the inexplicable anticipation gurgling in his gut. He lights up an American Spirit, flicking the cap of his Zippo shut and inhaling the nicotine, delicious poison, getting closer and closer to the pink neon lights. C’est La Vie.

“Okay, I have the building blueprint in front of me. Just make sure nothing obscures the camera lens and I can direct you through the building,” Jason instructs. Dick just hums his understanding, blowing out a stream of smoke and looking down to ensure that there was nothing obfuscating the lens embedded in his jacket button, not even a piece of lint. Nifty little thing, he thinks.

“This is kinda cool,” Dick compliments, reasoning that small talk might calm his nerves, “Where do you find this shit?” Another drag, another exhale.

“Dad. Obviously. None of this stuff is on the market,” Jason says impatiently, “Now focus. This place is probably crawling with clan members.”

“Yeah, yeah. Quit nagging. I’m goin’ in,” Dick mutters, pushing through the revolving doors of C’est La Vie, an upscale pool hall with a swanky, circular bar platformed right in the center of the room. Toward the back, a jazz band lulled the patrons into a blissful reverie. Cheeks blushed and martini glasses clinked as men desperately tried to woo women with their pool skills. Two guys near the bar were laser focused on the one remaining black and white 8 ball in the center of the green, having placed a substantial amount of money on the game. Golden chandelier light ricocheted off at every angle, reflected in the floor to ceiling mirrors on every wall except the one behind the stage. Dick spots several obvious security cameras, lingering so Jason could see what he saw.

In an effort to blend in, Dick makes his way to one of the high stools, catching the eye of the bartender and giving him a nod. Gruff, if not a bit oafish, the bartender looks absolutely incongruent with his environment as he grunts his acknowledgement,

“What can I get you?” Dick just smiles, unaffected.

“Gin and tonic, please,” he says smoothly, naming the first drink that came to mind.

“What are you, an old Southern woman?” Jason’s voice crackles through comms, “Order a manlier beer next time.” Dick waits for the bartender to turn around before he spits out as quiet as possible, “Shut up. I’m going into the basement.”

He had spotted a trick door, down a hallway bathroom, hidden to most passersby, whose senses were too dulled by the cocktails and haze of lust permeating through the pool hall to actually notice the seven foot door camouflaged as part of the mirrored wall. He wasn’t too sure until a goon who resembled Bartender Oaf here, suspiciously looking over his own shoulder to make sure no one was watching, pushed the rectangular mirror-door and disappeared underground, head swallowed by the darkness.

“Not yet. Give a walkthrough of the room so I can make sure you’re not missing anything,” Jason directs.

“Roger.” Dick schools his face back into one of friendly, unprovocative politeness as he spots the bartender returning.

“Gin and tonic,” he grunts, unceremoniously placing the drink in front of Dick, no napkin to keep the clank of glass on the marble surface. “Cash or card?”

“Cash,” Dick responds, raising an eyebrow.

“Guy’s a little out of place, huh? Thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” crackles through his earpiece. He waits for the bartender to make his rounds to the other end of the bar before he responds,

“Reckon he’s got a dragon tattoo on under all the ￦cDonald’s filet-o-fish sauce?” Jason gives a hearty chuckle, before inserting his own roast.

“Red Dragon’s lost its touch since I left, huh? These guys look like they wouldn’t last 2 seconds in hand-to-hand combat.” 

“Don’t need to know how to fight like a man if you got a gun on ya,” Dick whispers, throwing a couple thousand Woolong on the table for his drink.

“Please, that guy has no idea how to aim a gun. I’d bet money on it,” Jason jokes as he types a few things into the computer, “Now focus, Richard.” Clicking and clacking away before dictating his next set of instructions to Dick:

“I sent in a surveillance drone through the HVAC system fifteen minutes ago and it looks like there are four guys, probably armed, guarding a vault in the basement.” Some more clickety-clacking, before Jason’s voice takes a more concerned tone, “I don’t know where the vault entrance is though, it’s not in the official city blueprint for the building.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for the vault.” Dick picks up his glass, pretending to be immersed in the jazz musicians or the various games being played as he makes his way around the floor. Every once in a while he makes a show of sipping his drink before disappearing behind a corner to dump a few sips into a potted plant. Nothing out of the ordinary, Dick notes.

Pretty women and men in suits enjoying a night out in a city built on one of the wealthiest planets in the solar system. Dick had been born and raised on Mars, silver spoon thrust in between his little baby teeth after Bruce had rescued him from Haly’s Circus. His parents had apparently been performers, prostituted out as court jesters of the rich on Mars by a man only known as the Joker. Both had been murdered by a man named Slade Wilson in his feud with the Joker. 

He missed Mars, and cherished the missions that brought him back here. It was home.

“You can start making your way to the basement now,” Jason’s command breaks Dick out of his nostalgia. He clears his throat, pulling at the too-tight collar of his shirt before making his way toward the basement entrance. “One foot in front of the other, Grayson. Not too fast. Don’t look too eager.”

“Hey, Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“I know what I’m doin’,” Dick states matter-of-factly. 

“Right, I’ll shut up now.”

Usually, Jason was so aloof Dick had to pull his fuckin’ teeth out to get him talking. But today, the anxiety in his voice put Dick on edge, a feeling quite foreign to him. To soothe his kid brother, though they both were in their middling twenties, he attempts to inject a mood booster into the conversation,

“How hard can this be, huh? It’s just ￦3,000,000, no big deal,” he chuckles, albeit nervously. “Besides, we hold the record for the highest bounty won this decade. Relax, man.” He keeps walking toward the door, looking both ways before pushing through the mirror-door smoothly. No one batted an eyelash, even the supposed goons managing the floor.

“We hold the record for the highest bounty but it was ￦2,500,000 and we had to spend it all on Bebop repairs because SOMEONE wanted to play chicken with a fuckin’ MILITARY SPACECRAFT IN TIJUANA.”

Dick flinches at the volume, half a mind to rip the comms piece out of his ear.

“Geez, one time and I said I was sorry!” he whisper-yells, “Now shut up. I need to focus.” Jason just huffs in the mic, angrily clicking and typing but offering no response.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The piercing clear jazz became increasingly muffled the further Dick descended underground, punctuated by the creak of the wooden stairs. By the time the music was nothing more than a faint memory, Dick had made it down a dark hall, shivering even under his leather jacket, the smell of damp and mold assaulting his nose.

“Is something off to you?” Dick asks Jason, “I didn’t hallucinate that clan lookin’ dude come down here?” His voice rings out through the eerie quiet of the basement hall, lit every ten feet or so by a flickering sconce in desperate need of a new bulb.

“No, I saw him, too. It’s too quiet,” Dick can hear the scroll of his mouse as Jason zooms in on a screen. “Keep going, there’s another exit on the North wall. Leads to the back of the building and right out onto a side street.”

“Roger,” Dick affirms. “They have to be around here somewhere,” he muses quietly as he pulls out his Beretta, turning off the safety. No finger on the trigger, though. Not yet. A few rats behind him, feet clapping against the paved ground and forcing the hair on the back of Dick’s neck to stand up. Still, he keeps moving.

Up ahead, Dick could start to make out a few moans of pain, like a wounded animal. A feeble “help” rasped out in a breathless whisper. Dick followed the noise The closer he came to the source, the more clear the sound of a fist colliding with flesh, over and over and over again intermingled, then drowned out the cries for help.

Three men lay on the ground in front of a vault entrance, at least eight feet in height and wide fuckin’ open. The men on the ground right outside of the vault were either dead or about to be, sprayed with bullets from what looks like an automatic. Dick cocks his gun, alert and ready, taking care to step over the corpses before stepping inside the vault. Whoever was getting beaten to a pulp in there was holding on for dear life.

“Those are three of the four guys the drone caught on tape earlier. Fourth one has to be in there.”

Pointing his gun toward the entrance of the vault, Dick makes his way through a second door into a deeper chamber.

He almost drops his gun at the site in front of him. Almost.

☄. *. ⋆

In the middle of the fuckin’ room, which couldn’t have been bigger than a public bathroom, a big, burly man not like the oaf bartending upstairs was getting his ass handed to him by the pretty girl who had given Haley her lunch earlier today.

“Uh, Dick? What the fuck is going on?” Jason calls through the earpiece. Dick doesn’t answer, unable to tear his eyes away from the situation in front of him.

“One more time, babe,” you simper, “Maybe it’ll get through your thick fuckin’ skull.”

Dick watches you wind your fist back, admiring your form and recognizing your moves as ones honed by years of expert training. Military? ISSP?, he thinks to himself.

“WHERE,” Punch, “IS,” Punch, “SHE?!” Roundhouse kick. Dick almost cringes in on himself when he hears the crack of the guy’s jaw, your powerful kick coming out of nowhere and taking both men in the room by surprise.

You had ripped the guy’s jacket off, exposing his Red Dragon tattoo etched over his heart, adding color to the various smatterings of bruises you had littered across his face and torso. Poor guy is spitting out another tooth into a pool of blood at your feet, daring to challenge you.

“You’ll never get her,” he bares his teeth at you, simultaneously cowering and trying to crawl away from you. “Crazy bitch,” he pants out, attempting his damned hardest to heave his sack farther away as you pull out a 45mm, cocking it in his face. 

“You wanna say that again?” you taunt, venom thick on your tongue as your pistol whip the guy once more, enjoying the crunch of the magazine colliding with his cheekbone. The clan goon slumps to the ground, groaning and whimpering for his mother.

Now was probably a good time to intervene, Dick reasons.

“Oof, now that looks like it hurts,” he calls out, amused. “You got quite the punch on ya, don’t you darlin’?”

You whip around, gun now cocked and pointed at his chest. He noticed your finger on the trigger and your chest heavy. Out of shock, or panic, he couldn’t tell.

“Dick. What is going on? Who is this?” Jason’s starting to panic too. He could hear it.

“Oh, gonna shoot me already?” Dick feigns a heartbroken expression on his face, “I thought we could be friends, ya know.” You don’t lower your gun. “Since you were kind enough to feed my dog and everything,” he adds, a bit awkward.

You look down at your victim and back up at Dick so quickly he would’ve missed it had he been blinking. Dragon goon looks like he won’t be getting up any time soon, what with the broken appendages and swollen eye the color of puce. So you keep your pistol trained on this strange man in front of you, suspiciously eyeing him up and down. His combat boots were scuffed, leather jacket hiding a muscular, svelte build. You notice that his torso was too bulky for there not to be a gun holster under there and you kick yourself for not noticing this earlier when you were feeding that three-legged dog.

“Hello? Dick? What the fuck is goin’ on, man? You’re too far underground for the visual to transmit clearly.”

“Who are you? Why are you following me?” you demanded, no trace of fear or cowardice in your tone. Your frown deepens when he scoffs at your inquisition.

“Following you? Don’t flatter yourself, princess,” Dick smoothly rolls your tone off of his back, opting for a nonchalant smile. Dick prided himself in his ability to schmooze himself out of any sticky situation. “Now what’ve we got here?”

He makes a show of surrendering his weapon, situating his gun back into its holster, where he liked it best. Dick preferred hand-to-hand combat, rationalizing it as the most honorable way to engage in a one-to-one fight. Man to man. Or in this case, man to woman.

“Richard. Grayson. What the FUCK is going on? Did you just put away your weapon?” Dick could picture the vein popping out of Jason’s forehead with the effort it was taking him not to explode in fury.

Unfortunately for Dick, you only tighten your grip on your gun, snarling at him.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who are you?” you demanded quietly. Deadly.

“Just another bounty hunter,” Dick offers, voice all friendly and non-threatening, shrugging in your direction, “like you, I assume?” You don’t answer him, instead turning over all of your possible options in your head. He takes your silence as a concession. This lunkhead (albeit hunky, you concede that) was getting real close to meeting his grave, you thought.

“Not that I regularly come into contact with bounty hunters who are also pretty girls,” Dick muses aloud, eyes twinkling with mirth at the blush creeping across your face. Your eyebrows go up, but the frown remains. Ok, tough crowd, he thinks.

“This isn’t a joke, Grayson. What is going on? Can you find Poison Ivy or am I gonna have to come out there myself?” Dick decides now is the appropriate time to assuage his brother’s anxiety.

“I’m fine, Jason,” he says out loud, “Everything’s under control.” A huge sigh of relief crunches through Dick’s earpiece. 

“Then answer me next time, asshole.”

Your freaked-out shriek rings as Jason finishes his sentence.

“Who’s Jason? How many people are down here with you?” You start eyeing the vault entrance with panic, though never unsteady enough to let the gun in your waver from your intended target. 

“Relax, princess,” the stranger drones on, pointing to the comms piece in his ear. “It’s just my teammate,” he pulls at the wire to show you he was telling the truth. You look at it, relief flooding you. Still, you don’t lower your weapon.

“My name’s Dick. My partner’s name is Jason. We’re bounty hunters,” Dick makes sure to flash his million dollar smile, pearly whites with just the right, charming amount of crooked. You can’t help but think that he’s handsome. Pretty, even. You don’t answer. Your gun stays pointed at his chest.

“What’s your name?” he asks, after another awkward beat.

“My name doesn’t matter to you. You can leave, and we can forget this ever happened,” you retort, annoyed at the delay. You should’ve been hot on Poison Ivy’s tail by now, getting ready to take her into Bruce for your bounty reward. Your annoyance deepens by leaps and bounds at the next few words the handsome stranger throws at you.

“See, can’t do that now, can I, sweetheart?” He poses it like a question. Like a question he knew he wouldn’t get an answer to. “Seems like we might be lookin’ for the same thing, actually,” he suggests, leisurely approaching you while nodding at the couple of men you had to drop by the entrance to the vault.

“Back off,” you warn, seething at the thought of losing the bounty reward to this pretty boy over here, “She’s mine.”

“Yeah?” Dick looks amused, smugly so, “You and what army? Didn’t you know the bounty is in the millions?”

“So what?” you rebuke, indignant attitude and impatience lacing through with the usual venom of your tone.

“So what? So, princess,” he teases, “You’re gonna need a whole lot more than that little pistol if you’re gonna force a violent eco-terrorist all the way to ISSP Headquarters all by your lonesome. I wouldn’t bet money —” You cut him off with an ultimatum. 

“Okay, pretty boy, enough blabbering. Either get the fuck out or I paint these walls with your brains.” Your index is right on the trigger, thumb on the hammer of the pistol, and Dick nearly gulps when he sees it.

All of a sudden, in a flurry of shouting and sudden movements, Dick screams, “Watch out!” The goon by your feet had attempted to lunge at you when your attention was occupied by this interloper. A fools’ errand you thought, quickly recovering from the surprise,

“Bad move, bucko,” you declare with confidence before pulling the trigger of your gun, aimed at his last working appendage. The Red Dragon henchman doubles over at the bullet you put through his thigh, directly where his femoral is located.

In the seconds it takes for the altercation between you and your unfortunate opponent, it takes Dick even less time to get to you, pulling his own gun and taking advantage of the distraction created by the henchman to gain the upper hand. Henchman was going to die now anyway, so Dick trains his Beretta on you, no longer dumb enough to let your pretty face trick him into thinking you were just another harmless chick to ogle at.

You look up at Dick from your position on the ground, chest heaving from the adrenaline. Lips parted in panic as you scramble to train your gun back on him. Dick smirks, waggling an eyebrow to dare you to make the first move.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, attempting to keep the concern from seeping into his question.

“F-fine.” It was unconvincing, you knew that.

All of a sudden, both of you were taken by surprise as gunshots started firing upstairs, several shots a second. Bar patrons started screaming, mixing with the sounds of glass shattering and people scamering toward the exit, footsteps stomping on the ground above you and Dick in panic. You two look at each other, mirroring the panic you heard upstairs.

“We’ve got a situation up here. I have a live feed from the ground floor and it looks like some Red Dragon are down headed your way,” Jason’s voice crunched through the static once more, urgent and focused. “There’s too many of them, Dick. Locate that exit. Now.”

Dick tenses, uttering a terse “On it,” in acknowledgement to his brother. He turns his attention to you.

“Do you wanna make it outta here alive?” Dick asks you, solemn and impatient. No longer the easy-going flirt he was two minutes ago. Your eyebrows just scrunch in response, but your grip on the magazine loosens just the tiniest bit.

“Are you kidding me, Grayson!? We need to have a talk about you always thinkin’ with your dick when we’re on an active hunt.” Jason thinks about what he just said, adding “No pun intended.”

“What are you talking about?” you demand, “Who’s on their way here?” You raise your weapon, pointing it directly at Dick’s head.

“No time,” he responds, turning around and making his way out of the vault, so casual and with so much confidence in the belief that you wouldn’t pull the trigger . Dick stops at the door of the vault, not hearing the sounds of your footsteps following him. 

“You comin’?” He turns off the safety on his Beretta. You notice that his finger is on the trigger now, unlike when he had it pointed at you. 

It was a decisive moment that was so incongruent with your character; a choice that, to this day, you can’t explain. You followed a complete stranger, blindly pinning your hopes of avoiding gunfire on someone who was, by all accounts known to you, quite the negligent pet owner.

☄. *. ⋆

The two of you end up in front of the only other door in the basement.

“This has to be the exit, right?” Dick supposes. He pushes the handle, but the wood doesn’t give.

“How should I know?” you volley back, still unable to let go of your snark.

“How should I know?” Dick mocks your girlish voice, laying on the falsetto. He pivots — “Jason, what’s going on outside?” he says into his comms piece.

“No clue. Let me send the drone out,” Jason answers, pausing to add, “Alba City Police crafts are on their way though. You might wanna make yourself scarce in the next ten minutes and head back to the Bebop.” Dick pictures his little  brother at his computer with a map of active police vehicles in front of him, tracking the little red dots making their way across the screen. He takes a few more cracks at the door, ramming his large frame into the door.

You watch this sad display of chivalry for a few seconds before shoving him aside, surprisingly forceful for a girl your size.

“Get out of the way, Jesus Christ,” you huff, pulling your gun out. One, two, three clicks of the trigger and the lock stutters loose, destroyed beyond recognition.

“Are you crazy?! Way to give away our location!” Dick yells, about to lose his mind.

“Put your eyes back in their sockets, pretty boy,” you reply, sardonic and slightly annoyed that he wasn’t grateful, “Better than watching you shatter your little muscles, don’t you think?”

Dick just kind sputters at you, put out. Without a witty rebuke, he just mutters indignantly under his breath,

“They’re not little.” He looks down at his biceps, as if to confirm his assertion. You just giggle as you make your way out into the dark alleyway. As Dick follows you through the door, a few faint sirens form a chorus — probably less than two miles away now, he surmises by the volume. Overtaking you, Dick is quick on his feet as he leads the two of you down the alley way toward the only exit.

By the time you reach the street, a green car screeches to a halt in front of you, almost knocking you off of your feet.

“Watch where you’re going, moron!” you screech back, waving your fist at the driver, who just ignores you. The door of the backseat snaps open and a rather voluptuous woman emerges, ginger hair lit aflame by the setting sun. Her skin, tinged with chlorophyll and bespeckled with thorns, was weirdly beautiful, you thought to yourself. 

Immediately, both you and Dick had your guns trained on the woman, whom you recognize as Dr. Pamela Isley — the woman you’d been actively hunting for months now.

“Well, well, well,” Dr. Isley practically purrs, “We meet again, Dick Grayson.” She sends a flirty smile, imbued with bad intentions and toxicity, at the man standing next to you. You can’t help the look of disgust that crosses your face when you think about the two of them together.

“Dr. Isley,” Dick responds cordially, “Or is it Poison Ivy now? Impressive bounty on your head this time, huh?” His finger flexes on the trigger.

“Oh, you know how the media are,” she simpers, “Always looking for a snazzy name to keep the attention of you and your knitwit band of bounty hunters.” She’s unfazed as she takes a few steps toward you, clad head to toe in a green catsuit that does nothing to hide her curves. She looks you up and down, “Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Dick.” The false smile she throws you is so sweet you feel your teeth wanting to rot out of their sockets.

“Don’t take another step,” you raise your gun, tightening your control of the weapon in your hand and readying your next shot, “Not if you don’t want a bullet in your brain.” That wipes the smile off of her face.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” she grumbles toward you, stopping just a few feet in front of you and pulling two guns from behind her before pointing them each at you and Dick. Fuck, you start to panic. You sneak a glance over at Dick, who seems to be completely calm with a neutral expression on his face.

“Now,” the ginger takes a more assertive tone, “Lower your weapons, let me through, and no one gets hurt.” 

A few beats pass, though it feels like an eternity to you, before Dick slowly lowers his weapon. Great, an idiot who can’t call a bluff, you thought to yourself. 

“Good boy,” Dr. Isley says happily, then turns to you. “Your turn.”

“Put the gun down NOW and I blow a hole in your handsome boyfriend, here, honey,” she commands more authoritatively when you don’t make any move toward following her orders.

  “Listen to her,” Dick hisses at you, both of his palms up in surrender. You ignore them both, thinking through your possible routes of escape. Dr. Isley takes this time to address Dick, determined to grate on your nerves.

“Your girl here doesn’t seem to have working ears, Grayson,” she spits, now training both of her guns right at you.

Another few beats pass before Dr. Isley takes you both by surprise, screaming:

“NOW!”

Suddenly, a puff of what you assumed to be neon green glitter fills your vision and lungs when you exhale. A burning sensation starts scalding your head, your throat, your lungs. It was like your balance started to seep out of your body. That pulling in the deep pits of your stomach starts yanking, causing your knees to wobble and your vision to blur. Pretty streaks of green blur in front you and a faint shout of “No! Stay with me!” rings in your ears. You’re vaguely aware of a warm hand cradling your cheek as a black abyss overwhelms your senses, your grip on consciousness seeping out of you just like your balance. The last thing you’re cognizant of is your head about to hit the pavement, skull buffered by a large, warm hand before it could really hit the ground.

.⋆⭒˚.⋆☾ .🪐˖☽⋆⭒˚.⋆

[manias-wordcount]

i know its weird... but reader in a spike and vicious love triangle. please i need this lysm <3

Sharing is Caring (Spike Spiegel x Reader x Vicious)

𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝘂𝗹𝗶𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼. 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀. 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁/𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀. 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗼

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @skylardarling @sachimz @roronoaism @itzmymelody @myfangirlfanfiction @24hour-xixi

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Round, old, brown leather seats that stink of smoke and made sticky with your sweat and a little something else you think the workers forgot to clear before you, the new patron, took over this spot. The sound of a small live band playing light jazz over the bustle of conversations. A table full of empty shot glasses, a half-drunken Old Fashioned, and a well-used ash try. And, of course, Fearless’ Jericho, placed right where he can reach it in case something went wrong.

There was a part of you that always knew that you weren’t getting yourself in the best situation.

Everyone told you to stay away from the Underbelly of Mars. But that didn’t happen. Everyone told you to stay away from the Red Dragon Syndicate. But that didn’t happen either. But most of all, everyone told you not to get involved with brothers. Especially not those brothers. But to that, you say it’s not your fault for not really heeding that warning. Because they’re not really brothers, even though they say they are. So it doesn’t count, right? Right?

Who knows. And honestly, it’s far too late for you to care about specifics and technicalities. Because you’re already wrapped up in their little web. With no chance of running.

“Fearless-! Fearless not here!”

And no chance of hiding either.

“Mmm…” You feel the man in question hum against your skin, but he doesn’t bother taking his head away from your neck long enough to give you a proper reply. He just keeps on kissing your skin- kissing over the marks he just made with a tenderness you didn’t think the guy was capable of when you first met him. But he has a soft spot for you. They both do. “Just a little more, sweetheart. You know Vicious gets to have you to himself when he comes over here.”

At the mention of his partner, you let out a small whine. A whine that Fearless drinks up with a small chuckle of his own as he softly promises you that he’ll make sure the other man won’t go overboard tonight. You nod weakly at him, your mind is still buzzing with all the drinks they poured down your throat. But you’re still in enough control to feel embarrassed about what’s happening and the thought of people seeing. And, of course, the thought of things escalating once you become outnumbered.

In all fairness, this is far from the worst position one of the boys has put you in public. Because at the moment, there are no hands up your dress (yet) or tongues down your throat (yet). And nobody is currently whispering in your about the twenty-four-hour hotel they want to take you to just down the street once they’re done with the job they’re supposed to get done here (again, yet). 

In fact, right now, you can even consider yourself lucky that Fearless hasn’t begged you to start sitting on his lap before Vicious comes back. He knows you can hardly say no to those eyes of his. And he knows that Vicious is more than fine with such an arrangement. Because it allows Vicious to do exactly what he wants to do to you while taking advantage of the fact that he has his partner around to keep you from squirming a little too much for his liking.

Oh well. That’s what you get for choosing to entertain the affection of men who consider themselves brothers. That’s what you get for choosing not to decide between the two of them and asking if they could share. That’s exactly what you get.

If your old friends and family were to see you now, you don’t know what they would think. But you know they would have never pictured you in a booth tucked away in a seedy bar in a dress that can only be described as too short. Moaning helplessly as one of your lovers locks his arms around your waist and presses you close to his side so he can paint your neck with more hickies than you can count. All while you wait for your second lover to finish doing who knows what the one of the club’s backrooms.

And speaking of your second lover…

“Fearless,” Comes the sound of a gruff voice suddenly calling out the alias of the man currently attached to your side from just a few feet away. You recognize the voice instantly and find yourself sliding your eyes over to where the sound came from just in time to see and feel Vicious sliding into the booth on the opposite side of you, looking no worse for wear. Immediately, there’s a new arm snaking itself around your waist. One that’s a little more possessive than the ones belonging to their partner. One that physically tugs you away from the other man and into the newcomer’s side as his fingers come up to brush against the fabric of your dress that covers the underside of your chest. Teasing for both him and yourself that there’s more to come.

And despite the desperation he was showing earlier, Fearless ultimately relents and lets you go easily. No sly comment. No knowing look. Not even annoyed huff. Instead, he just backs off and reaches for the drink he started to neglect when the moment he realizes Vicious was the two of you alone for a long enough period for him to do some damage and takes a long sip, the leather seats of the booth creaking beneath him. Looking as calm and cool and collected as ever, except for the wrinkles in his dark suit and the even more messy look his hair has taken on. 

“Careful with her tonight, Vicious” You hear him murmur, a small smirk tugging at his lips once he finishes his drink. He puts it back down on the table with a small clink of the glass and meets your eye with a quick wink. “If you keep being too rough with her, she’ll be forced to pick a favorite. And we all know who she’d choose if it came down to it.”

His words come with a teasing lilt to them and a light laugh that you can just almost hear, even when it’s nowhere to be found. Fearless’ challenges always sound like that. They always feel like talking. Like all bark and no bite. But as you hold his gaze for a little longer, you can’t help but wonder if there’s a little something more behind that complicated gaze of his. You know he would never tell it to you straight. He and Vicious like to keep you and your “pretty little head” away from all their dirty business when they can help it. But this doesn’t feel like business. This feels like something you’re intrinsically involved with. And you’re not exactly sure how much you like the sound of that. Perhaps this is why people told you not to get involved with your brother. Especially these two.

Luckily, there’s a demanding little someone pressed into your side at the moment, reading to take your mind off of everyone and everything else but him.

“I’ll do what I want,” Vicious spits back at Fearless’ so-called challenge, before taking the arm he has wrapped around your torso and using it to grab your chin and turn your head in his direction. Immediately, your eyes are ripped away from Fearless’ soft brown-eyed stare to come face to face with Vcious’ hardened stare- half hidden behind his unkept, pale hair. And you can’t help but feel just a teensy, little bit scared. Because the soft spot Vicious has for you isn’t always as obvious as the one Fearless has for you. And because a soft spot, doesn’t inherently mean he’s going to be gentle. “Remember…she’s mine too.”

It just means you’ll always be his in ways that hopefully won’t hurt too badly.

And you find yourself riding on that hope the second Vicious draws you in for a deep, forceful kiss. It’s hard and controlling just a hint of need- like whatever he disappeared to do less than ten minutes ago wently badly enough for him to start feeling like he was missing you. Like he needed to claim you for himself again, even in front of his own partner. Even in front of the man he agreed to share you with all those months ago. 

Now, the grip he now has on your jaw is almost enough to be bruising. And the harshness of the kiss was enough to get you to squeak out in surprise before you were even able to squeeze your eyes close and follow his lead. Because there’s not much for you to say or do or even go when he’s pressing you against the back of the booth and tugging at your bottom lip with teeth that always bit a little too hard for you to keep yourself from being a little noisy. There’s not much for you to do except to be kissed and kissed and kissed so hard you start to feel dizzy as Vicious steals every last gulp of air you have left in your lungs.

But even though all of that, you still hear it. 

You still hear the soft, easygoing sound of Fearless’ casual “Of course,” in response to his partner’s words and actions. But as always, there’s a hint of something more there. Something that feels sharp and piercing, like a bullet from the gun still on the table. Something that reminds you that the men you’re dealing with now never go down without a fight. No matter what.

So the more you think about it, the more you realize that you should have heeded that advice. You should have been more careful. You shouldn’t have made such risky decisions. You should have stayed away from Mars’ Underbelly. You should have stayed away from the Red Dragon Syndicate. And most of all? You should have never gotten involved with them. You should have never gotten involved with men who called each other brother. Because you knew things were going to be complicated. Because you know no one could share forever. And because you don’t think that either of them will ever let you go. 

Not now. Not ever. And certainly, not without a fight.

[clandestineivory]

This request is going to be a little different from the others so if you don't want to do it you can delete this.

Can I request a ancient mafia boss AU Headcanon? and if you want can you make it the top one the least dangerous and the bottom being the most dangerous type of mafia boss.

Mafia Boss AU: The Ancients

Summary: The Five mafia bosses have chosen to disclose very personal details about themself. All of them are documented and stored in five separate case files. Well, shall we read them together?

TW: Murder ✨, Poison, Blackmailing, and some other stuff. If you can handle the stuff above, you can certainly handle the rest of it <3

I HAVE NEVER DONE STUFF LIKE THIS BEFORE. BE WARNED 😭

File #1: The Sky Syndicate

Boss: Pure Vanilla

Going by the nickname “Pure Vanilla”, or “P.V.”

He’s known to be very social and surprisingly kind, even to the point of being called naive for a mafia boss.

However, much is going on behind those eyes. His mechanical staff almost looks…alive, in a way, blinking and glancing around. As if looking for a traitor in its midst.

Despite his kindness, Pure Vanilla is known to be quite intelligent, and his truth can be quite harsh. Especially to those who declare that they’re his enemy.

The look of shock on someone’s face when Pure Vanilla comes face to face with them, smiling all giddy and joyful as he lists down everything that they’ve done to betray the syndicate is…exhilarating to him.

And how does he deal with them? Well, by forcing the traitor into a bright, almost blinding room and sending in his subordinate, Strawberry Crepe to…disassemble them.

File #2: Silent Petal Society

Boss: White Lily

They’re a very secretive organization, known for its eagerness to test out the resilience of their members and how their minds work.

White Lily, known to be distant yet intelligent and kind to her subordinates is quite brutal to her enemies, attacking them with no mercy. Just ask a certain jester-looking freak about what she did to him and you’ll get your answer.

She deals with sciences and often sends her members out to smuggle more information and items for the sake of research.

She may have some other side to her, as she was sometimes reported to be cackling her heart out in a room with a bright red hue…but that was just normal, wasn’t it?

File #3: Scarlet Nexus

Boss: Hollyberry

This group is known for its brute strength and love for alcohol. In fact, their group mostly focuses on smuggling said items to their headquarters, where their boss Hollyberry is.

She’s the only one who uses her name, while the rest go by their nicknames. She personally thinks that it’s a power move and that her strength outweighs their intelligence in multiple ways. She didn’t specify how though.

Her group is much more out in the open, but who could really stop such powerful yet swift people? Most, if not all of them are loud and boisterous, both confident in their ability to evade the police and strong enough to fight them if ever caught.

Hollyberry is even in a sort of alliance with a Dragon �� one of the five most powerful members in a terrorist organization.

File #4: The Black Citadel

Boss: Dark Cacao

Pussy

Dark Cacao is the most secure and secretive of the bunch. His headquarters is somewhere up in a mountain, yet nobody really knows where. He has his own business by fortifying his borders with technology to make sure nobody goes in, and very few come out.

He may be the most strongest, but he doesn’t plan to show it anytime soon. Otherwise there would be a bit of a bloodbath happening sooner or later.

His three executives, going by the nicknames Affogato, Caramel Arrow, and Crunchy Chip are different in their own ways.

Affogato deals with finding traitors on the inside and creating more poisons and psychological weapons against any enemies who dare wish to harm the boss. In fact, he may be the closest to Dark Cacao for some reason…perhaps he has other goals?

Crunchy Chip works as a guard with his group, known for controlling and training many dangerous wolves. Not much else is known. Perhaps later these files may be updated.

Caramel Arrow leads a group called the Watchers. They’re known for scouting out their enemies. They also work to help trade in materials and weapons. She’s quite loyal to Dark Cacao, even though she was close to getting demoted and eliminated due to a certain meddling of another executive…

File #5: The Golden Circuit

Boss: Golden Cheese

She’s very flamboyant and tech-savvy, and so is her group. They’re well-known and very popular among criminal organizations of all kind.

Golden Cheese loves glittering gold, sending out her subordinates to get any jewelry that gleams and shimmers like her oh-so precious gold.

The Golden Circuit specializes in high-tech surveillance systems and technological innovation, especially with weapons. This group knows everything and everyone that even speaks to one of their members.

So yes, they are known to blackmail quite often.

And any enemies don’t stand a chance due to Golden Cheese being active in her job as a boss, even killing tens of people with some of her high-tech golden spears, able to track any source of heat and follow it.

All of her subordinates are light on their feet, and some even use mechanical wings like hers to fly around so quietly.

She’s probably the one who designed Pure Vanilla’s mechanical eye staff anyways…

GUYS PLEASE I DONT KNOW WHAT I DID

PLEASE DON’T JUDGE ME 😭

[m0dernchr0n1cles]

Rewriting DC Monkey Prince & Nezha: Fixing the lore

Now, I am going to "fix" the lore of Monkey Prince, and here is where you can criticize me

Credit to @journeytothewestresearch, @sonicasura, @ryin-silverfish

Gene Luen Yang is obviously a fan of Sun Wukong (read American Born Chinese), but he didn't understand the more obscure parts of Journey to the West.

It really did seem like he was writing based on what vague memories he got from watching Journey to the West 1986 (great adaptation) as a child, and didn't doing any more research.

The circlet was a torture device, a restraining bolt to keep Sun Wukong from doing terrible things. It should not be used to help Marcus "practice focus".

Zhu Bajie as a mentor is a weird choice, but it could've worked if it was handled properly (look at Black Myth: Wukong). Instead, we get a blank-slate blob trying to play Uncle Iroh to Yang's self-insert.

The Gold and Silver Demons were two of Laozi's assistants that were sent to test the pilgrims' mettle, and even then, they weren't rampaging across China. They were fairly affable, respectful and loving towards their mother and uncle, and they were even willing to return the monk when their mother was murdered.

After they were defeated, they were returned to their true forms, apologized, and returned to Heaven.

Red Boy's Batman-esque origin was a giant wasted opportunity, and I feel like Yang forgot he existed after #0 pilot, until someone brought it up, and he was forced to make Red Boy relevant.

Dragons are supposed to be incredibly powerful (especially Ao Guang, the eldest brother and Dragon King of the East Sea). Having them living near Atlantis in "Dragontown" retirement home feels a bit like a downgrade, especially considering that Ao Guang's younger kids, Ao Bing and Longnü, are highly respected (Ao Bing became Star Officer of Huagai, Longnü became a disciple of Guan Yin).

If you want to hear me rant about Nezha, click here and here.

Fixing This in 新神榜：孙太子

There is how I would redo it in my rewrite:

I'm borrowing a lot of lore from the New Gods movies

Bull Demon King and Princess Iron Fan were not killed by Darkseid. Instead, Darkseid tried to kill the Jade Emperor.

After Darkseid attacked the Heavenly Court, the Court was in complete disarray. A council of regents, unofficially led by the Queen Mother of the West, are now in charge. Many internal investigations were done in order to "root out the traitors" (get rid of people they didn't like). Many gods and immortals were kicked out of Heaven or replaced.

Sun Wukong mysteriously disappeared. All that is known was that there was an ordered attack on Flower Fruit Mountain, and a conflict between him and Yang Jian, and that was it. Any witnesses to the aftermath were unable to be reached.

Laozi's lab assistants fell to earth and became the Gold and Sliver Demons again, and they are trying to form a crime family.

Nezha was kicked out, and replaced with Devil Nezha, who was held in place by the Huntian Ling. After Devil Nezha realized how he was nothing but a pawn for the amusement of the Court, he tried to rebel, only to be sealed away.

Nezha's weapons were carefully divided up and hidden away.

Nezha fell to earth, and eventually reincarnated into Li Yunxiang.

Ao Bing fell to earth, and eventually reincarnated (with Ao Guang's intervention) into De Zheng.

The Dragon Clans each became major crime syndicates, establishing their own power base.

De 德家 = East

Li 利家 = South

Shun 顺家 = West

Song 松家 = North

Yang Jian is firmly keeping his hands out of Heaven's nonsense, deciding to kick up his feet and take an extended vacation. He only gets involved when he sees that his old friend's reincarnation is in danger.

Red Boy has been studying under Guan Yin, and is close friends with another disciple, a girl who is strangely hush-hush about her past life.

Seeing the chaos of the Lower Realm, the Heavenly Court tries to reestablish control through more insidious methods.

Zhu Bajie does not become Marcus' "Shifu 师父", instead he is his "Martial Uncle 师叔". He's less of a mentor, more like a cool uncle that gives life advice.

It makes sense since Sun Wukong was Zhu Bajie's "Elder Martial Brother 师兄", and how the master-disciple relationship works is an adoption of sorts, with the master become a "father" and the disciple becoming a "son".

Marcus is left to his own devices a lot of the time, which causes problems, which forces Bajie to be more responsible (so Bajie also gets a bit of a character arc).

Marcus gets to have multiple mentors (Yang Jian, Li Yunxiang, etc). There is a constant argument about whether it is a good thing for Marcus to be a hero, or if they should find a way to seal away his powers so he can live a normal life.

Marcus does not get a circlet. Instead, when he does something stupid, Bajie just whacks him upside the head.

Include more characters from Journey to the West. Specifically the ones that are actual threats (or have connections to other characters)

Here are the ones I'm going to use:

Gold and Silver Horn Demons

Nine-Headed Bug/Demon

Lady Earthflow

Hundred-Eyed Daoist

Yellow Wind Demon

Black Wind Demon

Red Boy

[eliteseven]

Okay so this has nothing to do with your writing at all (I’m sorry 😭) and feel free to ignore this if it’s just too random, but I’m truly so curious what other games besides BG3 you have potentially really loved and enjoyed? Do you have any favorite games of all time?? I’m just so curious about it because I *adore* your writing and I know that obviously the media we consume can influence us and inspire us, so I was just curious what games have perhaps had that kind of impact on you (if any).

Anyways, have a wonderful day!!!! 🤗

Omg no worries, don’t apologize! And thank you so much for reading and being so so kind!! 🥰

I would love to share my faves! 🥹 here are some in no particular order: (other than BG3 ofc!)

-Red Dead Redemption 2 - not a unique opinion by any means, but I think this was a masterpiece. The story is mostly realistic (emotionally speaking anyway), gritty, and incredibly well-written/acted. I am a big Rockstar Games girly because the amount of detail you find and freedom you have in their open worlds is just 🤯 it’s really a cinematic experience and it’s a visual and auditory triumph tbh. And the heavy moral lessons lingering in the background? Is it ever too late to be good and do good? Just 😮‍💨 perfection. This game is elite and idk if there’ll ever be a match for it.

- Mass Effect Trilogy - Commander Shepard is perhaps my fave video game protagonist ever (Jennifer Hale, the woman that you are 🥵). The fact that you get to spend an entire trilogy shaping her arc in a space soap opera/political drama/action flick??? It’s a story about tolerance, greed, technology and evolution, humanity, love….it has really deep writing at times, and it’s probably my fave sci-fi work ever, as well as one of the best gaming experiences I’ve ever had !! It was perfect, to me, despite glaring holes in the writing at times lol. And I don’t have faith in whatever’s coming next from this franchise ☺️

Dragon Age: Basically was always mass effect’s high fantasy equivalent, in my mind, sans the enjoyable process of getting to see the same protagonist again and again- which I didn’t mind! It hit all the high fantasy notes for me, and I really enjoyed the world building and the stories. BUT disclaimer- my opinion regarding the game is unpopular af lol. My personal ranking (best to worst): Inquisition, Origins, 2, and finally Veilguard- which I personally hated and don’t acknowledge as part of the franchise 😅 (just my opinion and I’m very happy for all who found joy in it!!)

-Dishonored 1 & 2: Some of the cleanest, most fluid, and most satisfying gameplay/combat I’ve ever seen. I loooove the mechanics, controls, and the story is dark/the worldbuilding is unique! 2 is extra special because playing as Emily is just 👌 There are limitless ways to execute missions- you could play the entire game unseen!! And the soundtrack is perfect and unsettling. I love this series a lot!! They just have a unique vibe and feel to them.

-Assassin’s Creed-: my relationship to this franchise is wild lol. I started when I was like 10?? I think?? The first one, while repetitive, is great for establishing the lore and introducing the concept. AC 2 and Brotherhood were the reeeally fun ones, IMO. I loved the story and was intrigued! Revelations marks the beginning of the end (for me!!! Not everyone else! Can’t stress this enough lol). The plot running parallel to the assassins just gets so convoluted beyond this point that I lost track and never cared to pick it back up. I played some afterwards: syndicate was meh, unity was meh, didn’t play again till the Greek one- and Kassandra was a wonderful breath of air! But story wise I just…never cared again 😅 take that as you will.

-Cyberpunk 2077-: smooth and fun gameplay (which I heard wasn’t always the case lol), and the story is ambitious as hell. Really neat concepts, relevant criticism of capitalist rot and USA in general, steamy romances, and great VA. If I wanted to write a sci-fi novel (which I eventually do!) I think I’d look to cyberpunk for some cues. It felt really unique and fresh to me!

-Witcher 3-: I’m a fake fan and jumped on the third game bandwagon but it was SO fun and satisfying, no regrets! Story is rich, characters are well acted and deep, and it was instantly likable.

-Skyrim-: I really feel this one is self explanatory lol. I will say that I lean slightly towards RPGs that are fully active/have a VA for the protag, but this is the golden exception, isn’t it? I never played oblivion or any of the others so I am in fact a poser but this was my JAM back in the day lol

-Starfield- Despite the controversy, I did enjoy the game and it opened up so many doors for me in terms of writing and developing an OC within the universe. I liked the characters, the plot, the nods to science, and felt it was a great sandbox for a writer to really play with. It’s as beautiful as you make it.

Honorable mentions: Telltale’s The Walking Dead (far superior to the show imo), Clair Obscur (haven’t made a dent yet but the music and visuals are stunning!!!), L.A. Noire (cool plot and really good soundtrack), GTA V, Unraveled, Until Dawn, Ghost of Tsushima, Detroit, bunch of multiplayer games like CoD, etc.

[euryalex]

Favourite female characters

I was tagged by @elminsters and @timothylawrence to make a poll with my favourite female characters, thank you so much!!

Tried to keep it to one per franchise 😅

Tagging... (and sorry if you've done this before, I'm a bit late)

@mercymaker @vspin @florallychaotic @isobel-thorm @yennefer-of-vengerbergs

@rosenfey @captastra @imogenkol @nicolajpg @firstaidspray

@gallusneve @galedekarios @alexios and anyone else who wants to do this!!

[trashland-llamas]

-> Fic Masterlist <-

[ Post Two // Fandoms D-I ]

DCU

Body Pillow; Jason after returning home from patrol, finds Reader asleep, wrapped around a body pillow [GN]

Budding Romance; A patched together songfic + Jason Todd x Reader + grumpy x sunshine trope if you squint [GN]

Fear Factor; The Teen Titan crew try figuring out y/n's greatest fear when Jason lets it known that they're afraid of moths. Or a fic mostly revolving around Gru shifting into a moth at y/n's expense [GN]

All These Tatties; Author rambles about Jason going to tattoo artist! Reader [GN]

Ginger!?; Reader discovers Jason used to be a redhead after Alfred shows them the family photo albums [GN]

Leakage; Jason who is in the closet when it comes to being trans experiences the misfortune of bleeding through his pants at a gala

Fork in the Road; Reader navigates the subways/trains of Gotham with the Batfam shadowing them [GN]

Pillowy; Jason is enamored by plus size! Reader’s stomach [GN]

Fish Out of Water; the bats take Reader to a fancy restaurant, it doesn't go well [GN]

Neck of the Woods; Reader and Jason go on a mini hike which causes Reader's disability to flare up [GN]

I don't wanna take that step, I just want you to stay; Dick finds out that Reader identifies as loveless aromantic after his attempt to kiss them goes sideways [GN]

Red Marks; Jason sees some angry red marks on Reader's stomach, caused by their pants while they're getting ready for bed and ends up asking about it [GN]

Pollen; Dialogue about Jason getting hit with pollen that makes him overly emotional

Rude Awakening; Reader sneaks into Dick's apartment after not hearing from him for a few days. After almost being hit by a batarang, they stay and the two have breakfast for lunch [GN]

Squib Load; Jason, tired of the dance between Bruce and the Joker, kills his “father”

Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels; Dick convinces Jason, Tim, and Damian to get their nails done with him

Venetia; Reader tries to keep her period on the down low but unfortunately Jason finds out. Or Jason convinces Reader to let him help ease her pains [Fem]

Dressed in White Linen Sheets; Yandere! Reader kills the Joker as a mean of proving their devotion to the man [GN]

Honeydew Honeysuckle; Reader watches Jason sleep and waits for him to wake up [GN]

dreamin' but I should've been with you instead; Reader tries to stay up and keep Damian company while he works on a case. Damian, noticing they're falling asleep, pauses his work and tucks them in [GN]

why’d you have to chase the light somewhere I can’t go; Dick speaks at Jason’s funeral

Death Note

inceL; hcs about incel! L and how he becomes obsessed over Reader [GN]

Demon Slayer

Hanahaki; Nezuko develops Hanahaki and goes to y/n as to ask them to euthanize her [GN]

Disney Movies

hair of gold and a neck of pearls; Tiana catches Nanami dancing in the kitchen. or Nanami was trying to surprise Tiana, but lost track of time

Dream SMP

BBH + reader w/ scoliosis pain headcanons [GN]

Drunkard; Fundy’s 1st time drunk is cause of Schlatt who ends up taking care of him

Fundy + his 1st crush [GN]

How Fundy was affected by malnutrition during/after the L'Manberg era

Sapnap & Karl Jacob x plus sized reader headcanons [GN]

Niki x plus sized reader headcanons [GN]

Draconic; How the Syndicate meet their dragons & each other

Philza + Independent Reader [GN]

Achy Breaky Heart; Reader experiences a breakup. Sequel to Philza + Independent Reader. [GN]

It's Paul McCartney Y/n; Basically I couldn’t tell that this one pic was Paul McCartney until I read the tags on the post; that’s it, that’s the fic but add Ranboo. [GN]

Panda fox hybrid Tommyinnit Headcanons

Take a Seat at my Table; Wilbur’s friends with a food blogger (reader) who always forgets to take pictures of their food when it 1st arrives to the point viewers/followers can tell the food isn’t good whenever they do remember. [GN]

Acanthus; Techno ruminates on the flowers that most remind him of his friends

Apologia Pro Vita Sua; Wilbur returns to the land of the living one summer's night and with it comes the mortal responsibility of self care

I Was a Human; Character study about Jack's resurrection. Or where Puffy is the first person he comes across after digging his way out of hell.

Genshin Impact

Otter Hybrid! Neuvillette [GN]

String of Fate; Neuvillette lets reader braid ribbon into his hair [GN]

Soft’ned the Stones; Reader never learned how to swim and is greatly afraid of open water. Yet all little! Neuvillette wants to do is bathe in the nearby lake. [GN]

Foxtrotted; Y/n writes Yae a poem after not seeing her for so long [GN]

Ghost B.C

Superstitions; What superstitions I think the ghouls believe in

Sodo or Dewdrop?

Hemlock; Someone discovers Mountain’s secret/extra greenhouse full of poisonous plants

Pranks; The ghouls play a prank on Papa Copia

Spit Fire; Headcanons about how the ghouls use their element to prank each other

If Florence was a Ghoul

Gravity Falls

I’m an Art-tise; headcanons about the Pines twins as artists & their art style

Harry Potter [Original series, FBAWTFT, Marauders]

Soft-Spoken; Theseus Scamander + Reader who struggles with compliments [GN]

Eye of the Storm; Theseus Scamander x Veela!Reader [GN]

Blasted Minotaur; Theseus lulls the reader to sleep with the story of Theseus & the Minotaur [GN]

Nobody’s Fault but my Own; Molly finds a letter Percy wrote to Fred after his death

Dear Freddie; the letter mentioned in Nobody's Fault but my Own

Piss Off; Ron x Draco; Draco only knows how to flirt by pissing the other person off

Marauders Headcanons + some Lily & Regulus sprinkled in

Regulus & his Hufflebuddy [GN]

Dysphoria’s a bitch, huh?; Regulus Black helps to protect other trans students at Hogwarts

Belly Scratches; Headcanons around how Padfoot reacts to belly scratches and how the Marauders lean into it

Pack Animals; Remus is one of the lycanthropy specialists that Enid's parents sent her to

Meow?; Regulus discovers Remus' secret and decides to help in his own way by becoming an animagus himself

Grrrr?; Regulus asks out Remus on a date, revealing that he's the black cat shadowing the Marauders. Sequel to Meow?

Succor; Remus renounces his magic until Regulus shows up with a job proposition

Rebel Without a Cause; Sirius, after leaving home is surprised to find his brother on the Knight Express

Breakfast Club; Sequel to Rebel Without a Cause, in which Sirius takes Regulus to the Potters' Residence & convinces him to stay for breakfast

Hermitcraft SMP

Na-Scar; Retired nascar driver! Scar helps train Grian to win a race/bet against Mumbo

[datvtranscripts]

The Smuggled Relic Case Pt. 5

The Relic Buyer

Neve Masterpost

Signs and Portents Masterpost Previous: Templar Rana Savas

They run outside to see a burst of magic that knocks Albin to the ground and summons a bunch of demons.

Rook: We have our relic buyer.

Neve: The Venatori don't need that relic.

Albin Bataris: (Laughs You're here to stop me? You can't stop the Venatori. This power—

Neve: Will what? Impress a "risen god?" Can you even control it?

Albin Bataris: Shut up!

Rana joins them.

Rana: Neve!

Neve: Rana! Here to check on me?

Rana: I wasn't expecting a fight. Or this much of a fight!

Neve: Well, surprise!

The fight continues.

Albin Bataris: The Venatori's power is on the rise. And this part's mine.

Bellara: Neve Gallus will stop you!

Harding: You're not keeping that relic!

Lucanis: You'll die here, Venatori! Neve: I might have questions for him! Lucanis: Ugh. Fine!

More demons join the fray.

Albin Bataris: You won't walk away from here!

Bellara: More demons! If they break away…

Harding: More demons! We can't let them get loose!

Lucanis: They aren't leaving.

Neve: We need to stop them here.

Albin’s health drops lower.

Albin Bataris: You think I won't walk away from this? Our plans don't end here. There's power coming to us!

Rook: Your cult doesn't scare me. And neither do you.

The fight ends, and Albin is knocked to the ground beside the smuggler.

Rana: You won't be releasing any more demons.

Neve: And you're the smuggler. I know you. You're part of the Thread crime syndicate. Smuggling, sure. But red lyrium? Working with Venatori? It's not your style.

The templar Knight-Commander arrives with a magister.

Knight-Commander Lenos: Here they are.

Magister Bataris: My son is no cultist. He was completely misled. We appreciate your help, Knight-Commander. Let's go.

Magister Bataris gestures to leave, and Albin stands, passing Neve as he follows his father away.

Albin Bataris: Nice try. The Venatori rise.

The Knight-Commander turns to Neve.

Neve: You know he's guilty. How much did it cost the magister?

Knight-Commander Lenos: Watch it, Gallus, or you'll be charged—

Neve: With what? I tie something up and you undo it. Isn't this familiar?

Knight-Commander Lenos: Save the sob story. We got the smuggler. Or do you want Bataris to release her too?

He leaves.

Rana: I'll find a way to fix this.

Rana leaves as well.

Neve: (Sighs) Damn it.

Dialogue options:

Affable: We stopped the demons. [1] +Neve Approves

Sarcastic: Not the tour I expected. [2]

Stoic: I don’t believe this. [3]

Angry: People were in real danger. [4]

Shadow Dragon: This is why we’re here. [5] +Neve Approves

1 - Affable: We stopped the demons. Rook: At least we stopped the demons. That's something. Neve: If Dock Town's a little safer… it's not for nothing. Rook: I know it's not perfect… Neve: We got the relic. And the smuggler. The Shadows will watch the cult. If that leads to the gods, they'll send word. It's not perfect, but count your wins. You don't always get them. Especially here. [6]

2 - Sarcastic: Not the tour I expected. Rook: So that's a day in Minrathous? Neve: Like all the rest. Rook: And here I thought we'd say hello to the Shadow Dragons and be on our way. Neve: (Laughs) Someone's a dreamer. We got the relic. And the smuggler. The Shadows will watch the cult. If that leads to the gods, they'll send word. It's not perfect, but count your wins. You don't always get them. Especially here. [6]

3 - Stoic: I don’t believe this. Rook: That's it? Neve: We got the relic. That was the job. Rook: He got away. Neve: I know. (Sighs) I know. Rook: So what now? Neve: We stopped the demons. We got the relic. And the smuggler. The Shadows will watch the cult. If that leads to the gods, they'll send word. It's not perfect, but count your wins. You don't always get them. Especially here. [6]

4 - Angry: People were in real danger. Rook: If we hadn't been there, how many people would be hurt? And Bataris doesn't care. Neve: No. Rook: But you do. Neve: (Laughs) Isn't that the rub? We got the relic. And the smuggler. The Shadows will watch the cult. If that leads to the gods, they'll send word. It's not perfect, but count your wins. You don't always get them. Especially here. [6]

5 - Shadow Dragon: This is why we’re here. Rook: (Weary sigh) People like Bataris… it's why the city needs us. Neve: Yeah. Rook: At least we stopped the literal demons. Neve: We did. And we got the relic and the smuggler. The Shadows will watch the cult. If that leads to the gods, they'll send word. Count your wins, Rook. We both know they don't come easy. [6]

6 - Scene continues.

The scene fades, and one of Varric’s narratives cuts in.

Varric: It wasn't a perfect ending, but Dock Town was safe. From tonight's demons, anyway. Neve's past was coming back to haunt her. She just didn't know it yet.

Next: Sea of Blood Next: Shadows of Minrathous

[heartinhands]

brief details for a spike dmc verse i've been meaning to write so i can do more w it (but it pretty much just is the same as the overarching plot cowboy bebop has it's just edited a bit to make things and places fit into dmc).

worked for a yakuza-esque group called the red dragon crime syndicate, shocker. one branch of the syndicate specialized in devil hunting and extorting people in exchange for promising people 'protection' from devils. of course this is the branch of the syndicate spike will work for alongside vicious and julia and they're all pretty good at their jobs.

at some point spike tries to leave with julia but stuff goes down the same as it does in cowboy bebop blah blah she never shows up he gets ambushed, fakes his death, etc.

after surviving he teams up with jet who is working as a devil hunter on his own and they operate out of the bebop which is basically like dmc's mobile branch that nero and nico operate from although instead of it being a van it's a whole RV motorhome (just to try and accommodate the fact that the bebop in-universe is a pretty huge ship). spike has a red motorcycle that he keeps on the back of the trailer--this is this verse's version of the swordfish II.

that's basically it i'll edit this if i think of things that need to be established more but i think it's a pretty easy 1 to 1 so i don't think it'll need much more kjdsflkds

don't have anything in mind for him ever having crossed paths with any of the actual dmc cast although i'm sure he's heard of dante. maybe jet and spike have teamed up with lady once and think she's fucking crazy i think that'd be funny

[parfait4bunny]

(Evolution isn’t random anymore. It belongs to those who write it in code and bone.)

Name:

The Red Dragons – also called The Order of Blood or Spiral Ascension

Type:

Biocult Syndicate / Elite Enhancement Cult / Closed Genetic Guild

Brief Backstory:

The Black Dragons split from the Red Dragons long ago, not because of money but because of vision. Where the Black Dragons saw chaos and profit, the Red Dragons saw the chance to design evolution itself. They became a closed society of bioengineers, cyber-alchemists, and transhuman zealots who built towering enclaves only the “genetically worthy” can enter. They don’t consider themselves villains; they see themselves as the future owners of existence. They rarely appear in public, but their influence is everywhere: gene labs, black-market cybernetic auctions, and powerful political donors.

They don’t steal. They collect.

Key Characters:

Daegon – their founder and field leader, a flawless creation made to symbolize their supremacy

Mavado – their main enforcer and genetic “harvester”

Hsu Hao – lower-level operative

Leadership:

Daegon is their founder and leader. Once a resident of Virexx Prime, he escaped against all odds. Consumed by envy toward his brother Taven, he’s obsessed with proving he’s the superior one.

Objectives:

Prove that Daegon is the ultimate model of their posthuman ideal; perfection made flesh.

Gather rare genetic material like Edenian DNA and Earthrealm energy signatures

Destroy the Black Dragons and all “unrefined” experiments

Forge alliances with Outworld megacorps by offering enhancements in exchange for power

Special Traits / Vibes:

Members are born into the cult. Outsiders almost never join

Initiation involves genetic purification and ritual sacrifice

They use bio-coded speech that only works if your brain chemistry is altered

Every action is elegant and precise; even executions look like ceremonies

They consider E-MACR0 to be precious data, a model of fragmented perfection

Aesthetic / Visual Feel:

Crimson robes with bio-thread embroidery and masks

Spines covered in symbiotic tech

Labs carved like cathedrals, with gene tanks and organ gardens

Clean, sterile beauty everywhere. Gold, ivory, and blood red

[ACCESS MASTER ARCHIVE] all sectors, all syndicates, all stories

[mids-dumbbrain]

Mortal Kombat incorrect quotes 7: Earthrealm champions vs the DooDoo syndicate

SABBIA: I'm going to get us a ride if you two could manage not to kill eachother while I'm gone.

ROBIN: Oh please, we aren't children.

*Sabbia walks away, while Muchacha and Red Robin look at eachother*

MUCHACHA: Eat shit and die.

ROBIN: Yes, fuck you.

--------------------------------------------------

TREMOR: [reading a file he, Kobra and Kira stole from Kano's cabinet] Theory implies that those who were lost in the Bermuda triangle are now citizens of the lost empire of Atlantis.

*Kobra and Kira are barely keeping their shit together out of laughter*

KOBRA: N-no!

KIRA: Now, all my anger that I had from the last few fights I've been in is now equal to the anger I feel right now.

KOBRA: Are they breathing underwater??

--------------------------------------------------

*teen Kuai, Cyrax and Sektor fucking with a Ouija board*

KUAI: What happened to you, Enenra?

SEKTOR: How many pickles can you shove up your ass?

*9*

SEKTOR: 9?!-

*91*

CYRAX: 91?!?--

*910*

KUAI: NINE HUNDRED AND TEN!?!?!?!??!?!?!

*Cyrax and Sektor rolling on the floor while Kuai looks at the board with utter disbelief*

KUAI: 910 pickles??

--------------------------------------------------

CASSIE: [about her drone going offline] Shit... Remote control tracking is great until Mommy's little death machine decides to go off the rails...

*cut to Takeda, Jaqui and Kung Jin looking at her from like six feet away*

--------------------------------------------------

REPTILE: May I ask about your methods, emperor?

KOTAL: You may.

REPTILE: You let an Earthrealm refugee, a brute with a small child, and Shang Tsung's creation work for you...

KOTAL: Yes, and?

REPTILE: What in the Netherrealm do you have against Tarkatans?

KOTAL: ...

--------------------------------------------------

SEKTOR(mk1): Listen here you little shit. You will return the armor to us or I'll rip it off piece by piece!

CYRAX(mk1): Sektor, your mother is more threatening than you.

--------------------------------------------------

JOHNNY: I completely changed my mind. If I die I won't fold clothes or be nice or anything, I just Want to be a ghost cop.

KENSHI: I can already imagine that as your next movie.

JOHNNY: Coming this fall, Johnny Cage is... GHOST COP!

--------------------------------------------------

KUNG LAO: You next line is "Where there is Smoke, there is fire." ISN'T IT?

SMOKE: Where there is Smoke, there is fire. [Le gasp]

--------------------------------------------------

HANZO(old): Remember son, dying is gay...

HANZO(new): Yes, father.

--------------------------------------------------

KUAI: We need a plan to stop Havik.

JOHNNY: I got like five.

KUAI: It can't involve murder.

JOHNNY: ... Anyone else have any plans?

--------------------------------------------------

*several members of the Black Dragon got together at a restaurant*

KIRA: For the last time, Kobra, no one gives a shit.

KOBRA: I promise, this'll be good... Gentlemen, let me ask you a question. Do you think human flesh would taste horrible, or would it actually rock?

*Kira spits out and chokes on her soup*

TREMOR: Do you have to ruin all of our appetites?

KIRA: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! That's it, go sit at the dipshit table!

[viciousvials]

Cowboy Bebop's Problematic Bird Guy.™

Affiliated with Isola Radiale.

𝐀𝐏𝐏 | 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 | 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

Wow. This guy sucks.

What the fuck is his deal?

He brings rancid hater vibes to the function.

"Get a job, stay away from her." He already has a job, the job is the problem.

Seriously though he should stay away from Julia.

And Spike too.

He has a pet cormorant, the world's most hated bird, now available across the entire solar system. (Seriously, look it up, everyone hates those things.)

All he ever thinks about is obtaining power and authority, and fucking people over in order to achieve that.

He died after overthrowing the elder counsel of the Red Dragon Syndicate, now he is here.

Did I mention he has a crippling drug addiction?

"I can fix him." Why would you want to????

Also he has a katana.

Stupid bird man.

Written by Rex.

Icon border by underesources

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Trauma ask game for any OC of your choosing: 2, 6, and 17!

This one's going to be a long and detailed one due to the first question XD. I appologise. 2. Any interesting scars? This one's going to involve some art since Josh is covered in them. It'll make the post longer so just a warning. Also one of his scars requires a self harm warning. I've left that one until last. I've also just placed REDACTED for plot points I haven't published on Ao3 yet.

Starting with ya boi's face. There's a few iterations of face scars for him as time passes. Starting with pre-Corprus-

He has two, one that cuts through his left eyebrow (cuts from his eyelid to just below his hairline). He got this due to a skull fracture at age nineteen. Essentially REDACTED happened and he had an unexpected reaction, which led to REDACTED slamming his head into a mahogany desk because he ruined the REDACTED and that shit is worth more than him! He was eventually sold to REDACTED who ran a Camonna Tong affiliated syndicate in Cyrodiil. Or as he writes in his journals-

"Teldryn Ensirhaddon-Sero is worth precisely 700 drakes. A good price - for a kid, or so I am told."

The second one cuts across his upper nose bridge and ends around his left cheek. This is a result of a failed escape attempt whilst he was being moved from the Imperial City Prison to a carriage destined for the Gold Coast. He was hit in the face with the pommel of a sword and the impact broke his nose. It then got infected in the 8 weeks and repeated reopening of the wound from subsequent beatings whilst he was chained to the floor of a ship.

Next is face scars post-Corprus.

More or less the same, but we add a third scar to his left cheekbone the cuts into his hairline. This is the result of the successful excision of a small tumor.

Post Kogoruhn-

He's broken his nose for a second time and should have his second nose scar that runs in the opposite direction of the first. This is a new application of one that is already present in his Dragon Crisis design, I just hadn't figured out how he got it. Decided with this piece. Next is post Morrowind main quest.

He adds a series of mourning scars to his cheeks to commemorate his late husband. This also involves shaving his head as a part of the ritual, hence the shorter hair (this is circa Tribunal which is a good year after).

Here he is right before the Oblivion Crisis.

And after, where he re cuts the scaring. Dragon Crisis and post Red Year.

A few more added, mostly a diamond shaped mourning scar near the outer corner of his eye and a notch taken out of his ear from when he was thrown in Windhelm's dungeon. Though he's been pretty lucky with not getting more scars, that all ends with- Post Dragon-Crisis

Josh gets attacked by a REDACTED and gets his face ripped open. The scars actually stretch right across his torso, but face wise it effects his right side. The mauling lost him half of his right ear and part of his left. It also effects the muscles in his mouth, namely that half of it is paralysed. He's more self conscious of that than anything else. Alright, body scaring time! Pre Corprus

Mostly it's down to a few shiv slashes from his time in prison. He's got one along his right side that's from a REDACTED who tried to REDACTED, leaving him bleeding out behind a tobacco drying shed. He's got one on his upper thigh from trying to scale a fence.

Thems Corprus.

This is where most of his scarring comes from and I've added to the design since August.

The scaring covers most of his body, with the start point being his left forearm. The first tumor grew from the point where he was grabbed by Dagoth Gares. The scars are the result of the extensive and horrific attempts made by Divayth Fyr and his daughters to prevent the tumors from regrowing. This resulted in the repeated removal and cauterisation of the tumors as they grew back. Josh's Corprus scars stretch from his left arm, a warped and gnarled hand print. This scar isn't connected to the rest on his body but it is one of the worst. The main scar stretches over most of the right half of his body. Starting from his chest, it travels up, along his shoulder and up his neck before curving around his back and along his left shoulder. The large burn on his chest is the worst of it. The removal of a particularly large mass from his chest resulted in the almost complete removal of his right pectoral muscle and the birth of a lot of lame "one nipple" jokes on his behalf. He has a significant weakness on this side as a result of that muscle being removed.

That scar travels down his torso before spreading out along his thigh in another large scar, though this is mostly a surface burn. The scar reaches his toes and the deformity in his foot resulted in the removal of his first and second toes as well as part of the ball of his foot. He wears a prosthesis that he designed himself to help himself walk. Without it he can't balance and requires a crutch.

Like the scar on his cheek, he has a few smaller excision scars. One on his right hand, and another on his elbow.

The scar is technically dead tissue and oozes a strange substance (congealed blood) if cut. Part of the ordeal involved him lost in a dream sequence where he technically accepted Dagoth Ur's offer. He has two identical brandings on his palms as a result.

He has a few scars just from what he does for a living. Almost as soon as he got off the boat in Seyda Neen he found himself getting stabbed. He's got a slash through his left shoulder, two on his belly, and one large stab wound that saw him almost bleed out. There's an arrow puncture on his left flank from that time he got swindled.

Teldryn, when facing Dagoth Ur, managed to get crushed under the hand of Akulakhan as it fell into the lava beneath Red Mountain.

Corprus did something to his body. It was stronger, technically, but he didn't heal well. He left that battle with his pelvis broken in a few places as well as fractures in both femurs. When it became readily apparent that he wasn't going to die from the injury pretty much anyone on Vvardenfell who knew the healing arts tried their hand at mending the bones.

Some priests from Vivec City had an idea that involved physically realigning the bones before healing him with magic. He has two long scars on either hip as a result and one along his back. It took him a long time to learn to walk again and the injury still gives him grief. He can't swing his legs outwards and therefore can't ride a mount.

By the Dragon Crisis, he's added a crushed lower leg to the mix after he has a section of a ship fall on him. He's lucky the same priestess who pioneered his first surgery lived in the same town two hundred years later. Even if she wasn't his greatest fan. After the Dragon Crisis.

The guy's been mulled by a dragon. He's kinda upset about it since it affected his face so much. Those scars do reach across his torso, though.

The ring finger scars (Self Harm Warning)

Josh has two sets of circular scars that run around the finger that he wears Moon-and-Star on. This happened at a breaking point for him where he attempted to sever Indoril Nerevar's connection to him by removing the ring. Remove the ring, remove the problem.

Unfortunately it's not quite that simple, the ring is fused to his finger via some sort of magic that no one understands. He got the brilliant idea to amputate the finger. So he got drunk in an alley behind a tavern in Kvatch, took his dagger out and got to work. Turns out his bones don't just slice off like that and ends up passing out from drink before he makes any actual progress. There was a lot of blood.

He was found by a friend, who quickly became something more before he was taken in the Siege of Kvatch.

6. Whats their greatest fear?

Answered here. Short answer, that time will claim what he's built.

17. Do they have any pets?

Josh wants a Nix-Hound, but he's never had a pet before. He thinks a Nix-Hound will make him look badass in a "guy gets a doberman" way.

His girlfriend has rabbits...he tolerates it.

[syndxcxte]

Updated Information: Jonouchi's Bio {Will be updated further with more development}.

Updated Link Included In Pinned Post.

Name: Jonouchi Katsuya

Alias: The Boss, “Red Dragon”, Jou, Jojo

Job Status: Boss/head of the Domino Syndicate

Age: 27 years

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 128 lbs

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic/Demisexual

Relationship Status: Single {Multiship}

Species: Half-Human, Half-Dragon {Mythicarium Draconis Americanus Maximus}

Forms: Human {Above}. Dragon {Below}

Occupation: Mafia/Mob Boss

Temperament/General Info: 

Jonouchi is kind, but has a violent temper and tends to be cold, calculated and unafraid of pretty well anything. His fearlessness and ability to stand up to those that others may not be able to has given him quite the fearsome reputation. His nickname, “Red Dragon”, was earned due to his ability to shed blood without batting an eye. He’s not afraid to kill another person when necessary, or to beat them within an inch of their life and has grown to fully accept his role as the syndicate’s leader. 

To his syndicate, he is a fair leader and treats his subjects with respect, but he’s also not afraid to put someone in their place if need be. He treats those within his syndicate as his family, providing them with anything they need to remain comfortable and happy, and their families are also treated as his own as well.

He is well-respected within the community and holds significant territory within Domino City. Despite this, he doesn’t go out of his way to cause trouble for others and instead provides protection for anyone within his territory, citizen or otherwise. Many have gone to him for help with others that had been causing them trouble, and none were disappointed. 

When it comes to his friends and family, Jonouchi is still the same loving, loyal blond they once knew, however he is no longer the goofy and bouncing blond they likely once found familiar. Now, he takes his tole very seriously and carries an air of seriousness that he never had before…But don’t let that fool you. He still has his moments of being playful, rare though they may be, and still very much enjoys spending time with his friends. 

However, Jou holds a very deep secret that only a very select few people are aware of. He is not fully human, instead carrying the blood of a now-extinct dragon species. He has the ability to shift into a dragon form, with the power of flight on his side. 

If his secret should ever be discovered, Jonouchi’s safety will never be guaranteed, and may result in a life on the run. The select few he trusts with his secret, Jonouchi will defend with his life.