#even one infamous for being food criminals

[blujayonthewing]

[LAYS ON THE FUCKING FLOOR] MY MOM LEFT THE GRAVY AND BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP SHE MADE YESTERDAY JUST OUT ON THE STOVETOP OVERNIGHT AND ALL DAY TODAY AND THEN TRIED TO FEED IT TO US

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ║ ❝𝐖𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐚 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧❞

(A/n) ➳ Started watching Hazbin Hotel again, gotta say, it’s a good show. I was hoping to get to the next chapter sooner. I thank you guys for being patient, I seriously had a massive writer’s block.

Word Count ➳ 1.7k

Content Warnings ➳ Swearing, light sexual content, mentions of anger issues, mentions of abuse, mention of unrequited love, mentions of marriages, alcohol use, mentions of criminal investigation…

JUDAS Masterlist

“DON’T YOU MEAN THAT SHIT DINER?”

You let out a playful scoff, acting offended. “Well excuse you Daryl, The Golden Bite is an amazing diner!” You spoke to him over the phone.

That’s when your coworker, Annie came walking with a plate in hand that had a half eaten burger. “Still tastes like cardboard.” She sang as she headed back to the kitchen.

“Annie-”

“Still not gettin’ it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Gonna come and say it to my face?” You flinched at the loud voices coming from the kitchen, Annie was once again arguing with the cooks.

You don’t blame her, the cooks the manager hired are shit and so is the quality of the food. It’s a shock that this place hadn’t been shut down yet.

You heard Daryl laugh and the infamous sound of his motorcycle. “I still wanna live another day and get another taste, still thinkin’ of ya.”

Your face immediately became hot, you thought you would break your phone with how tight you were clutching it.

“Daryl!” You harshly whispered.

“I’m an honest man and I’m honest when I say, I wanna bend you over my bike again.”

“I’m at work!”

“That ain’t gonna stop me.”

Annie poked her head around the corner. “Oh yeah, Meredith said that the sheriff wants you. Ain’t taking anybody else.” She disappeared before you could retort.

“That’s my cue.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Judas.” You set your phone in your pocket and looked over your shoulder for a quick glance, right by the window.

Shane sat at the table, looking over the menu as if he hadn’t been here for the hundredth time. You snapped your head back at the coffee machine the second his eyes drifted away from the menu.

You were still reeling from the conversation you had with him before, the two of you hadn’t talked, texted, or called each other. He didn’t stop by whenever he was in the neighborhood, did he feel guilty?

You walked to his table with a pen and notepad in hand. “Hey, Shane, what can I get you?”

“Just the special and a large coffee, nothin’ in it.”

“I’ll get that-”

“Can you give me a minute?” Shane interrupted you.

You looked up from your notepad and lifted an eyebrow. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Jus’ sit, I won’t be long.”

You sighed. “If I get busted, it’s gonna be on your head, Walsh. I need this job.”

Shane chuckled. “You could always become a stay at home wife.”

You scoffed, clicking your pen. “Yeah? Who the hell’s gonna deal with my bullshit?”

“Me as your husband.”

Your heart sank into your stomach. “What?” You needed to bite this in the bud, like Amy said. “Look Shane, I don’t think-”

“You say that but what ‘bout later? Down the line? What happens when the jackass becomes borin’? Or worse? Hurts you?”

You could only shake your head in disbelief, Daryl was many things. He’s wild, secretive, and could be distant at times but he would never hurt you.

“Seriously? Do you really think that low of Daryl?! You don’t even know him.”

“Do you even know him?”

“That’s-”

“Do you know where the guy lives or any idea what he does for a livin’?” Shane then grabbed your wrist to pull you closer, his hot breath hitting your face. “I know you, (Y/n). I know that you like to chase after people who ain’t good for you and you know it! He’s one of them. And I know you’re better and safer with me.”

“I don’t-!”

“Pardon me!” Annie made you both jump back, Shane releasing his tightening grip. “Are you lovebirds done arguing?”

“Annie-!”

“Because we would like you to keep the volume down or take it outside.” Annie cut you off before you could even explain. “Or you can get back to work and not lose this job.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, scurrying off to the kitchen.

Annie’s eyes turned to Shane who she glared at. “You ain’t good for her. Not even close.” She turned on her heel and followed you.

She found you in the break room, rubbing your arms and taking deep breaths. She could see it in your eyes, the slight anger.

“Need me to ask Miguel to toss that guy out?” Annie placed a hand on your shoulder.

“No, no.” You waved her off, your hands now fidgeting with your fingers. “I don’t know what that was.”

“That was a glimpse of an asshole.” Annie explained. “And a jealous one from what I heard, no ‘mout of therapy can fix that man.”

“You could never know-”

“I know ‘em (Y/n).”

“He’s probably cooled off by now.” You took one final deep breath. “I’m jus’ gonna hear what else he gotta say then I’m done, I’m out of here.”

“Workin’ or him?”

“Most likely both.”

Meredith peered into the break room. “Think she’s gonna reject him?”

Annie shook her head, her hands on her hips as she took a couple steps out the break room, seeing you sit back down with Shane. “The girl loves thrill and danger. Safety is never in her handbook.”

“Worried for ‘er?”

“I’m scared shitless.”

“Look, (Y/n) I know I ain’t your type of guy. But it could all change.” Shane explained.

“I ain’t got time for this, I ain’t got time for whatever you’re dreamin’ of. It’s all it is, a dream.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do.” You retracted your hand when he went for it, speaking as sternly as you could without drawing the attention of customers. “And if you understand, you would stop askin’ ‘bout this guy.”

“I’ll understand when I get the chance to show you that a life with me is a safer choice than whatever you have with that guy.”

You groaned, was he really going to do this to himself? “You would rather be in a loveless marriage?”

“It ain’t gonna be loveless. What I’m askin’ you to do is to go out with me.”

“HE SAID WHAT?!” Andrea snatched the pillow that hid your frustrated expression, she threw it behind her and asked the same question again, even louder if possible.

“You heard me.” You mumbled.

You didn’t know how to feel other than uncomfortable. The lump in your throat didn’t want to leave, making you feel bothered.

“What did you say?!”

“Didn’t say anythin’, told me to think ‘bout it.”

“Dammit (Y/n)!”

“I know!” You stopped her before she could scold you. “I know I should’ve said no!”

“But you gotta admit, he’s gotta be loaded with cash.”

“...He kinda is.”

“S-Seriously?”

You nodded, you grabbed another pillow to squeeze at, trying to sooth yourself. “There would be times where Shane would pay for my expenses, like rent and water.”

“Oh he’s serious ‘bout you.”

“That’s the sad part. Even if things didn’t work out with Daryl, I don’t want Shane to be a second option jus’ ‘cause I couldn’t have Daryl or it becomes borin’. I wanna be sure that if I choose Shane, it’s gotta be true.”

You jumped at the sound of the wine bottle being popped open, you stared at Andrea as she poured you a rather large glass of wine.

“Then go see Shane.”

“Y’know I can’t-”

“See Shane and see how you feel. If nothin’ changes or worse comes to worst, you feel repulsed, then tell ‘im. You can continue to see Daryl with Shane hanging over your head.”

Andrea pushed the glass into your hands. “And what if it doesn’t? What if I end up fallin’ for him?”

“Then you could lose a man you love or a man who’s only sticking ‘round when he needs you to blow or fuck.”

“Daryl doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Then that’s worse, choosing between two guys is a fuckin’ nightmare.”

‘Im on my way’

You read the text again from Shane, silently hoping all of this was just a dream and you never heard Shane asking you out.

You shut your phone and stared into the mirror, you sighed, taking your tenth pair of earrings off. You were annoyed with yourself, how hard was it to say no? Especially to Shane?

The knocking on your door made you annoyed even more, you weren’t in the mood for a guest but it dropped when you saw Carl with Rick… Carl with Rick.

You opened your door. “Hey Rick.” Then you turn to the boy. “Carl!”

Carl quickly wrapped his arms around you, nearly knocking you down. You could never stay mad at the boy.

Rick stepped in and closed your door. “I’m callin’ in a favor.”

“Shoot.” You said, managing to get his arms off to get him a little snack.

“Lori’s mom canceled on us and I know your workin’ tomorrow. I was hopin’ if you could look after Carl after your shift. Jus’ for a couple hours.”

“It’s no problem, you know I don’t mind takin’ care of your rascal.”

“Hey!” His shout made you stick out your tongue at him playfully.

“So… What’s gotcha all dolled up? Goin’ out with that guy?”

“What guy-? How did you know I was talkin’ to someone?” Rick fumbled over his words. “Grimes.”

“Shane, he was worried ‘bout you.”

“Jeez, y’know I can take care of myself.”

“Said that last time, remember what happened?”

You rolled your eyes. “It was once.”

“Three times, three guys who broke your heart.”

“It was nothin’. They were nothin’. They jus’ broke up with me, nothin’ crazy.”

“You say that now but what if it’s different?” Rick pulled you away from Carl and whispered. “What if he has a criminal record or is involved in some deep shit?”

“I can find that out.”

“And so can I but quicker, jus’ give me a name.”

“I ain’t gonna give you shit, Grimes.” You walked back to Carl. Your smile came back as you watched Carl become happy when you let him get some more.

Rick wanted to get it out of you, but if he couldn’t get it out of you, surely Carl could.

You could never say no to him.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien ,

⊰ Chapter 3 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 5 ⊰

[fujoshirat]

+Strawberry Magic! ♡ 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!♡+

Chapter 2: An Extra Boost

Summary: When virgin Pro Hero Shouto turns 30, he gains the magical ability to read the minds of people that he touches. After finding out that his personal assistant has a crush on him, everything changes and Shouto finds himself lost in the stressful game called love.

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, mention of virginity, as usual: this entire fic is and will be written in Shouto's POV. HOWEVER... there is a short reader's POV in this chapter so I hope you enjoy it (hehe)

"Todoroki-san, are you alright?"

The sound of Y/N's voice snaps Shouto out of his dazed state. What was he doing again? Oh right, walking her to the subway. The soft splash of shoes stepping into rain puddles fill Shouto's ears, the rain having stopped a few minutes ago.

"Ah, yes. Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

Y/N nods and continues walking with her boss. After a few minutes, the covered stairs to the subway become visible, quickly bringing a smile to Y/N's face.

"There it is!" Shouto nods and escorts her to the entrance. Stepping under the covering, Y/N turns to Shouto and bows.

"Thank you once again, Todoroki-san! I hope you didn't mind the detour on the way." Shouto shakes his head. "It's quite alright, L/N-san. It's the least I can do for my assistant."

He makes sure that she goes down the stairs, and once she is out of sight, he walks in the direction of his house.

...

After tossing together chicken and whatever vegetables he could find in the fridge, Shouto begins his research. Busy typing away on his personal laptop and halfheartedly eating his dinner, he types the following:

Cherry magic 30 years of virginity can make you a wizard

What happens when you turn 30

Mysterious happenings at 30 years old

Is it possible to read minds

Development of mind reading quirk at 30

Mind reading at 30

Hand crushing and mind reading

Am I possessed?

Finishing his food, Shouto groans when his research hits a dead end.

'I don't understand! Has no one ever experienced this before?' Turning his laptop off, he looks at his reflection in the dark screen.

'Maybe I'm just being silly. It's all in my head.'

...

Spoiler alert: he was not being silly. Shouto really could read minds.

Reaching the scene where a villain infamously known for kidnapping women was on the loose, he looks at his interns behind him.

"Mitsuru, Tsubasa, evacuate the area and check for any others who may need assistance."

"Yes sir!"

As the high school students spread out, Shouto faces the villain chasing after adolescent girls. With his right side, he encases the distracted man in frigid, freezing ice. Once he is rendered immobile, he walks up to him.

"If you don't wish to catch frostbite before being sent to prison, I suggest you tell me where your victims are." The twisted criminal laughs and smirks.

"Why would I tell you?"

Shouto's left side flares up slightly and places his hand on the man's head, eliciting a yelp from him.

"Okay! Okay! Fine! I'll tell you! They're in Yokohama, by the river!" Nodding, Shouto is about to remove his hand when suddenly he hears a voice in his head.

'Stupid pro hero Shouto! The guy doesn't realize I'm lying straight to his face! The dumb chicks are still in Hosu City! He'll never find Club Diamond.'

His eyes widen slightly, and he lets go of the man's face. The police arrive just in time, and the city detective walks up to Shouto.

"Pro hero Shouto! Thanks for taking care of him."

"Ah, it's no problem, Matsuyama-san." The shorter man smiles and takes out his notebook. "Did the villain say anything about the missing women?" Shouto looks at the criminal being escorted into a police van. Once he is out of earshot, he turns back to Matsuyama and speaks.

"Can you find a Club Diamond? In Hosu City."

♡ 3 hours later ♡

"Good evening, I am your reporter, Muramoto Kozue, and here is Tokyo's latest headline news. At around noon, pro hero Shouto and Hosu City's lead detective solved the puzzling disappearance of women in the area. Having rescued five women no older than 26, pro hero Shoto also apprehended the criminal."

Holding her microphone, the news reporter turns to Shouto.

"Pro hero Shouto, eyewitnesses have stated that the villain told you that the women were in Yokohama. What made you decide to check our own city, no less a club?"

Taking a silent breath, Shouto speaks into the microphone the sentences that he practiced in his head.

"No villain would truly be upfront with information that heroes want. With the way that he told me the supposed location of the victims without hesitating as well as his refusal to make eye contact with me were signs that he was lying. Also, the alleyway that the Diamond Club is located in has been known for crime and sketchy mishaps."

'Signs my ass, I knew all of this because of this weird mind reading ability.' Nodding, the reporter looks back at the camera.

"Well, there you have it! Shouto-san, thank you once again for your efforts in keeping Hosu City safe. I'm Muramoto Kozue and this is your latest report on what has just gone down in Tokyo. Signing off." The camera shuts off and the cameraman gives the thumbs up. Shouto bows to the report crew and walks over to his interns on the side.

"Sensei! You were so cool!"

"Sir, I would have never guessed that the victims were in Hosu City!"

Shouto waves his left hand. "It was nothing really. Thank you two for escorting all of the victims. I heard from Matsuyama-san that you both assisted well." Reaching a vacant taxi, he gestures for the boys to enter.

"We did good today. The agency's around 20 minutes away on foot, and since you boys did a lot today, we can take a taxi."

His interns cheer in unison.

"Thank you, sir!"

...

"L/N-san! Is it okay if I ask a few questions? It's about my report."

"Of course!" Y/N walks over to Mitsuru, who appears to be struggling with his report. Tsubasa speaks up.

"L/N-san, what's it like being a secretary?"

"Hm? Well, it's a lot of work, especially here at this busy agency. I'm sure you both see me, running around the building, negotiating, answering phones, collecting and looking over reports, deliv-"

"Buying coffee for sensei!"

Y/N blinks slowly at the younger boy, then starts laughing. Tsubasa snickers in the background.

"B-buying coffee? For Todoroki-san?"

Mitsuru's cheeks turn red. "My bad, L/N-san! It's just- you always buy coffee for Todoroki-san. Do all secretaries do that?" The other intern nods. "L/N-san does always seem to get sensei coffee." Y/N chuckles.

"I guess it's been a habit for me to buy Todoroki-san coffee. I mean, ever since he hired me, I've always bought him his coffee in the morning!" She starts giggling.

"Do you boys want to hear a story?"

"Yes! Yes!"

She stands between them and starts whispering.

"So one time, I had an appointment in the morning one day..."

...

When Shouto exits the elevator, he hears giggling. Turning to the desks, he sees Y/N huddled with the high schoolers. Leaning over her shoulder, his frame towering hers, he speaks up.

"What are you doing?"

Y/N yelps and turns her head. "Oh! Todoroki-san! I was just bonding with our interns!" She giggles and winks at the boys.

'L/N-san has a pretty laugh', Shouto thinks.

"L/N-san was telling us about the time when the agency was turned upside down because you didn't get your morning coff-!"

"Shh! Mitsuru! How could you betray me like that? After I trusted you with such a delicate secret... Boohoo.." She sniffles, teasing the intern and slip up.

"Mitsuru!" Tsubasa hisses. "You're such an airhead!"

"My bad! Me and my big mouth..."

Shouto chuckles and looks at Y/N, who has a smile adorning her face. "I was helping them with their reports, and I wanted to tell them one of our agency's very fun stories." "And you decided to tell them the story that could destroy the grand image that the two of them have of me?" Shouto jests lightly, the corners of his mouth curved upwards at the thought of the memory.

"That day was the day that everyone in the agency realized that we couldn't function without L/N-san. L/N-san is a very important person here, so please treat her nicely."

"Oh please," Y/N's cheeks turn pink. "the interns are absolute sweethearts and I really only focus on management, PR, finance, meetin-" All three boys look at Y/N, and she laughs sheepishly.

'Y/N has a very pretty laugh,' Shouto thinks again.

"Okay, maybe I do do a lot. But it's worth it! I love the agency and do not want to incur the wrath of my boss without coffee!"

"I wasn't that bad!" Shouto huffs playfully, his left hand resting on Tsubasa's chair.

"Mhm, whatever you say, Todoroki-san."

Shouto lets out a soft laugh-

And then,

he hears Tsubasa's voice in his head.

'L/N-san and sensei act like a married couple. Are they dating?'

...

After clocking out, Shouto goes home. Once he finishes eating dinner, he takes a shower and lays on his bed.

'Today was... interesting.' Looking at his hands, he smiles softly. 'This mind reading ability was really helpful today. I didn't expect the women to still be in Hosu City. Maybe this mind reading thing is a good thing.'

'L/N-san and sensei act like a married couple. Are they dating?'

'Do L/N-san and I act like a married couple? Well... I do think her laugh is pretty.'

'Oh god, I like him so much.'

Shouto's eyebrows scrunch together 'What L/N-san said yesterday... What did she mean by *like*? Was it admiration? Approval?'

Shouto's eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink.

'No way.'

Gaining an idea, he grabs his phone and opens Line. Clicking on the groupchat consisting of two other members, he swiftly types out a message. He sends it out, anxiously waiting for a response.

Kushikatsu. 7:30

-6:42pm

'L/N-san has a pretty laugh.'

A/N: That's it for chapter 2! Can you guess who Shouto messaged at the end? The little reader POV was completely unplanned so it was a surprise to me too when I was writing this OwO I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Once again, thank you everyone who has being showing interest and support in this series so far <3 If you haven't already, you should definitely check out Yuu Toyota's Cherry Magic! series which greatly inspired this series!!!

Also, I'm starting a taglist for this so if you wanna be tagged, just let me know in the replys/comments :] I didn't realize the amount of people that would actually read this messy fic, so I obviously I didn't plan on making a taglist but here we are!! (i'll figure it out eventually, i promise) ^^ Chapter 3 is in the works, so once again thank you all and I hope you all look forward to that ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

~entire fic and notes written by me: fujoshirat!

TAGLIST (thank u!!): @boogiemansbitch

[writerofjourneys]

Hi! If requests are still open, could I request Akira/Joker with a female reader who's a phenomenal cook?

Making him lunches, snacks, and occasionally breakfast and dinner too. Boy's bout to be spoiled.

Cooking for Joker

Fandom(s): Persona 5

P5 Protagonist/Joker x Fem Reader

Headcanon

Content: Fluff, romance, food, established relationship, marriage, married life, aged up characters, cooking, domesticity, soft Joker, taking care of each other, affection, declarations of love.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫

As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akira is busy preparing for heists and fighting Shadows. But not just for being a leader of a mysterious infamous group, he’s busy everywhere. Ranking up confidants, fusing Personas, stocking supplies, studying, Akira’s been dealt with a lot of responsibilities since he got to Tokyo.

Eating at Big Bang Burger all the time and doing those challenges isn’t healthy on a regular basis. He does eat out with the team and his confidants sometimes. And Sojiro does cook breakfast for him on occasion.

But he will have a tendency to overwork himself and forget his own needs. He’s also taking care of Morgana, another mouth to feed besides himself. During lunchtime, Akira would either share his meal or just give it to Morgana.

Though since Morgana is known to keep track of his bedtime, the cat will make reminders for him to eat. The talking feline does pride himself for being responsible.

But you making food for him will send his heart soaring. He’s a lanky male, not too thin, but not so muscular, so he could still go for some more meat in his bones. It’s not only a sweet gesture but also an efficient way to help feed your hardworking boyfriend. He may even blush a little from the adoring sentiment.

Making bentos for him? Touching. Making matching bentos for the two of you? Adorable. Especially if you’re putting great details in the lunches, like making cute faces in the shape of animals and such. Akira will tease that it looks far better to admire, but he’ll happily finish the bento until there’s nothing left. He’s never been a picky eater so he’s open to try anything you make.

Learning about your cooking skills definitely impresses him. Akira likes to improve his own culinary abilities. Working with Sojiro behind the counter helped him discover that passion. So being a phenomenal cook, he’d gladly ask for tips and advice once in a while.

Akira finds himself astounded that someone like him, someone carrying a false criminal record serving probation in an unfamiliar place alone, could have such a loving girlfriend caring for him. He always makes sure to not let you forget his own affections and how much everything you do means.

It becomes a routine for you two to meet up at lunchtime and eat together. Sitting side by side closely, across with legs touching. There’s no doubt that Akira will happily reciprocate in taking turns making meals for you both. A good way to practice his cooking skills despite his busy schedule. If you were to ever be unable to make it, Akira will feel your absence greatly.

Breakfast? Probably best to have something easier to eat as you walk to Shujin side by side on weekdays. It is true as they say that to a person’s heart in general is through the stomach. If you stopped by carrying food filled containers to eat at LeBlanc, Sojiro has no problem with it. He does agree that Akira should be mindful of eating. Depending on if said containers are washable, he’ll let you keep them at the café until you take them back.

Feeding each other is a thing in private. When no one is there, Akira will offer a piece of food to your lips, expression cheeky. It’s something you’d only do behind closed doors.

And in reverse, he’s happy to welcome a spoonful from you. Wiping a stain on his mouth gets him a bit bashful. A napkin? Cute. Your own tongue? Now his face got even redder.

But beware, the leader of the Phantom Thieves has tricks up his sleeve. He’ll reciprocate the action in a sneaky way to tease back.

Dates spent cooking and eating together is very domestic and wholesome. Trying new recipes, sharing some, it’s a lovely way to spend time with one another. Though you’d probably spend that in your home rather than his. Because as nice as the coffee and curry is at the café, you’d have more privacy and space to work on. Akira always has a look in his eyes when he gazes upon you, so much so it makes you bashful every time you see it.

Food turns into a new love language between you.

And once you become adults? Naturally, living together is expected after the deepening of your relationship growing from being high school sweethearts. Cooking together becomes a real staple in your household. Working different jobs may not always let you cook together, but having the thoughtfulness of making food for the other is still as meaningful.

[cerastes]

I was wondering, are there any characters in Arknights that on the surface are jokesters, but anre actually immensely deep and powerful? I know about characters like Jaye and Nothing, but they aren’t particularly funny and casual. What I’m looking for is someone like Sans, basically.

"Nothing isn't particularly funny" oh we're just fundamentally different people then because I smile like a babe listening to jingling keys every time he's in the scene.

In the exact same regard as Sans, 1:1? Not really. Similar enough in some regards or in essence that they warrant mention? Yeah, I'd say so.

Aak is a good case, I'd say. Aak is a very casual guy, perhaps excessively so, referring to Doctor as "my dude" and in general having a very whimsical whistle to his steps, not to mention his seemingly jovial soul. Then you dig a bit deeper and you realize, well, despite the way he behaves, he takes what he does extremely seriously and is one of the most ruthless characters in the cast as a whole, in addition to being a medical sciences prodigy the likes of which Terra has seldom seen, and being infamous in the criminal underworld as a vigilante and executioner that has no qualms disposing of a mother fucker, if said fornicator of moms is a criminal and adversely affects others. See, the thing with Aak is that he, for the longest time, hated being so good at the medical sciences, because as he saw with his own twisted father, a brutal underworld doctor and criminal, curing illnesses doesn't begin to truly rid the common man of their suffering: There are always oppressors, abusers, those who selfishly make lives difficult for others for their own gain. Aak believes that to be a truly good "doctor", he needs to eliminate the root cause of the people's suffering: Criminals that will hurt them. Since his cooperation with Rhodes Island, his views have shifted a bit for the better (understanding people better, finding a good friend that shares his latent curiosity and love for the medical sciences and research in Warfarin), but it's still evident that Aak remains an unstable vat of fluoroantimonic acid waiting to bubble over, if the right trigger is present. He's not particularly powerful, with all his evaluations being "Normal" and "Standard", but his ruthlessness, his knowledge of the underworld, and his deep knowledge of medical sciences do make him quite dangerous despite "my dude"ing you.

Ceobe is the other one that comes to mind. Ceobe basically replicates the experience of having a big dumb loving dog, not just with Doctor, but with others as well, such as her canonical friends Vulcan and Sesa (Sesa being someone that also qualifies imo), and is in general a fun goober that livens up every scene she's in on virtue of, well, being a big dumb loving dog with all that entails: She WILL break into the kitchen even though she knows it's forbidden for her to do this, she WILL steal food, she WILL whimper and apologize, she WILL grow immensely defensive over her loved ones over things like "a loud vacuum cleaner" and WILL act over any perceived threat with maximum power; the entirety of Integrated Strategies 1, Ceobe's Fungimist, comes about because Ceobe gets high on hallucinogenic mushrooms she found in the jungle, and goes apeshit because she imagines this whole scenario where Villains have kidnapped Doctor and only she and whatever friends she can recruit on the way can save them, resulting in her beating the absolute shit out of numerous warrior tribes Dynasty Warriors style. Let's talk about that last part! She beat the absolute shit out of numerous warrior tribes Dynasty Warriors style while high as fuck on shrooms. She can do that! Because Ceobe is actually fucking shredded. Despite being a Funny Dog, Ceobe is a legitimately Arts genius, having no formal training and yet being able to use Arts with no problem, almost instinctively, as well as simply being able to harness pretty much any weapon she touches and empower them further with her Arts. Part of this is definitely because she's VERY Infected, but not even that explains just the sheer magnitude and expertise with which Ceobe seems to use her Arts. And speaking of? She dragged herself, across much of Terra, while incredibly Infected and with no care at all.

Ceobe, by all rights, should be dead. Not even the Medic Operator that wrote her medical file has a lot of faith, and her Oripathy is explicitly very grave and only getting worse. And even in this state, she dragged herself and the small arsenal strapped to her back across the world.

Her Physiological Endurance rank of Outstanding is no joke. Keep in mind, this is a rank equivalent to the toughest and most resilient characters we know of, such as Specter and Hoshiguma.

This is all stuff you'll only ever realize about Ceobe if you pay attention, because she's almost exclusively used for comedic relief, but the funny dog is actually a natural archmage and weaponmaster that just won't fucking die, if we were to use more fantasy adjacent terms for her.

There's more (like Sesa) but those two are the ones that jumped to mind.

[shixcherie]

I Love You 3000 | Choi Jongho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 08 : Jealousy/ Cheating Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : A lap dance can do a lot of things. It can bring Jongho running to your door, drenched in rain just for a taste of you.

Word Count : 3.06k Genre : Smut, Angst, 18+, Non-idol Au. Pairing : Lawyer! Jongho x Strip Club worker! F.Reader

WARNINGS : pure smut (18+), lap dance, Hard Dom Jongho, reader is a switch, mentions of drugs, alcohol, serving clients, strong language, dirty talk, pet names (baby, honey, pretty, sweet girl), angsty, fluff at the end, foreplay, reader calls jongho master.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 08 dropping a little late ma chéries. Its Jongho’s turn to have a taste of you. Hope you end this piece of mine as well. Day 09 and Day 10 fics on their way, dropping tomorrow.

Who knew this Historical day could become even more iconic and memorable with Jongho showering u with all his love.

Today marked the 3000th day since you ran away from the orphanage, the place your so-called 'amazing' faceless parents abandoned you to, a living hell in all aspects . A place that was supposed to be your home, but felt anything but that. It was the opposite of everything you craved: no warmth, no love, no freedom, only pure dictatorship.

Your 18th birthday marked the first night you tasted freedom, running away from that hellish place. A historical moment for you. Running away wasn’t just the best option, it was the ONLY option, to not only achieve freedom but A life of your own.

Inferno Nights became your second home. The club was infamous for its illegal activities but had never been raided, offering top-class services, premium liquor, exotic drugs, with an irritatingly attractive boss, Choi Lucas, sitting at the top of the food chain.

Was it really better than the orphanage? No.

But does it pay the bills and guarantee you the freedom to be whoever and however you want? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Being Lucas’s favorite fuck toy, oops “His main” like her liked to address you, allowed you to climb the ranks quickly. Not his girlfriend, just a companion. An overwhelmingly satisfying one at that. Trading your body for freedom seemed like the only way to survive in this cruel world. So be it.

Serving him came with lucrative pay, an apartment to call your own, access to the best booze and drugs, and a roster of elite clients to serve.

One of them was a guy who was a criminal attorney by day, but a total stoner, drunkard, and limitless black card swiper by night,Choi Jongho.

Lucas’s darling younger brother, but with double the stubbornness, double the brains, and double the handsomeness,double the money with a sprinkle of love.

A love not for the world, but reserved for a few special, lucky people. For them, he bent the rules and toyed with authority like a tiger playing with its prey.

—

The night of the 3000th day marked the beginning of a rollercoaster ride you never wanted to experience, not even in your wildest dreams. But one your soul desperately needed.

Another historical moment in your life’s calendar.

You always took this day off to indulge in drinking the night away, celebrating the first time your life became your own. Your living room table was set with snacks and whiskey, Netflix playing on the TV, and you all cozy and cuddled up on the couch, when your phone rang.

You scrunched your nose at the name on the screen. Demi. Ugh... you hated that bitch.

Lucas’s second favorite, one of the elite servers like you. She had an extremely pretty face but a completely opposite personality - entitled, bitchy, and annoying. She hated your guts more than you hated hers, and was the sole reason you ended up in trouble most of the time.

“What?” you say, picking up the call, annoyance dripping from your voice,deliberately.

“No hi, no hello, kitten? Is this how you talk to your seniors?” she mocks. You hated being called kitten. It made you feel homeless, helpless, and extra fucking lonely. Like a stray cat wandering the streets, with no place to call home.

“Cut the crap, Demi. Get to the point” you snap, not wanting to endure her voice a second longer.

“A client is asking for you” she says.

Not today. Today you and your precious time belonged to no one.

“Nope. Not coming.” You say dismissively, ready to hang up, but then she drops the name.

“It’s for Jongho. I mean Master Jongho. His friends booked a lap dance for him.And they want only you,” she pauses, her tone shifting instantly. Being Lucas’s brother, no one says no to Jongho.

“So be at the club in 10 minutes. You know what to wear. I don’t need to remind you, do I?” she says and hangs up before you can respond.

Would Lucas be angry with you serving his brother? Maybe.

But a client is a client, and it’s just a lap dance,nothing more.

“No intimate relationships with any of my clients. You three belong to me, so don’t even think about putting those mouths anywhere else” Lucas lectures, addressing you, Demi, and Anya, his three mains.

“That would be cheating in my book, and trust me, you don’t want to find out the consequences of treason.” he adds, a villainous smirk playing on his lips as he delivers the threat.

In 10 minutes, you arrived at Inferno Nights, dressed in the sexiest, tiniest gold shimmery dress, looking like a goddess. A choker around your neck added to the seductive charm, paired with chunky boots to heighten the tension. Light makeup and a bold red lip sealed the deal. Gold was definitely your color. In the dim lighting, it made you look like an angel, a euphoric dream, a salvation from all the stresses of your clients.

Demi greeted you with her usual annoying face, a vicious look in her eyes. Something about it felt off, but you dismissed it, assuming she was just jealous that Jongho had asked for you.

You entered the private room where Jongho and his friends were seated. You recognized every single one of them—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, and Wooyoung. Not just because they were regulars at Inferno Nights, but also because each of them owned powerful businesses and had definite connections to the underworld, just like Jongho.

The air buzzed with tension as their gazes locked onto you, the dim light highlighting your shimmering gold dress.

"Look who decided to grace us. Jongho’s favorite." Hongjoong whispered to Seonghwa, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Hmm? Why am I his favorite? Does he even know I exist?

Jongho’s smile widened as you approached, his eyes dark and intense, drawing you in like a magnet.

“Ready for your dance, Master Jongho?” you teased, swaying your hips. It took everything in you to resist the temptation to pounce on him. The way he looked absolutely perfect in that blazer made you feel weak, like it was tailored just to intensify his sex appeal.

Why the fuck does he have to look so mouthwatering? And he's off-limits? I hate you, Lucas!

“Show me what you’ve got.” he replied, tilting his head slightly with a smirk, trying his hardest to maintain his smooth composure, though you could feel it slipping as you traced his broad shoulders.

You slid onto his lap, the heat between you undeniable as whispers echoed around the room.

“Damn, she’s stunning.” Yunho remarked, leaning closer to San.

“Hope he can handle her.” Mingi added, chuckling softly.

Handle me?! Man, I hope I make it out of here alive.

The world, the people, their whispers—everything faded into oblivion as you became his sole focus, and he became yours.

You straddled him, hips rolling to the sensual beat of the slow music, your body pressing lightly against his chest. His breath hitched as you leaned in, the scent of whiskey on his breath mingling with your perfume, intoxicating both of you.

“You seem a little tense, Master Jongho,” you whispered into his ear, your lips brushing his skin slightly. His jaw clenched, and you could feel his restraint slipping.

His hands hovered over your hips, wanting to touch but holding back. You could see the internal battle in his eyes: desire versus control.

The friction between your thighs and his lap sent jolts of heat through both of you. You could feel him tense beneath you, trying to maintain his composure, but his ragged breaths told you he was already losing that fight.

You leaned back slightly, grinding down harder, your lips parted as the intensity built between you.

“Touch me, Jongho.” you whispered, daring him. Your words caused him to snap. His hands finally gave in, gripping your waist with a roughness that made your breath catch, finally surrendering to the desires he had harbored since the first day he laid eyes on you.

Desire - 1, Control - 0.

Jongho’s craving for you went way back. The first time he saw you at Inferno Nights, you were just a new worker, but seeing you all lovey-dovey with Lucas made him step back, thinking you might like his brother. Only later did he realize that Lucas was a selfish asshole, keeping three girls all to himself. That only fueled Jongho’s desire for you, after all, forbidden things always taste sweeter.

For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. Every grind, every movement sent electric shivers through your body, and you could feel his rock-hard response beneath you, your own arousal pooling in your core.

The music played on as you rolled your hips one last time. Jongho’s grip tightened, and his lips brushed against the skin of your neck. A low, hungry growl escaped him.

“God, you’re dangerous.Want you more.” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. His lips found the delicate spot behind your ear, kissing it before biting down hard, pulling a whimper out of you.

The teasing was over. Now, it was pure, raw intensity.

Suddenly, you jumped off him, gulping hard, breaths shallow as your cheeks flushed a deep red. Every pair of eyes in the room was on you, their gazes piercing right through your soul.

“Time’s up. I—I should go now. Thank you, Master Jo-Jongho, for calling on m-me.” you stammered,taking a deep breath, you swiftly walked out of the room.

As you hurried out, Demi caught you by the arm. “Done for the night, kitten?” she asked, a little too amused for someone who should’ve been jealous. But you couldn’t focus on her right now. Your mind was foggy, all you wanted was to go home, strip off the dress that smelled of him, and sleep.

—

Why can’t you sleep? Why did he kiss you? No, bite... it was more of a bite. But why? And why did it feel so good, so heavenly?

Raindrops hit your windowsill as the storm outside raged. You stared at the ceiling, rolling from one side of the bed to the other for what felt like the hundredth time, trying desperately to sleep.

Will Lucas punish you for that? Why does Jongho have to be Lucas’s brother? Ugh… what a fucking mess.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You checked the time, it was 2 AM.

Who could it be? Is it Lucas? Did he find out already? Who told him? Demi for sure. Ugh… Demi, you bitch.

Slowly, you made your way to the door and opened it just enough to peek through. There stood Jongho, drenched from head to toe, a smirk playing on his lips. He looked irresistibly sexy in his wet state, which in turn made you wet down there as your arousal pooled at your core, reminising the moments you both shared a few hours ago. Three words: I. Want. You.

That was it. All your promises to Lucas and your sanity went down the drain as you dragged Jongho inside, latching onto his lips hungrily, which he returned with equal intensity and passion.

Pinning you against the door, his hand cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss as your hands fumbled with his blazer, desperate to free him from his wet clothes. As much as you loved him in that sexy black blazer, right now, all you wanted was him—deep inside you, fucking the living hell out of you.

Breaking the steamy kiss for just a second, you tugged off your tank top before your mouths collided again. His hands now cupped your hips, pulling you tighter against him. His hand signaled for you to jump, which you obeyed, your core aligning perfectly with his clothed, rock-hard dick, the bulge fighting hard to be freed.

His tongue explored the depths of your mouth, sucking, nibbling, biting, as your breathy moans filled the room, accompanied by the sound of the rain outside. His length rubbed against your clothed core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, making your toes curl in response to the overwhelming sensations.

“Jongho… ahh… I need you.” you cried out, desperate for him to fill you up.

“Where do you want me?” he teased, his lips trailing open-mouthed kisses along your neck, stopping just behind your ear. “Be clear and precise.” With that, he bit the sensitive skin behind your ear, making you gasp.

“Inside… I need you inside me. Fuck me, and fuck me hard, please.” you gasped, grinding harder against him, desperately trying to ease the ache.

“Good girl.” he murmured, carrying you to your room and gently laying you on the bed. His eyes trailed over your body as he removed your pants, landing on your wet core, dripping and aching, begging to be fucked. His thick fingers slid against your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you as your hands gripped the soft sheets.

Can someone’s touch really do this? You’d never felt like this with anyone else, not even with Lucas.

Collecting your slick on his fingers, he brought them to his mouth, savoring it with a satisfied “Mmm.”

“Turn around for me, pretty girl.” he commanded softly but firmly. You obeyed, lying on your belly, ass up, giving him a full view of your juicy cheeks. He smacked your ass, eliciting a sharp yelp from you, and his hands found yours. “Up.” he instructed.

Spreading your legs for him, your back pressed against his chest, your hands pinned behind you by his large ones as his hard length lined up perfectly against your wet core. He gave you a few teasing rubs before slowly sliding in, stretching you deliciously as you adjusted to his girthy length.

Your head rested back on his shoulder as his pace quickened, his lips latching onto your neck again, kissing and biting, leaving purple bruises wherever they made contact with your delicate skin.

The sensation of his hard length filling you over and over again sent waves of pleasure through your body. Each thrust brought you closer to that painful but sweet release, one that you both have been craving for a while as his groans mixed with your soft whimpers. His fingers found your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with his movements, pushing you further to the edge.

Your body trembled, dancing on the brink of euphoria. “Jongho… I’m so close.” you gasped, breathless, your body clenching around him.

“Fuck, baby.” he breathed out, his voice strained with pleasure.

But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, a sharp, familiar ringtone pierced the air, causing both of you to freeze.

Lucas.

His name flashed on the screen of your phone, lying near your feet. The blood drained from your face, terror flooding through you as the realization of what situation you are in dawned upon you. You were too scared to pick it up.

Jongho's chest rose and fell heavily against your back, his hand still on your clit, rubbing softly, teasingly.

"Pick it up, baby. What are you waiting for?" his voice taunted you, breath hot against your ear.He knew exactly what would happen if Lucas found out what the two of you were doing, it would mean death.

Trembling, you picked up the phone. "Hello, Lucas.” you answered, only to be pulled back into the delicious sensation as Jongho’s movements resumed, his dick working its magic as he continued thrusting into you, slow and torturous.

"Y/n! Where the hell are you?" Lucas barked from the other side. His tone was sharp and angry? But why? And how ?

Jongho’s pace quickened, matching the rhythm he had set earlier, each deep thrust making your toes curl, a moan dangerously close to slipping past your lips. "At home. Why? Where else would I be at this hour, Lucas?" You fought your hardest not to moan.

"Are you alone? Why do you sound so… awake?" Lucas questioned, suspicion lacing his words.

Jongho chose that very moment to thrust into you harder, making it almost impossible to keep your composure.

Because your brother is fucking the life out of me? So just hang the fuck up already.

"Because it's raining here." you managed to say. "There might be a storm. You know I’m afraid of lightning and thunder, so I couldn’t sleep." Almost on cue, thunder rumbled in the background, validating your excuse. Jongho’s deep thrust synced perfectly with the sound, sending shockwaves through your body.

"Oh yeah, I remember, sweetheart. What was Demi blabbering about—never mind. Sleep tight. I’ll see you when I’m back." And with that, he hung up.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Demi, you fucking bitch.

As soon as Lucas hung up, Jongho wasted no time. His thrusts resumed with intensity, each one driving you closer to the edge.

"Jongho... I can’t hold…am close, baby." you whimpered, your body trembling, aching for a release after that intesne call.

His deep voice urged you."Cum for me honey" as fingers find your clit again, rubbing in sync with his movements. “You’re soing soo good, sweet girl.”

Your body couldn't hold back any longer. A wave of euphoria crashed over you, and you cried out his name, clenching tightly around him. Jongho groaned, thrusting deeper as he chased his own high. His arms wrapped tightly around you, and with a final groan, he pulled out, spilling all over your back. Hot!

Why does he have to look so hot doing that?

The two of you collapsed together, breathless, as the rain poured outside.

Minutes passed as you both recovered. Pulling you closer, he cupped your cheeks, staring into your eyes as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. “I-I love—” he hesitated.

“I love you,” you smiled, finishing his sentence and stealing a small peck on his lips.

Why did you confess? Who confesses after one night together?

But somehow, it felt safe. He felt safe. His entire presence had that protective blanket you had craved for a while now.

Maybe he is the right one?

“I love you 3000,” he replied, smiling and blushing hard. Cringing at what he said, but you could feel the sincerity in his voice, his words somehow perfectly aligning with your 3000th day.

Another historical moment! also more freedom, maybe.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[darling-answers]

It’s for your fluff month

But maybe a nervous partner on their first mission with Cassidy? :))

Day 2

First Mission

“ Cole Cassidy and — you both will be taking over the mission of stacking out a Talon Shipping facility. We have gotten some news that there would be major product there for Talon use. From our insource tonight the products if talon gets there hand on it there new weapons there manufacturing will become even more powerful. We need to stop them from getting it and stop the production of more dangerous weapons.”

Sojourn explains what the mission was, all Overwatch agents stood around a table that showed a big explained digital picture of the manufactured weapon and the parts the product needs to be fully complete, another side of the map showed the full shipping container layout. Details on how to get inside had been littered all over the screen as sojourn made sure to point at the valid checkpoints.

Standing there was awakes everyone looked so excited for the mission so happy to be there and worked for there dream job of being in Overwatch. There situation and your situation was on polar opposite while most joined to help the community and also to prove Overwatch could still be in it glory days helping people as much as possible the circumstances was different.

Living in a small town the Omnic crisis hit hard for you and your family. Food market prices went up with the house, bills were higher than ever and barely living could be expected. It was to much for your family so for the sake of your family you had joined Overwatch a small international group to help defeat the bull sectors but also the on growing assault of talon. Because just living isn’t enough to survive you had to you myst fight for your family.

When sojourn looked at you for confirmation on wanting to do the mission it was not just an ask it was more of a request from her, do the mission to help out more people. Sojourn had put you with one of her most trusted and best agents. With the connection of her friendship with The old Gabriel Reyes she had buried a lot on the cowboy and his ideals. When she saw you nodded your head she gave a relief sigh satisfied that you had agreed to do the mission.

After each mission from small missions to big missions each and everyone had there own part that they had expected to get completed wanting a successful but also understanding if the mission didn’t come out well was assign you were left in the mission brief room, staring at what you were asked to do. Your brain nagged on you.

‘why did you even accept this mission, what were you even doing in Overwatch, there were many things that could go wrong many people who could be such more better.’

You let out a small huff rolling your eyes as someone who hadn’t walked out and watched you silently gave a slight cough. He had a cigarette in the left side of his mouth taking a few deep breath before blowing out the smoke from his lip. He gently push the bud into an ash tray as he slowly walked over to you. Bowing his hat he gave you a cowboy curtsy.

“ You must be the new Agent, My name is Cole, you can just call me Cassidy whatever fits your role.”

How could you not know the infamous cowboy not only was he a severe problem and vigilante back when he formed a deadlock gang with one of the most wanted criminal in the west. But he was also in Blackwatch a side group of Overwatch that worked in secret that Did stuff that Overwatch couldn’t do publicly. It played by it own rules. He seemed to have a genuine kindness unlike how he was portrayed among Media and his dark persona. 

He grins as he saw you reach your hand out for a shake. Grabbing your hand in a firm grip he shook it, he felt the small trembles in your arm as his head tilt as he looks at the mission brief.

“ don’t worry, these missions are more simple even if they seem more severe, it important but easy so don’t worry.”

He gave another small cheeky smiled as his eyebrow raised a little. He had notice the anxious expression you had even if you tried to hide it, your body language proved his point in every other way, his hat came over his forehead as he followed your body language. Placing a hand on the hilt of his belt he tried to sooth the worries.

“ if your that worry about it sugar, stay by my side and i will make sure not a finger is touch on you’re head take your time. I have heard from Vivian your skills are almost unmatched so let me see those to use when your on the battlefield. While I protect you from any actual harm”

He gave a firm pat on your shoulders warm hands instantly engulfing your shoulder as he soothed all your worries. His smile was that of a morning sunshine. A promise was one he knew he couldn’t break not after the anxious smile you had shown. He intended to keep that small promise he had made to you.

“ Thanks.. I appreciate your comfort and I will try to do my best.”

He nodded at the more postive aspects of your words. What was there to worry about when you had such a good looking cowboy in your team and one that was so kind to remind you why you were decided to join Overwatch and how you contribute to the team. Your skill was something to look forward to, he was excited to see your skills on the battlefield.

How could anything go wrong?

As you were sent off to bed to get a goodnight rest for the mission tomorrow thoughts scrambled in your brain, of not only failing among the mission but not being good enough or making high expectations for Overwatch. Your heart tighten and the hours rolled by either faster or slower, it was all such a blur.

Stumbling among the aircraft. The aircraft was one used by many agents but this time as most agents were going on this mission it left you and Cassidy in your assigned spots. Pictures on eachother seats of either family and friends you made along the way. setting your stuff down on the seat next to you, it almost seemed to be you caught up in a daze on why you even accepted this mission again. You didn’t know what to say or do or how to act. How could you truly get through nightmare that you put yourself in.

But when the cowboy who sits across from you flashes you an infamous grin and gives you a look of such confidence of your ability.

A relax expression came upon your face. Your brain instantly flooded with words of affirmation.

‘You got this, you have worked to hard to quit now, there nothing to stop you so push yourself forward.’

[thegildedbee]

Family/Laugh: May 12 & 13 Prompts from @calaisreno

The exterior nowheres that Sherlock inhabits can be charted by his footfalls as he wends his way through the precincts of temporary cities. The silent drift of assimilating interior nowheres, however, seems to leave no traces, even as he feels unseen changes taking hold. His suspension in the January North of a darkness that persists until late morning, and then quickly returns in the afternoon, intensifies his perception that he lives in a shadow-world, a lone dark figure extracted from the frozen rain that curtains his days. 

The patterns he seeks to capture as he hunts amidst the ones and zeros of cyberspace are likewise intangible – extended solitary vigils as his fingers command the keyboard to winnow through the tangle of codes – as well as tangible, of meetings with the technological mix of people here at Tallinn’s crossroads: software developers seeking the leading edge at corporate labs, security experts at NATO’s Cyber Defence Centre of Excellence, the underground hackers who traverse the landscape of the digital realm’s hollow earth. Both the intangible and the tangible are intense efforts to spy glimpses of Moriarty’s covert presence in the spaces between the ones and zeros, summoning up the networks and nodes of the intersecting spheres of finance, and energy, and communications, as made manifest in trafficking, and counterfeiting, and hijacking, across the physical and human worlds.

He’s accumulated an abundance of leads, some he’s near-certain he understands, and others he’s yet to decipher – but it’s enough to reveal to him his next move on the chessboard: St. Petersburg. He’ll take the train from Tallinn, without needing to step out for border control, which is handled en route. He’ll be leaving Estonia under a new identity; he hopes to keep Lukas Sigerson in his back pocket for later uses, but it’s time to make his presence difficult to trace: it's time to step away from Mycroft’s grid. He’s left seemingly inadvertent clues to allow Mycrofts’s people to (think that they’re) following him, along a pathway that connects the nefarious doings of Mexican cartels involved in establishing meth labs in Nigeria for the Asian market. Their pursuit of him will be turned to good account in dismantling that nexus, even when they realize he is elsewhere. 

St. Petersburg is a hive of hacking activity, the physical site of the infamous Russian Business Network, which catered to the needs of cyber criminals. It’s not surprising that it is the city where Vladimir Putin lived, received his education, and joined the KGB, as an agent in its foreign intelligence wing, before tunneling his way to Moscow. Sherlock doesn’t believe that there are many degrees of separation between Moriarty and the dark internet of Putin’s hellscape. 

He arrives at the end of Tallinn’s usefulness on a Friday evening. As he packs up his kit in the office space he’s made homebase through a courtesy loan in deference to his Norwegian technology credentials, some of the younger workers have swept him up into their murmurating flock as they celebrate the coming weekend in search of alcohol, bar food, and music. In London, Sherlock would have begged off such a request, were anyone intrepid enough to suggest it, and he would have been unperturbed at whatever anyone might think. But he’s not Sherlock, he’s Lukas, at least for a short while longer, and although his persona is reserved, businesslike and uninclined to make small talk, Lukas possesses an average quantity of affability; and remaining unobtrusive is best accomplished by being amidst the motions of others, rather than making himself conspicuous by setting himself off from the norms of sociality. 

He did not, however, anticipate the karaoke session, which is putting a severe strain on the bonhomie he is channeling to Lukas, as it’s clear that he’s going to need to accede to accepting a turn in the spotlight, lest he put a damper on the good spirits of his companions. He nevertheless protests with a smile, holding out his hands, but any input he might have been able to exert on the decision-making disappears, when two of his impromptu friends conspire to tug him toward the microphone, explaining that all three of them will venture forth together, with a song they insist is dead simple to sing, and that the well-lubricated crowd will be delighted to join in with them in belting out the familiar refrain. Which is how he finds himself being carried along within a punchy, melodic stream that turns out to be excruciating emotionally, as the verses unfurl. He listlessly despairs, marooned, a hollowed-out laugh echoing inside his head in response.

. . . When I'm lonely, well, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you And when I'm dreamin', well, I know I'm gonna dream I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you. When I go out (when I go out), well, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you And when I come home (when I come home), I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home with you I'm gonna be the man who's comin' home with you . . .

He’s exasperated at the universe conspiring to keep him unsettled, to deny him the solace of alone protecting him. He fears that he is fated to have any social contact whatsoever somehow conjure home and reminders of John. The song ends to raucous cheers, and the enthusiasm surges on, and he’s being importuned to name a new song of his own choice before being allowed to return to the table. He looks at the smiling faces helplessly, immobilized by the churning cacophony playing hide-and-seek inside his guts, incapable of conjuring up the simplest of answers. Undeterred, they jolly him along, prompting him to think of a film he’s recently seen, or club he’s been to, or a favorite television show. At the latter suggestion, his mind does slightly slip free, and there is John again, teasing Sherlock into watching another of his favorite shows, Sherlock pretending to be annoyed at being consigned to such a fate. He turns to the young people, and raises his voice to speak into the nearest person’s ear to be heard over the noisy crowd, and says with a question in his voice, Peaky Blinders? He seems to have pleased them, as they fiddle around to pull the selection, bouncing in high spirits and punching their fists into the air, as the music starts, a bell ringing out, and the slithering deep tones speaking of the edge of town, of secrets in the border fires, of a gathering storm -- and a tall handsome man, in a dusty black coat, with a red right hand. 

As Sherlock listens to the song unspool, his mind wanders back to the show's themes, reminding him of a line of thought he’d been considering the last few days – that to focus singularly on Moriarty and faceless confederates is not quite the right way to conceptualize the dead man's web: that there must have also been family members in leading positions, positions of trust. One of the deep divides between himself and Mycroft originated in Sherlock’s refusal in uni to agree to work for SIS. Mycroft knew that he would never be able to trust completely any of the professionals who worked for him – after all they are spies working for money. To be sure, he wanted Sherlock to sign on to be able to appropriate his intelligence, but even more compelling was the fact that never having to question the loyalty of a brother would have made him an asset par excellence. Mycroft considers getting what he wants to be an inviolable law of the universe, and Sherlock doesn't think his brother will ever be able to truly forgive him for the rejection . . . especially given Sherlock's devotion to the inferior endeavors of dedicating himself to a life of metropolitan crime-solving. Family; family is what matters. A Moriarty is gone; but there are other Moriarties yet to be unearthed. ........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper @helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra @solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912 @dapetty

.............................................................................

[akwolfgrl]

LFT part 34

What is that guy's issue?” Zoro put his sword away as he walked towards the barrel. Zoro had told him a few times he wasn't interested in selling him his sword. Zoro began digging through the barrels searching for something decent.

“You must lose a lot of swords if you think you have to carry three of them around. Unless of course you're copying that infamous Pirate Hunter,” Zoro ignored Tashigi as she came up behind him.

“Yah, pirate hunter,” Zoro muttered to himself.

“He's made quite the name for himself, Roronoa some call him a demon. He is known throughout the East Blue for his sword skills, but he's clearly not a good person to have earned the moniker of demon. A bounty hunter is not someone who has any honor, and swordsmen without any honor shouldn't be allowed to be called swordsmen. Someone who uses their swords just as a way to make money. It's too bad for real swordsmen being compared to him, it's all backwards. Pirates and bounty hunters calling themselves swordmasters makes no sense to me. They even have most of the world's legendary swords as well, it's such a tragedy,” Tashigi continued to talk as he looked for swords.

“Oh don't know,” Zoro chuckled. “It's the kinda thing that you have to look at on a case by case basis,” Axe hand Morgan may not have been a swordsman but he was a Marine. A Marine who allowed his men and his son to terrorize the village they were at. A little girl had almost been torn to shreds by a vicious animal, and when he killed it he had been tied up, left without food or water. The world wasn't black and white, it was made up of shades of gray. “You never know what people are capable of or what they've been through.”

“I don't give a damn, I'd be more than happy to welcome criminals as long as they have money. I remember when my shop used to be filled with people shopping before trying their hand in the GrandLine, but ever since that monster you call a Captain was put in charge I hardly ever get any customers,” The man complained, it would explain why he was asleep when Zoro arrived.

“Captain Smoker isn't a monster, he's done great work cleaning up these streets,“ Tashigi retorted.

“He's a damn devil fruit user! That is more than enough reason to call him a monster!” The man yelled back.

“This is my Shigure. I'm going to work as hard as I can to perfect my skills and one day I'll take back every single last one of the legendary swords, because the filthy hands that hold them do not deserve them! I am including the War Lords of the Sea! They are nothing more than a pirate with a fancy title! That includes Dracule Mihawk! Yes. The twenty one top O-Wazamono, the twenty one O-Wazamonos, as well as the Ryo-Wazamonos, I'll find them all! I'll keep them safe!”

“What about my sword? Do you want to take my sword from me? Wado Ichimonji,” Zoro asked, turning to look at her as unsheathe his sword, just because she looked like Kuina didn't mean she could have her sword.

“Oh um I'm not trying to get them back for my sake, I just don't want criminals to have them,” Zoro turned back to the barrel of swords when one caught his eye, he warped his hand around its handle, this sword was cursed. He took it out of the barrel, its red and gold sheath in good condition for being so cheap. “Oh I think that's, just a sec let me check my book,” Tashgi flipped through the pages of the small book she had on her. “Ah, just as I thought! That blade would be Kitetsu! Kitetsu the third! Its predecessor is an O-Wazamono and the first Kitetsu is a top O-Wazamono,” Zoro took the blade out of the sheath looking at the moderately curved katana with a white edge and a blue hamon that looked like flames. “Hey are you really only selling it for 50,000?” Tashigi asked. Zoro would happily only pay that much.

“Y-yeah?” The man's voice sounded shaky and unsure.

“That's unbelievable! It's an authentic Wazamono.” Zoro stared at his reflection in the sword. “Wow you must buy that sword!” Zoro had every intention of doing so. “It's worth at least a million berries or more,” Zoro was not going to tell Nami how his swords were worth. He didn't trust her not to sell them behind his back. “You can't pass it up, it's so valuable,”

“Dammit! I can't sell it!”

“I didn't think so, I knew it must have been a mistake, it is a legendary sword after all ”

“It's not what you think!” The man cried out as Zoro tightened his grip on the sword and swung it down, now facing towards Tashigi.

“The swords cursed.” Zoro spoke, a cursed blade had not what he had been expecting to find but still he had.

“Huh? How the hell do you know that?”

“Just…do,” Zoro didn't know how he knew, but he could feel it, feel with every part of him that this sword would love nothing more than to bathe in blood, be it his or his enemies it didn't matter. He would enjoy taming it.

[lastlycoris]

So my boss in the prison medical wing is Dr. Nora Fries (pronounced freeze). She's an MD-Ph.D, both a military doctor and a biomedical engineer specializing in prosthetics. It's said that all warsuits that the rich people keep for "personal protection" are derivatives from her initial work. Her criminal moniker is Dr. Fries, which kinda just shows how infamous she is - you know - that they just outright use her name.

As for why she's here, that goes back two decades ago according to personnel here. Mostly to warn me to not mention the former company GothCorp she and her husband (important later) worked at. Because this lady has two obsessions: to restore her husband from a cryogenic freeze without killing him and getting revenge on the company that caused it.

I don't really know about their personal lives. Just two strange people meeting in college and fell in love. Eventually their paths had it so they ended up working in the same company.

Her husband was a specialist in cryogenics, Ph.Ds in physics, engineering and chemistry. And the hopes were to make a chemical gel that could easily preserve pharmaceuticals and food at the end of a cold chain.

And then an accident occurred when the company decided to scuttle the project for insurance purposes and blame Mr. Fries. Of course, this information came out much later.

In any case, they still call those series of small inhabitable inter-connected islands, where the Factory was housed, the Ice Rink. Because every so often, a vat of what's being called Friesium would rupture and instantly send everything in the area to below liquid nitrogen temperatures, which is not survivable.

Logs showed that one of the researchers noticed something was wrong with the chemical vats and sounded the alarm for evacuation to get everyone else out. The six that remained, including Dr. Fries's husband, were required to prevent the entire factory from freezing everyone instantly.

People do not survive getting frozen solid without help - if the initial freeze doesn't kill them, the defrosting will. However, logs apparently showed that Fries's husband had injected everyone with an experimental cryoprotectant fifteen minutes prior to the cryoexplosion - preventing the nastier effects like water expanding to ice to rupture cells - and a single outgoing phone call to his wife.

The rest is history. Dr. Fries makes the first prototype warsuit in three days, a suit impervious to cold and sudden pressure changes from extreme temp drops, and marches in to retrieve the lab members. Ferris Boyle, the president, tries to pull the plug stating it's futile and expensive to continue keeping the six on ice, and Dr. Fries offers the cryosuit design to make payment. He accepts and then goes back on their deal stating it never happened - and then claims it was an attempt at a bribe to prevent him from revealing that it was her husband and lab team that sabotaged the factory.

And I guess that was the moment where she descended into supervillainry.

It was quiet for a week as the Board argued about the PR nightmare pulling the plug would do, even if they claimed these were the ones that caused it.

Then someone armed to the teeth in a shiny warsuit decided to break into GothCorp with a bunch of goons to retrieve the pods - who were funded by the money she got for selling a simplified warsuit design to different criminal factions and companies . And then she declared war on GothCorp.

Now this is twenty years ago before this era of superheroes and supervillains. That warsuit was the pinnacle of high tech at its time, and it singlehandedly brought the military to the city after a month. Why they didn't come sooner was because she was very selective with the damage. Only to GothCorp assets and zero casualties beyond the broken bones people dumb enough to physically get in a walking tank's way.

She singlehandedly brought the company to near bankruptcy. And the military only helped because the company took up a military contact on a very big deficit. Otherwise, they would've just treated it as a civil matter for the police to deal with. After all, no dead people, damage only to private property, and it wouldn't look nice if the military got their asses handed over to them too.

It wasn't even the military that got her in the end. It was some fresh detective named Gordon, now Commisioner, who figured out where she's hiding because running cryogenic preservation for six people took a stable large supply of electricity.

A deal was made between the two. Nora voluntarily surrendered after five days. Gordon discovered the system logs from the factory, showing the company's sabotage of its own factory. Wayne Industries makes a generous offer to preserving and eventually finding a cure for the frozen researchers.

And she's been researching cryogenics in prison every day ever since. The only prisoner. allowed her own laptop and allowed outside to visit her husband every month as part of the unusual deal made with the police.

Except now that Wayne Industries took a severe blow after their Tower collapsed and President kidnapped and probably dead, the frozen six apparently moved to some no-name company, and the decaying law and order of our city, it seems she's taking matters into her own hands because it looks like no one can keep the people she wants to protect safe. At least that's what it seems like.

Makes me wonder, if their places were switched, whether her husband would show the same single-minded devotion to her.

I certainly hope so.

[mafiaamongstus]

World History Part 1 (Pre-Imposters)

The year is sometime in the 3010s. Space travel has been around for about 50 years or so. Such to the point that when the infamous criminal “Henry Stickmin” founds a Space Resort / Casino, really the only surprise is how he was able to get away with it. 

Research Stations have been planted on the planets of Jupiter, Pluto, and the newly discovered Albion. Explorers are discovering more and more planets, and while most of them are inhospitable to humans, that’s easily remedied thanks to technology.

At first, there seem to be no signs of alien life (sentient, plant, or otherwise), and the human notion that a planet has to be M-Class to host life prevails, and they assume that there simply isn’t any planet capable of hosting life. 

And then they discover Mira. There, they discover plants and creatures that seem to share some semblance of life. They are not fully sentient, but they seem to display emotions, needs, and wants. These discoveries include the Bushplant, the Headcrab and Headslug, and the Squig. 

Instantly, humanity begins to develop a research center on Mira. They bring plants and animals from earth, and test how they interact with the Mirian animals. 

A young soldier named Olo is stationed at the research center, to provide any needed security, though really he ends up being a glorified babysitter for some of the animals since the scientists tend not to have issues with one another, and there’s hardly anyone else out there, is there?

And then suddenly, there was.

It took them several days to realize that something was wrong. At first it was assumed that one of the scientists was merely slacking off. Prioritizing their research instead of the daily tasks that kept the research station running.

And then the smell started. And oh, it was a horrid smell. Rot and mold and death. 

It was one of the dogs that found the bodies. The very first Mira-born litter of puppies. They didn’t know if it was the air, the food they gave the mother, or, as later theories would wonder, if something else had replaced the father. But the litter had been born blue and green and purple, each of them with a large, singular eye. 

The blue dog, the one that Olo had taken rather a liking to, had been the one to discover the body of Dr. Taio. 

Now, normally, discovering a body on a research base- especially a body that had a clear stab wound piercing it from front to back, comes with certain…procedures. However, these procedures must be ignored when the deceased is currently also seated in the cafeteria drinking Don Dew. 

Needless to say, the discovery of aliens that could completely mimic and replace a person was…not well received by the Government. 

The studies of Mira changed from simple studies for curiosity's sake, to researching ways to remove these Imposter aliens. 

One of their studies developed a parasitic mushroom that was dubbed “Fungle”. The plan was to release the mushroom on the Imposter’s home planet, once they found it. However, before they could do so, Mira HQ was attacked, and the fungle was released in an emergency escape pod, and lost to space.

Unknown to the scientists, soldiers, or even the aliens, that pod drifted back to space, and found its way to an undiscovered island in the middle of the ocean. 

[warriors-of-legend]

Amos Shade-River; The First Trek

Design.

Ref.

Amos is a nationally recognized and acclaimed Bounty Hunter, while simultaneously being the eldest son of the Shade family. As a Magean, his trick is the ability to turn invisible, which is part of the reason that he's so good at his job.

Though initially trained as an Undertaker and Assassin by his father, he found that those more 'social' jobs didn't suit his overly-friendly personality. Realizing this, Amos pivoted away from Assassin and Undertaker and turned his attention to becoming a bounty hunter. Self-employed, Bounty Hunters look at wanted criminals and set out to find them, no matter how far that journey might take them. Sometimes the criminals are just under his nose, and other times they've fled to a neighboring city or even country.

No matter where they go... Amos will find them, and he isn't hesitant on killing them himself.

Amos wields two enchanted weapons, a sword and a dagger. I personally imagine his sword as a rapier, though any sword will do. He wields his sword using a standard levitation magic, though he will occasionally wield it in the traditional way. His dagger, however, is a Poignard. (A straight, double edged dagger) His sword is given the standard enchantment, being able to be willed in and out of existence as Amos wishes, and it is directly in tune with his body, mind, and magic.

His dagger also has the standard enchantment, though it also has an additional one. This enchantment, called Oath of The Setting Sun, can only be activated by a specific phrase. Setting Sun is an enchantment made specifically for Amos and his profession (Likely attained through his fathers numerous connections.) Setting Sun is a painless instant kill enchantment, written to feel like sleeping while sunbathing. So long as the phrase is said, and the dagger is stabbed through ones heart, they will die painlessly, and their corpse will be healed with no signs of any struggle they went through. If Setting Sun is not properly activated, the dagger acts as normal, inflicting wounds and damage as one would expect. His dagger is wielded the traditional way, in ones grip.

This was one of the few events of Amos' life that he can recall his mother attending. His send-off was extravagant, with food catered from the royal chefs, and anyone who his family was in contact with was in attendance. The party wasn't for him though, that much he knew. It was for his fathers ego. As a show of power and skill, Aimon was telling everyone he knew that his son was doing something for himself, and that there was now another dangerous threat in the family.

His half-siblings all sat together, on the other side of the border of the North Wing, else they'd face the wrath of their father. Their mothers sat near each other, all the she-cats were stunning, with luscious pelts and shimmering eyes, dripping with gems and jewelry alike. In comparison, Amos' own mother was separate from everyone, simply showing up to support her son and wish him the best. She wore no jewelry, was not draped in expensive silks and cottons the way the other mollies were. He sees why she refused to attend events like this, as nobody paid her any mind at all, not even to acknowledge her son. She wore her veil, even now.

As the sun began setting, Amos knew it was time. As his father clinked a glass using his mothers weak display of magic, everyone fell silent, preparing for Amos' send off.

"My son, Amos Shade, is about to engage in his first hunt! One that will surely go down in history, he is searching for the infamous arsonist Magean, who calls himself Raging Fire." Aimon paused, allowing everyone to gasp and murmur to one another before proceeding,

"When he succeeds in finding Raging Fire, Amos is to return with his head, to keep his skull as a trophy for the family." Aimon said before turning to face his son with a smug look.

Though Amos' blood ran cold and his fur wanted to stand up straight on his back, he forced his face to remain placid. Killing was not the job of a Bounty Hunter. And yet... if he didn't do it, there was no way he'd be allowed to return home. It was decided for him.

Waving goodbye to everyone at the event, he knew that all of their lives would continue without him. The party would go on, and focus would shift away from Amos and back to his father, just as it always did. His mother... Demona. She was the only one who looked even remotely sad during his departure, Amos could see that even through her veil. If nothing else, Amos would do this for her.

It was a long trip, with every lead he either found, read, or heard leading him to the small mountain town of Highgrad. Amos had never been this far from home, but if he could so much as even set eyes on Raging Fire, everything would get so much easier.

"He goes by Raging Fire. Dark brown and orange, from what I've heard. Had anyone like that pass through recently?"

"Craves fame and recognition, I reckon. Green-yellow eyes? Sets lots of shit on fire?"

"He passed through this morning, that much I know, and you'd do well to tell me which direction he was headed."

Sitting at the outdoor seating of a nearby restaurant, Amos was waiting for his next informant to appear. Someone who had a friend catch him a few towns ago, telling Amos to meet this other cat here for more information about Raging fire. Growing impatient, Amos dropped money on the table to pay for his bill before turning to move on to the next town. Catching a glint of movement out of the corner of his eye, Amos begged himself to stay calm. Turning around, he spotted two cats in a spat. One business owner, the other a pissed off customer.

Scanning the two cats quickly, Amos noticed something.

Brown and orange fur. Yellow-green eyes. Smaller than expected for a male. Insecure, craving fame and recognition, taking everything as a threat to his place in the world.

Bingo. Raging Fire.

Turning himself invisible, Amos stalked closer to the pair of arguing cats. From this closer point, he could see sparks forming at the paws of the smaller cat, the customer. This could be bad. Manifesting his sword into existence, Amos found himself creeping even closer to Raging Fire and the other cat, who could very easily become Raging Fire's next victim if Amos didn't play his cards right.

Making himself visible, Amos spoke, "Raging Fire, you are under arrest under order by the King of Inva. Resistance is futile, and running will prove fruitless. You'd do best to come with me."

Raging Fire whipped around and glared at Amos, clearly sizing up the newcomer. Locking eyes with the shopkeeper, Amos gestured for him to evacuate himself as well as the others of Highgrad right now with his tail. Needing to keep Raging Fires attention, Amos continued,

"You won't be able to win against me in a battle, I know that. You're half of what I am, despite being double my age." Amos sneered, turning the ego to eleven. Watching as Raging Fire's ear twitched, Amos saw many cats of Highgrad leaving the main plaza and town.

Trusting that everyone who could get away was thoroughly out of harms way, Amos gripped his sword and charged at Raging Fire, who was hissing at him angrily.

Landing the first slash was easy, everything else was the hard part from now on out.

Amos watched as the arsonist created sparks from nothing, easily enough that it was clear this cat had been doing this for his whole life. Leaping back as the fire roared to life, Amos had to take care to not lose track of the tomcat in all the smoke and fire.

"Fire bends to my whim and will, you will be charred to nothing before getting the chance to touch me again!" Raging Fire sneered, teeth bared at Amos.

Willing himself invisible again, Amos watched and Raging Fire's ears dropped, eyes widening as Amos disappeared from view. Leaping across the bands of fire, he weaved through the heat and smoke before slamming his shoulder into the other toms body, sending them both into the wall of a nearby building. Amos was up before Raging Fire was, having had tons of practice being thrown into walls and building alike. Shaking his head, Amos pulled his sword into existence again, holding the long blade with his magic over Raging Fires neck.

Before he could even process what was happening, Amos felt a searing heat hit his face, followed by the needle-like pain of claws in his eye. Flailing out blindly, Amos' blade made contact with something, and Amos pushed in with more force.

Slowly blinking away the blood from his eyes, Amos realized he had managed to get Raging Fire in the neck. Not deep, not quite dead yet... but soon.

Feeling the heat of flames against his skin, Amos stumbled towards Raging Fire. Allowing his sword to dissipate, Amos slid down the wall to be sitting next to the heaving criminal.

"...What is your real name? We all know you weren't born as Raging Fire. Who were you." Amos demanded, looking down at the singed cat, who now seemed confused on top of already bleeding out.

Watching as blood trickled down his mouth, and bubbled through the gash in his neck, Amos found himself wondering if Raging Fire could even answer his question.

Waiting in silence for a few minutes, watching as the enemy's breathing became shallower and shallower, until it was practically nonexistent. Hoisting himself up back onto his paws, shaking out his pelt, Amos winced, feeling many more wounds than he thought he had gotten.

Manifesting his dagger, Amos gripped the handle tightly, positioning the tip of the blade over Raging Fires heart, opening his mouth to speak before he was interrupted by the dying cat. "Esmond... my name was Esmond Cloud-Night, of the Cloud Family." He spoke, so quietly one had to strain to hear.

Smiling gently, Amos spoke, "Esmond. What a lovely name. I'll be sure it's written on your grave."

Raising his blade high above Esmond's chest, Amos inhaled before beginning,

"I relieve your heart of darkness.

"I absolve you of your sins.

"I heal you of your wounds.

"May you forgive my transgressions, and deliver me from evil.

"I shall have mercy on your tainted soul."

Feeling energy grow in the daggers blade, Amos sighed to himself before plunging the blade down on Esmond's heart.

It pierced through fur, flesh, and muscle easily, plunging into the beating heart of the cat before spewing forth blood momentarily before it mutated into water. Much like a cooling spring rain, Amos felt a weight somehow lifted off his shoulders.

In a brief moment of light, the area where the two had fought was restored back to the way it was before the two had met. Granted, the ground was still singed, Amos was still wounded, and Esmond was still dead, but the town was fine.

Manifesting his sword, and storing away his dagger, Amos quietly apologized to Esmond before removing his head from his body. Storing the head away, Amos began making his first trek home.

[moonlightdancer26]

AYO 💕 I'm bored, so here be me, offering 1: a funny rant for entertainment, and 2: an opinion for reflection (primarily mine).

Rant: did you know that jegulus shippers hc that Snape bullied Regulus with the other "bad" slytherins? And even acted predatory?? Legit read a scene where Mulciber manhandled Regulus and Snape watched cool and composed as you please and chided him for "playing with his food", then he himself slammed Regulus against a wall, got up in his face and threatened him. 😭🤡 Meanwhile Sneep and Regulus were probs CEO and COO respectively of the Sirius Black Haters Club. Even indifference from Regulus' part would be more likely than someone like him with an important and infamous family getting bullied by his own housemates, let alone by Snape who was at the bottom of the social ladder. Cringe. 😬

Opinion, a little more weighted. Though the blatant racism in Rowling's writing and characterizations of certain characters is undeniable, I've personally come across a few sjws who imo see it even where it's not. But there are instances where I'm not sure. Like with Shacklebolt, I always thought that the name was about him putting criminals in shackles, being good at his job, not an allusion to slavery. But I'm white and don't know whether black people actually consider it a good point, and just bc something is said or seen w/o bad intention doesn't mean there aren't implicit racist connotations going unnoticed. It's been going around in my head for a while. I summon your illustrious spouse @halfblood-princes-crown who iirc is poc (also realised I'm not following him which, great oversight), and anyone else who'd like to contribute their thoughts.

Hey sweetie! Sorry for the late-ish answer 😭 I completely forgot this was in my drafts

did you know that jegulus shippers hc that Snape bullied Regulus with the other "bad" slytherins? And even acted predatory??

YES OMG, I can’t even explain how stupid it is. Like these mfs really think some poor greasy bullied half-blood Slytherin could even bully a Black (who’s the opposite of everything I mentioned, aside from Slytherin) 💀 plus they both hated Sirius and would legit kill for the people they love so I have a petty headcanon that they’re besties and Sirius HATED it. You just know Reggie would be there when James and Sirius try to target Snape, and when James gets roasted and Sirius tries to join in Reggie would be like “and why are you talking? Don’t you *spills an embarrassing sibling-secret Sirius still does from when they were kids*?” and they’d stand there like 👬) 🤭 Tbh Marauder stans would go to such drastic lengths just so they make it seem like the Marauders bullying Snape was as mild as possible lmao.

But there are instances where I'm not sure. Like with Shacklebolt, I always thought that the name was about him putting criminals in shackles, being good at his job,

I totally understand that! It could be argued that that’s what it meant, because it really is a reasonable perspective……. that is, if Kingsley wasn’t part of the 4% POC characters in the series. Why would she give one of her only black characters a last name that’s meaning was an item used to chain slaves? It was apparently absolutely impossible for her to name any other white auror (basically every other auror) that was good at their job that name?

Along with all that, she’s named the only other Asian character (aside from the Patil twins) Cho Chang, both of which are last names. And it’s clear Rowling’s one of those authors who really put thought into their characters’ names, for example: Severus Snape (his first name directly translates to “stern” or “harsh”), Voldemort (mort means “death,” and when translating each section of the name in French, “vol de mort” it means “flight from death”), Remus Lupin (…wolf wolf 💀), Dolores Umbridge (Latin origins: “lady of sorrows or pain” (psychological or physical), Greek meaning: “deceitful,” Spanish meaning: “pain”), Fenrir Greyback (in Norse mythology: Fenrir is a gigantic and terrible monster, Greyback sounds similar to silverback, which is known as the dominant male in a band of gorillas), Fleur Delacour (“flower of the court”), and so on. I could literally talk about their name meanings for hours. My fave name meanings are Severus’s, Voldy’s (biggest flex is that I already knew this bc it’s French 🤭), Remus’s (😭 I already knew “Lupin”’s meaning because of the wolf (lupus) in mythology), Umbitch’s, and Fleur’s. Tbf Fleur’s full name is so stereotypically French but French names are almost as stunning as she is so I give it a pass.

Anyway, Rowling definitely isn’t one of those authors who give their characters a name they think “just fits them” and goes on with it, almost all of the characters’ names say something about their personalities to an extent. And she’s already a racist and proved it through making an Asian character’s full name consist of one Korean last name (Cho) and one Chinese last name (Chang). So the fact that she named one of her only black characters THAT name definitely must not have anyyy underlying intentions.

I may be a POC but I’m not black, so I’m sure my opinion won’t hold as much water as a black person’s. I’d be interested to hear what y’all think! @halfblood-princes-crown we’re summoning you babe, I wanna hear what you think.

And thanks for the ask btw, you can yell into my inbox whenever you feel like it ❤️

[neotriobrainrot-reborn]

After thinking it through, Imma call the “Little Witch Academia x Epithet Erased” au:

Dumb Little Sparks

Here’s the premise I got so far:

⭐️💫✨

Ursula used to take on an infamous vigilante identity as “Shiny Chariot” across Sweet Jazz City. Her influence as a beacon of hope was insurmountable.

To everyone, she was an unstoppable beam of light that made the darkness flee away faster than the light itself. Stories would spread of large-scale criminals and bounty hunters gloating one minute and seeing lights & birds the next (the light part being literal). People knew from just the glow of her epithet that they were safe. Cops knew that they'd be better off trying to lick their elbows than to even attempt to fight her. She was the hero!

Though that didn't last forever

She wanted to do good and to help make the city a place where everyone can not just survive, but live. But no matter how much she did, she had her limits. The pressure to bring a smile to everyone's faces grew. There was only so much 1 star could do, no matter how powerful. As more people needed her, keeping up with it all grew more and more difficult. Sleep became a luxury she couldn't afford, eating food & drinking water was time she could be spending saving people! Time she could spend putting out fires!

She didn't realize she herself was ablaze

One day, she just…vanished; like a star burned out. Ursula threw the cape in the bin, killing the hero known as “Shiny Chariot”. She wasn't strong enough to carry the world. Her shoulders broke, and she couldn't clean the mess.

No one knew what happened to to her, or why she quit. At first, people some people thought she had died. Most had shut this down, not knowing that in a way, Shiny Chariot had died. Most clung to the belief that she would come back. She had too!

…Right?

As months and months went by, the truth became apparent:

She was gone.

But her impact stayed behind.

Some had hated her and relished in joy over the fact that she was gone. She was nothing but a no-good criminal and stupid idealist who ran away from the law; a clown amongst civil-minded people! Anyone who thought like her were just another clown waiting to join a circus. Others were inspired by her! Shiny chariot was someone who wanted to spread joy and do some good in the world! She was far more competent than the Sweet Jazz Police force, and thousands of people would be dead or worse without her help. People had good reason for believing in her. They still do now! Even if she’s gone, she lit a fire for so many!

One teen carried that passion much further than others:

Akko!

Akko, one of the people who looked up to her as a child, and still looks up to her now, had set her heart out to fill the empty hole that Shiny Chariot filled. She would infect everyone around her with smiles

With a smile, Akko told herself that she would be a vigilante! One with the name of “Superstar!”. Even when she was as young as six, her adoration of Shiny Chariot had inspired her to train.

Akko wasn't good at hiding something she was passionate about, and that only made school tougher for her. Kids would call her an idealistic idiot, teachers would call her “too much”, others would call her annoying, and more. Her wanting to be like “Shiny Chariot” only fueled the complaints from teachers, and the laughter of other kids

She didn't have any sparkely powers. She couldn't light up the sky bright enough to wake up every kid on the block. She couldn't shoot beams from her eyes. She couldn't carry everyone out of a burning building. She wasn't faster than a speeding bullet. Shiny Chariot was a super-duper hero!

And Akko was a Powerless Mundie.

Akko knew this as well. She was , in a literal sense, powerless. But that did nothing to deter her. It just meant that Akko had to work with what she got! She could roll with the punches, and bring joy to so many others like Shiny Chariot had once did!

After all If she couldn't even do that, then what was she worth?

⭐️💫✨

That’s about all I got premise wise. I literally just thought about Little Witch Academia, went “Little Witch Academia Epithet Erased go brRRrrR—”, and here we are—

[kolkudarandtheorcgang]

(Trigger Warnings: Mentions of violence, torture, piercings, abuse, tattoos, self harm, s3x work)

Worldbuild Lore: Terror Tribe

The Terror Tribe, infamous for their cruelty and sadism, remain as one of if not the greatest nightmare of any living orc or pinkskin. Their bizarre taste for pain, domination and torment has made them perfect torturers during Sauron's reign of evil, and even mentions of their tribe's name were enough to send entire troops fleeing. The most distinct feature of this tribe, however, is the equal desire for masochism: terrors are never seen without painful piercings of metal harming their flesh and skin.

Commonly, these uruks and ologs are not necessarily the best soldiers, but the worst jailors, which is generaly useful for handling prisoners for information as well as punishing deserters or traitors. They pride themselves often in their vast knowledge of the psychology of sentient beings, the location of the most sensitive nerves in their bodies, and which tools are best for each body tissue. Destruction of the flesh is what they enjoy most, along with psychological warfare and terrorism.

When it comes to their mentality, one thing is certain: they adore suffering, whether it be their own or that of those around them. This is a tribe mainly composed by abusive orcs who seem to adore when their victims turn around to bite them back. The mentors take rather extreme methods of training with their apprentices, even demonstrating their skills on them with not a droplet of pity. Their minds are either hardened or broken. Still, if one dares to grow close enough to a terror orc, one might find a loving, needy worshipper underneath, eager to please for the sake of approval. There is often an appreciation for chains, metal and blades amongst terrors, as well as the urge to appear frightening; some even reach the point of seeking scarring of the body and tattoos to reach this goal. Self mutilation is also a rather crescent problem, as well as an unique melancholy. Many avoid this tribe as much as possible, and few dare joke about them.

Their burgh, known as Hrizgband, is the main prison of the Haven, "where the son cries and the mother does not see", as the people call it. Practically, it is a large maze of cells and torture rooms, surrounded by looming walls and barbed fences of cold steel. Chains hang from above where many are tied as penitence for disobedience or breaking of laws. In some corridors, rather shady places can be found, where pleasure dungeons are hidden, for the more eccentric fantasies of orcs brave enough to pay for such services. Guards are at each corner, either patrolling or delivering physical penalty, with occasional executions happening for the inhabitants of the Haven to watch. Many mentors from other tribes pay them to scare their pupils into developing more respect, though some also hire these orcs as bodyguards of their own businesses, a rather efficient tactic to avoid thieves. They also are hired often to deal with unruly beasts.

Despite the reputation, the Terror Tribe is associated with random acts of kindness, such as the act of donations of supplies to newcomers and food for the orphaned. Their more generous side is also present when supporting or protecting widowed orcs or broodmothers, though vatkeepers still despise them at times. Currently they are the Haven's law enforcers, defending the citizens from criminals and from hazards with a strong sense of justice, thus earning the admiration and acknowledgement of many.

Hierarchy:

-Overlord: Ur-Hakon The Monster (current chief of Black Blood Haven’s royal militia and the royal justice advisor)

-Warchiefs: Snaga The Slaver Killer, Nazû The Just, Khrosh The Helm Breaker

-Captains: approximately 50 of them, with Tark The Pink Orc as their main representative

Brand: The helm design of the Witch-king of Angmar, representing their awe for his fearsome visage and their desire to cause the same impression upon their foes

Societal Relationships:

-Machine Tribe: This tribe favors the terrors as one of their best clients, while being favored as the best blacksmiths by the Terror Tribe

-Warmonger Tribe: These two tribes often clash due to The Orc King having chosen the terrors as law enforcers over the warmongers; the terrors have fun bothering the warmongers over this fact

-Slaughter Tribe: Highly favored because they wisely offer discounted pricing for their goods to the law enforcers; terrors are often seen acting as guardians of butcherhouses of the slaughters as a free favor as well as punishers for those who cross the slaughters

-Feral Tribe: Beloved for their creativity in the designing and crafting of traps and hunt weaponry for the law enforcers, though the ferals disapprove of their training methods for beasts

-Outlaw Tribe: The terrors disdain this tribe over their disregard of the rules, and conflict is common, with outlaws tricking and outsmarting terror officers only to be arrested soon after at least once per day

-Mystic Tribe: Currently good relations, since both share the enjoyment of spooking others; mystics receive special treatment and discounted pricing at the pleasure dungeons of terrors

-Courtesan Tribe: A favorite tribe, for obvious reasons; the terrors usually defend this tribe’s members from rowdy clients as well as work alongside them, and terrors often take courtesans as mates and bloodbrothers

-Suture Tribe: Both beloved for their healing services and for their fearlessness and cruelty; the terrors are their main source of income for body modifications

-Marauder Tribe: The Terror Tribe’s best patrons, since many bankers and merchants hire them as their bodyguards; bards often seek them as source of inspiration for their horror tales

-Dark Tribe: Mainly respected and almost liked for their stealth and fear mongering; both tribes support each other in general

-Rover Tribe: Generally, they are stalked by the terrors to ensure that no forbidden goods or uninvited people are being smuggled into the Haven, which has caused conflict several times

-Other orcs (goblins, hobgoblins, etc): Although they are treated the same as anyone else, these orcs still are terrified of them, not trusting the terrors at all most of the time

-Pinkskins (humans, half-elves and half-orcs): Pretty much same as the other orc races, though the terrors sometimes hold fondness for half-elf or human people who work for the Courtesan Tribe; mating bonds between these humanoid races and terrors is quite a common occurrence in the Haven, though pinkskins outside of the Courtesan Tribe still fear them

Foreigners (The Free Folks as a whole): Most likely, they would all be frightened at terrors while these orcs scare them off the Haven's vicinity, especially the humans, elves and hobbits; though they would only act aggressively under orders or to protect themselves nowadays, the terrors know that the folks outside the Haven would not spare them for their actions in the past wars

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Stephanie Brown had no idea how her life got THIS ridiculous. No screw that. She had a very clear idea: as always it's a mix of Gotham being the worst and her dad existing in her general vicinity. A horrible terrible mix. 

Now normally Christmas isn't all that bad. Her useless father likes to spend the holidays plotting and robbing because according to him "no one is expecting crime" or some equally boring clichê (that is increasingly untrue as Batman is chronically incapable of taking a day off) . That means Christmas Eve in the Brown household is usually spent with her and her mom exchanging gifts with their small poor decorated three and watching Die Hard while eating chinese. Two years ago making sure her dad would spend the morning on Blackgate entered as another tradition. Overall great times. 

That was until her dad in all his stupidity decided to invite Riddler to move on with them. How he even met an A lister was beyond Stephanie compreheension (his only call to fame was the fact that even though Spoiler grew to actually fight serius rogues she still always took a time to fuck him over but most heros still dealt with D-Listers, so did it even meant anything?). 

Now the idea of having Nygma for Christmas was terrifying. But he seemed to have already got the memo and stayed the hell out of Stephanie's way unless her dad was forcing them into a family dinner or some other uncomfortable bullshit so she still had hope he would just fuck of for the hollydays and come back never as he never stayed when Arthur was in jail even though (for some unknow reason) her mother actually appeared to want him to. Her hope lasted until her dad loudly announced he would actually stay home for Christmas this year and they would do something special. Now Stephanie wasn't a fool she knew that this sudden change of heart was Arthur Brown trying to impress. She had no idea of why her dad wanted to impress Nygma so much but since Riddler moved he went out of his way to show to him his perfect little family (and to include the other villain in it as well). She was expecting Riddler to answer with the same fake enthusiasm he always did (the one that let very clear to anyone not called Arthur Brown that he really was only there out of necessity and the whole perfect family thing creeped him out, while she was never going to admit it that actually gave Steph some small modicum of respect for him, he really appeared to consider that as much a torture as she did) instead he looked almost relieved before saying:

"I'm so sorry, but I don't really celebrate Christmas." 

Now if Steph was the one controlling the conversation it would have ended there. No point in doing a Christmas anything, he would fuck off, without a Riddler to impress her dad would go fail at being a criminal and her and her mom would have their little tradition. Peace established, everything is fine. Unfortunately she did not control anything that happened in that family because Crystal Brown, her only ally, decided to be a fucking traitor. 

"I do think you should give it a chance, Edward, the food is going to be delicious and we can watch movies afterwards."

"Tempting as it may be." He may fool her parents but Steph could easily read in his tone that it wasn't tempting at all. "I'll have to pass. I have a small tradition of skipping the whole thing altogether and just watching horror movies with the girls and I already confirmed." 

"You can invite the girls as well." Arthur said. Oh hell no, Steph thought, the last time Riddler's infamous henchgirls had been in the same space as Cluemaster it had been a total disaster including her dad's failed attempts at what she could only guess was flirting. Unfortunately she couldn't point it out as it was Spoiler who had to witness that particular brand of torture. "We can even go to church"

The word church gave Riddler an involuntary shudder and Stephanie couldn't avoid the image of him burning the moment his feet touched any form of holy territory. A little bit relatable sadly. 

"I'm jewish, Arthur." Nygma said. Stephanie had no clue if he was lying or not. "Or at least my mother was." 

"Oh stop with the excuses!" Her dad exclaimed impatiently and slightly offended. Riddler looked a mix of uncomfortable and confused. "I know for a fact the old bitch was irish." 

What? 

Steph wanted to laugh but also to scream in exasperation. She had watched the tapes of her dad's old show, heard the stories, he used to be someone, to be smart and now here he was saying one of the dumbest shit she ever heard. Her mother seemed to be dealing with a similar train of thought as she switched between looking sadly at Arthur and apologetic at Nygma. The last seemed to be trying really hard to not snap at Arthur.

"One can be both." He settled for and even with his massive effort it still sounded very snappy. "There are jewish people in Ireland, Arthur."  

Her dad pathetically looked around for back up. Steph answered with a vegentfull smille. He looked back at Nygma being defeated (only her dad to lose at a game where he was the only player, Stephanie concluded bitterly).Then a sudden moment of brilliancy. Or better put he had an idea that would likely be very dumb.

"Weren't you an atheist,  Eddie?"

Riddler gave a deep breath. "Yes. I'm only ethnically jewish, but it's still part of the reason I don't do Christmas and so I found it relevant to point out." He stopped for a second and followed with an almost imperceptible irony "I'm sorry if it didn't sound genuine." 

Her dad looked defeated again and a little confused. But he soon was smiling as another thing crossed his mind."No need to apologize, Eddie boy!" Her dad gave a friendly loud slap into Riddler's back making the ginger yelp and look even more uncomfortable."No church going then, still I must insist for the rest of the celebration after all it's still a time to spend with family, I'm sure the girls will understand."

"I say that with the utmost respect, Arthur." He was sounding so sarcastic how on Earth weren't her parents getting that? At this point Stephanie was sure Nygma was going to kill her dad the moment he didn't need the Browns anymore and a huge part of her could only consider it a good riddance,  even better if it landed the Riddler on Arkham afterwards. "But the girls are my family." The and you isn't was not said but was heavily implied. To the point her dad seemed to get it for once.

"That 's funny. I always thought family helped each other." Since when? Because he sure as hell never helped her or her mother at anything ever. Au contraire he made their life so much worse. "But here you are needing a place and your girls are sure as heck not offering it." 

Great. If there was something that bothered Stephanie more than the fact her mother seemed to genuinely like the presence of one of the major members of Batman's Rogues gallery was that her dad seemed to go over  his way to get it, between the not even a little bit subtle threats, the weird fact he was in charge of Nygma's medication somehow and Stephanie increasing suspicion that he was maintaining Riddler's accounts froze somehow just so he stayed for longer Stephanie almost felt sorry for the guy. Her dad really seemed like a weird blackhole that keeps everyone tied to it. That's to say that Nygma straight up flinched at the comment and Stephanie knew her dad had won. Way to ruin Christmas for everyone. She didn't bother to hear the rest of the conversation. Instead she went to her room, decided that whatever the fuck was stopping Nygma from accessing his accounts she was fixing it before the two of them had to suffer through each other presence in another hellish Christmas Eve.